Chapter 54

I remember, when a lad, the so-called army-worms first swept across the fields. They went straight ahead, and moved like a mighty host with captains. They were little things, but when they were gone the fields looked as tho they had been swept by a fire. So a thousand little wrongs in the life can rob it of beauty as really as one great, blazing, public transgression.—A. H. C. Morse.

(1866)

I am afraid of little sins because they involve a great principle. You go into a bank with a check for $1,000, and in his hurry the clerk passes out $1,100, and you walk out of the bank with that sum. You agree with me, I suppose, that you do a dishonest thing—that you have stolen $100. Would it not be the same if your check called for $5, and he gave you $6 by mistake? You ride on a train to Boston, and by some oversight your ticket is not collected, and you ride back on that very same ticket. You agree with me that the thing is wrong. Is it not the same when you ride on a trolley car and elude the conductor, or slip past the gateman and enter the train? In either case the man is a thief.—A. H. C. Morse.

(1867)

LITTLE THINGS

We belong to a scheme of nature in which the chief factor is the infinitesimal. The composition of the elements depends on the multitudinous accretions of particles. We are most in danger when we overlook the power of mere atoms to affect us, and when we despise trivial causes of mischief.

A cathedral clock with its musical chimes suddenly stopt intoning its sacred and beautiful melodies. The cause was for a time a perplexity, as nothing could be discovered to have gone wrong with the machinery of the chimes. But at length it was found that a frail brown butterfly had become entangled in the wheelworks, and had brought to a complete standstill the clock and its chimes. (Text.)

(1868)

Dr. S. P. Henson says:

What a multitude of threads make up a fringe; and yet how beautiful and costly when completed! And here is found a beauty of the real Christian life. There are not a few who may be willing upon rare and notable occasions to do or suffer some great thing, but the ten thousand little things of life are entirely beneath their notice, as they also suppose them to be beneath the notice of the Lord. (Text.)

(1869)

SeeFaith in God.

Lives Corresponding to the Bible—SeeNative Converts.

LIVES THAT SHINE

Don’t waste your time in longingFor bright, impossible things;Don’t sit supinely yearningFor the swiftness of angel wings;Don’t spurn to be a rushlightBecause you are not a star;But brighten some bit of darknessBy shining just where you are.There is need of the tiniest candleAs well as the garish sun;The humblest deed is ennobledWhen it is worthily done.You may never be called to brightenThe darkened regions afar;So fill, for the day, your missionBy shining just where you are.Just where you are, my brother,Just where God bids you stand,Tho down in the deepest shadow,Instead of the sunlit land;You may carry a brightness with youThat no gloom or darkness can mar,For the light of a Christlike spiritWill be shining wherever you are.(Text.)

Don’t waste your time in longing

For bright, impossible things;

Don’t sit supinely yearning

For the swiftness of angel wings;

Don’t spurn to be a rushlight

Because you are not a star;

But brighten some bit of darkness

By shining just where you are.

There is need of the tiniest candleAs well as the garish sun;The humblest deed is ennobledWhen it is worthily done.You may never be called to brightenThe darkened regions afar;So fill, for the day, your missionBy shining just where you are.

There is need of the tiniest candle

As well as the garish sun;

The humblest deed is ennobled

When it is worthily done.

You may never be called to brighten

The darkened regions afar;

So fill, for the day, your mission

By shining just where you are.

Just where you are, my brother,Just where God bids you stand,Tho down in the deepest shadow,Instead of the sunlit land;You may carry a brightness with youThat no gloom or darkness can mar,For the light of a Christlike spiritWill be shining wherever you are.(Text.)

Just where you are, my brother,

Just where God bids you stand,

Tho down in the deepest shadow,

Instead of the sunlit land;

You may carry a brightness with you

That no gloom or darkness can mar,

For the light of a Christlike spirit

Will be shining wherever you are.(Text.)

(1870)

Living in the Faith of Jesus—SeeChrist, Faith in.

LIVING IN THE SHADOW

The second Duke of Wellington inherited a great talent for reticence from his father, and did not succeed to his title until he was forty-five. He had served in the army and in the House of Commons without making his mark in either save by conscientious attention to duty. In the House of Lords, however, shortly after taking his seat, he delivered a speech revealing such an intimate knowledge of public business, and of such luminous good sense, as to occasion surprize. Among those who congratulated him was “the candid friend” always present on such occasions. This “candid friend” explained to the duke that the latter had been generally regarded as a “colorless” man, and congratulated him on disproving the charge. The duke made a reply, applicable to many, saying, “If you had sat in the shade of a great tree for almost fifty years very likely people would have regarded you as colorless, too.”George V, like the second Duke of Wellington, has for almost half a century lived in the shadow of a great tree. From infancy up to his twenty-seventh year he was in the second rank of public interest. Not a negligible quantity, he yet could not be, while the Duke of Clarence lived, conspicuous. Moreover, he was wise to sink his royal personality in the discharge of his duty as a naval officer. The British have peculiar tastes and standards, and they do not altogether like to see a younger member of the royal family very conspicuous in public affairs. A “pushful” prince would be almost obnoxious to their traditions. A royal general or a royal admiral must not lead too much, or the old jealousy of militarism might crop out in the nation, which licenses the existence of its standing army only from year to year. Consequently George V, when Duke of York and subsequently when Prince of Wales, may have been called upon to dissemble, and he may yet demonstrate that his reputation as a colorless man is due to the public inability to understand what constitutes the spectrum of character.—BostonTranscript.

George V, like the second Duke of Wellington, has for almost half a century lived in the shadow of a great tree. From infancy up to his twenty-seventh year he was in the second rank of public interest. Not a negligible quantity, he yet could not be, while the Duke of Clarence lived, conspicuous. Moreover, he was wise to sink his royal personality in the discharge of his duty as a naval officer. The British have peculiar tastes and standards, and they do not altogether like to see a younger member of the royal family very conspicuous in public affairs. A “pushful” prince would be almost obnoxious to their traditions. A royal general or a royal admiral must not lead too much, or the old jealousy of militarism might crop out in the nation, which licenses the existence of its standing army only from year to year. Consequently George V, when Duke of York and subsequently when Prince of Wales, may have been called upon to dissemble, and he may yet demonstrate that his reputation as a colorless man is due to the public inability to understand what constitutes the spectrum of character.—BostonTranscript.

(1871)

LIVING, STRENGTH FOR

There was a time when low on bended knee,With outstretched hand and wet uplifted eyeI cried: O Father, teach me how to die,And give me strength Death’s awful face to seeAnd not to fear. Henceforth my prayer shall be;Help me to live. Stern life stalks byRelentless and inexorable, no cryFor help or pity moveth her as sheGives to each one the burden of the day.Therefore, let us pray:Give us the strength we need to live, O Lord.—Julia C. R. Dorr.

There was a time when low on bended knee,

With outstretched hand and wet uplifted eye

I cried: O Father, teach me how to die,

And give me strength Death’s awful face to see

And not to fear. Henceforth my prayer shall be;

Help me to live. Stern life stalks by

Relentless and inexorable, no cry

For help or pity moveth her as she

Gives to each one the burden of the day.

Therefore, let us pray:

Give us the strength we need to live, O Lord.

—Julia C. R. Dorr.

(1872)

Living, The, as an Asset—SeeMotive, Mercenary.

LIVING THE GOSPEL

An American teacher was employed in Japan in a government school, on the understanding that during school hours he should not utter a word on the subject of Christianity. The engagement was faithfully kept, and he lived before his students the Christ life, but never spoke of it to them. Not a word was said to influence the young men committed to his care, but so beautiful was his character, and so blameless his example, that forty of the students without his knowledge, met in a grove and signed a secret covenant to abandon idolatry. Twenty-five of them entered the Kyoto Christian Training School and some of them are now preaching the gospel which their teacher unconsciously commended.

(1873)

Loads—SeeOverloading.

LOADS, BALKING UNDER

This morning I saw a pair of horses which had evidently become discouraged by being hitched to loads that were too heavy for them. At the start they did their best to go forward; when the driver struck them with his whip they made an effort to pull; but one could see that their spirit had been broken; the long struggle with unequal burdens had caused them to lose their confidence and their grip, and after a while they ceased to make any effort to move.I have often seen other horses loaded beyond their strength; but no matter how heavy their load, they would pull again and again with all their might, stretching to the utmost every muscle, nerve, and fiber in them; and, altho they could not start the load, they would never give up trying.Everywhere in life we find people like those horses. Some have become discouraged by trying to carry too heavy a load, and finally give up the struggle. They spurt a little now and again, but there is no heart, no spirit in their effort. The buoyancy and cheer and enthusiasm have gone out of their lives. They have been tugging away over heavy loads so long that they have become disheartened. There is no more fight in them.There are others who, no matter how heavy their load, will never cease in their efforts to go forward. They will try a thousand times with all their might and main; they will tug away until completely exhausted; they will gather their strength and try again and again without losing heart or courage. Nothing will daunt them, or induce them to give up the struggle. When everybody else lets go, they stick because they are made of winning material, the mettle which never gives up.—Success.

I have often seen other horses loaded beyond their strength; but no matter how heavy their load, they would pull again and again with all their might, stretching to the utmost every muscle, nerve, and fiber in them; and, altho they could not start the load, they would never give up trying.

Everywhere in life we find people like those horses. Some have become discouraged by trying to carry too heavy a load, and finally give up the struggle. They spurt a little now and again, but there is no heart, no spirit in their effort. The buoyancy and cheer and enthusiasm have gone out of their lives. They have been tugging away over heavy loads so long that they have become disheartened. There is no more fight in them.

There are others who, no matter how heavy their load, will never cease in their efforts to go forward. They will try a thousand times with all their might and main; they will tug away until completely exhausted; they will gather their strength and try again and again without losing heart or courage. Nothing will daunt them, or induce them to give up the struggle. When everybody else lets go, they stick because they are made of winning material, the mettle which never gives up.—Success.

(1874)

LOCAL PRIDE

Augustine Burrell tells the following incident which goes to prove that things are great or small to men, according to very local points of view:

Bonnor, the Australian cricketer, told us that until that evening he had never heard of Dr. Johnson. Thereupon somebody was thoughtless enough to titter audibly. “Yes,” added Bonnor, in heightened tones, and drawing himself proudly up, “and what is more, I come from a great country, where you might ride a horse sixty miles a day for three months, and never meet anybody who had.”

(1875)

Location—SeeSentiment Mixed.

Location in Animals—SeeDirection, Sense of.

LOCUSTS AS FOOD

In the East, as elsewhere, since the Biblical days of John’s “locusts and honey,” locusts have been deemed more or less edible. In Palestine to this day they are considered a luxury. The Jews fry them in sesame oil, sesame being the grain of which mention is made in the story of “Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves,” a favorite tale in theArabian Nightsentertainments.In Arabia Petrea locusts are dried in the sun and then ground into a sort of flour for baking; and in Central Africa certain tribes employ locusts for making a thick brown soup.In Madagascar they are baked in huge jars, fried in grease, and then mixed with rice, forming a dainty much affected by the dusky inhabitants of that big island.The Algerians have a simpler method. They merely boil the locusts in water and salt them to the taste. The Arabians grind and bake the locusts as cakes, roast them in butter, or else crush them in a mixture of camel’s cheese and dates.Locusts are also eaten, in times of famine, in southern Russia, generally by the poorest of the poor, among whom the insects are smoked like fish. In the preparation of locusts for food the legs and wings are invariably detached.It is said that, while the flavor of locusts is strangely disagreeable in the raw state, this flavor is readily disguised and even becomes agreeable when the insect is cooked. Some of the locust soups are, we are told, scarcely to be distinguished from beef broth; and when the little insects are fried in their own oil and slightly salted they take on a pleasing nutty flavor. (Text.)—Harper’s Weekly.

In Arabia Petrea locusts are dried in the sun and then ground into a sort of flour for baking; and in Central Africa certain tribes employ locusts for making a thick brown soup.

In Madagascar they are baked in huge jars, fried in grease, and then mixed with rice, forming a dainty much affected by the dusky inhabitants of that big island.

The Algerians have a simpler method. They merely boil the locusts in water and salt them to the taste. The Arabians grind and bake the locusts as cakes, roast them in butter, or else crush them in a mixture of camel’s cheese and dates.

Locusts are also eaten, in times of famine, in southern Russia, generally by the poorest of the poor, among whom the insects are smoked like fish. In the preparation of locusts for food the legs and wings are invariably detached.

It is said that, while the flavor of locusts is strangely disagreeable in the raw state, this flavor is readily disguised and even becomes agreeable when the insect is cooked. Some of the locust soups are, we are told, scarcely to be distinguished from beef broth; and when the little insects are fried in their own oil and slightly salted they take on a pleasing nutty flavor. (Text.)—Harper’s Weekly.

(1876)

LONELINESS, PERILS OF

Recently a London pastor preached a sermon on the after-business occupations of young people, in which he said that from 6 to 11P.M.was the danger zone for young folks who are employed during the day. Speaking of the mesmeric glitter of London, and the fascination of its so-called amusements,he made the assertion that he believed that the theaters and music-halls should be controlled by the churches.The Sunday-schoolChroniclesent an interviewer to ask him why he made this statement. His answer follows:“First of all,” said the pastor, “I have been so deeply imprest by the sense of awful loneliness which is experienced by young people coming to central London from the provinces. I know for a fact that scores of young men and women go to the bad because of the absolute friendlessness of their lives. Six months ago I spent two days at the Old Bailey Sessions House trying to snatch a girl of nineteen from prison. She came to London motherless and friendless, and was spoken to kindly by a young man in Oxford street. She appreciated the apparent sympathy which this stranger extended to her—well, the rest of the story of her downfall may be imagined. Many of these young people have nowhere to go after business hours but the music-hall or the public-house, and the things they take away from these places and retail in their houses of business are the questionable jokes which they have heard. So for these young people I plead for churches that are homes and amusements that are healthy.”—The Advance.

The Sunday-schoolChroniclesent an interviewer to ask him why he made this statement. His answer follows:

“First of all,” said the pastor, “I have been so deeply imprest by the sense of awful loneliness which is experienced by young people coming to central London from the provinces. I know for a fact that scores of young men and women go to the bad because of the absolute friendlessness of their lives. Six months ago I spent two days at the Old Bailey Sessions House trying to snatch a girl of nineteen from prison. She came to London motherless and friendless, and was spoken to kindly by a young man in Oxford street. She appreciated the apparent sympathy which this stranger extended to her—well, the rest of the story of her downfall may be imagined. Many of these young people have nowhere to go after business hours but the music-hall or the public-house, and the things they take away from these places and retail in their houses of business are the questionable jokes which they have heard. So for these young people I plead for churches that are homes and amusements that are healthy.”—The Advance.

(1877)

Lonesomeness Abated—SeeReminders.

LONGEVITY ACCOUNTED FOR

Senator Chauncey M. Depew, entertained at a dinner on the occasion of his seventy-sixth birthday, said:

Fifty-four years in public and semipublic life and upon the platform all over this country and in Europe for all sorts of objects in every department of human interest have given me a larger acquaintance than almost anybody living. The sum of observation and experience growing out of this opportunity is that granted normal conditions, no hereditary troubles, and barring accidents and plagues, the man who dies before seventy commits suicide. Mourning the loss of friends has led me to study the causes of their earlier departure. It could invariably be traced to intemperance in the broadest sense of that word; intemperance in eating, in drinking, in the gratification of desires, in work, and in irregularity of hours, crowning it all with unnecessary worry.—New YorkTimes.

(1878)

Longevity and Work—SeeIndustry and Longevity.

LONGEVITY, EXAMPLE OF

One of the most extraordinary incidents in the whole record of longevity is reported from Pesth, in Hungary, where a beggar, aged eighty-four, tried to commit suicide by throwing himself into the Danube because he was no longer able to support his father and mother, who are one hundred and fifteen and one hundred and ten years old, respectively. When he told this story, after his rescue, it was laughed at, but a police inquiry showed it to be true. The family are Magyars from the extreme south of Hungary.—Public Opinion.

(1879)

LONGEVITY INCREASING

“It is estimated,” said Dr. Felton, the learned Georgia statesman, divine, and M.D., in an address before the graduating class of Atlanta Medical College, “that human life has increased twenty-five per cent in the past fifty years.” The average human life in Rome under Cæsar was eighteen years; now it is forty. The average in France fifty years ago was twenty-eight; the mean duration in 1887 was forty-five and one-half years. In Geneva during the thirteenth century a generation played its part upon the stage and disappeared in fourteen years; now the drama requires forty years before the curtain falls. During the golden reign of good Queen Bess, in London and all the large cities of merry old England, fifty out of every 1,000 paid the last debt to nature early, which means instead of threescore-and-ten, they averaged but one score. Now, in the city of London, the average is forty-seven years.—Dr. Todd.

(1880)

SeeImproved Conditions.

LONGEVITY, RECIPES FOR

A complete list of infallible prescriptions for the prolongation of human life would fill a voluminous book, and would include some decidedly curious specifics. “To what do you ascribe your hale old age?” the Emperor Augustus asked a centenarian whom he found wrestling in the palestra and bandying jokes with the young athletes. “Intus mulso, foris oleo,” said the old fellow. “Oil for the skin and mead (water and honey) for the inner man.” Cardanus suggests that old age might be indefinitely postponed by a semifluid diet warmed (like mother’s milk) to the exact temperature of the human system; and Voltaire accuses hisrival Maupertuis of having hoped to attain a similar result by varnishing his hide with a sort of resinous paint (un poix resineux) that would prevent the vital strength from evaporating by exhalation. Robert Burton recommends “oil of unaphar and dormouse fat”; Paracelsus rectified spirits of alcohol; Horace, olives and marshmallows. Dr. Zimmerman, the medical adviser of Frederick the Great, sums up the “Art of Longevity” in the following words: “Temperate habits, outdoor exercise, and steady industry, sweetened by occasional festivals.”(Text.)—Felix Oswald,Bedford’s Magazine.

(1881)

LONGING

The thing we long for, that we areFor one transcendent moment,Before the present, poor and bare,Can make its sneering comment.*****Longing is God’s fresh heavenward willWith our poor earthward striving;We quench it that it may be still—Content with merely living;But, would we learn that heart’s full scope,Which we are hourly wronging,Our lives must climb from hope to hope,And realize the longing.—James Russell Lowell.

The thing we long for, that we areFor one transcendent moment,Before the present, poor and bare,Can make its sneering comment.

The thing we long for, that we are

For one transcendent moment,

Before the present, poor and bare,

Can make its sneering comment.

*****

Longing is God’s fresh heavenward willWith our poor earthward striving;We quench it that it may be still—Content with merely living;But, would we learn that heart’s full scope,Which we are hourly wronging,Our lives must climb from hope to hope,And realize the longing.—James Russell Lowell.

Longing is God’s fresh heavenward will

With our poor earthward striving;

We quench it that it may be still—

Content with merely living;

But, would we learn that heart’s full scope,

Which we are hourly wronging,

Our lives must climb from hope to hope,

And realize the longing.

—James Russell Lowell.

(1882)

Look, The Kind—SeeFace, an Inviting.

LOOKING BOTH UP AND DOWN

“Your way is dark,” the angel said,“Because you downward gaze,Look up; the sun is overhead,Look up and learn to praise.”I looked; I learned. Who looks aboveWill find in heaven both light and love.“Why upward gaze?” the angel said;“Have you not learned to knowThe light of God shines overheadThat men may work below?”I learned. Who only looks aboveMay miss below the work of love,And thus I learned the lessons twain:The heart whose treasure is aboveWill gladly turn to earth againBecause the heaven is love.Yea, love that framed the starry heightCame down to earth and gave it light.—Bishop of Ripon.

“Your way is dark,” the angel said,

“Because you downward gaze,

Look up; the sun is overhead,

Look up and learn to praise.”

I looked; I learned. Who looks above

Will find in heaven both light and love.

“Why upward gaze?” the angel said;“Have you not learned to knowThe light of God shines overheadThat men may work below?”I learned. Who only looks aboveMay miss below the work of love,

“Why upward gaze?” the angel said;

“Have you not learned to know

The light of God shines overhead

That men may work below?”

I learned. Who only looks above

May miss below the work of love,

And thus I learned the lessons twain:The heart whose treasure is aboveWill gladly turn to earth againBecause the heaven is love.Yea, love that framed the starry heightCame down to earth and gave it light.—Bishop of Ripon.

And thus I learned the lessons twain:

The heart whose treasure is above

Will gladly turn to earth again

Because the heaven is love.

Yea, love that framed the starry height

Came down to earth and gave it light.

—Bishop of Ripon.

(1883)

LOOKING DOWN

It is usually the small-souled and narrow-minded man who can decry faults and failings with an eagle eye, but upon whom all the finer and grander qualities of humanity are lost. To him who ever walks with head bent and eyes on the ground the whole universe appears to be made of dust; but he who goes with head erect and eyes uplifted breathes the pure air and greets the rising sun, and forgets the dust that may be under his feet.—PhiladelphiaLedger.

(1884)

LOOKING UP

In the early days of Britain, when the Christian Cuthbert and his companions were driven from the bitter land to sea, and then were cast upon a dreary shore by a terrible storm, they cried, “No path is open for us; let us perish: we are driven from land to sea and from sea to land.” And Cuthbert answered, “Have ye so little faith, my comrades?” and then lifting his eyes to heaven he prayed, “I thank Thee, Lord, that the way to heaven is still open.”

When there is no other way to look for help, we may look up. (Text.)

(1885)

Loquacity—SeeVerbiage.

LORD’S PRAYER INTERPRETED

A friend tells us an anecdote of Booth, the tragedian:

Booth and several friends had been invited to dine with an old gentleman in Baltimore, of distinguished kindness, urbanity, and piety. The host, altho disapproving of theaters and theater-going, had heard so much of Booth’s remarkable powers that curiosity to see the man had, in this instance, overcome all scruples and prejudices. After the entertainment was over, lamps lighted, and the company reseated in the drawing-room, some one requested Booth as a particular favor, and one which all present would doubtless appreciate, to read aloud the Lord’s Prayer. Booth exprest his willingness to do this, and all eyes were turned expectantly upon him. Booth rose slowly and reverently from his chair. It was wonderful to watch the play of emotions that convulsed his countenance. He became deathly pale, and his eyes, turned tremblingly upward, were wet with tears. And yet he had not spoken. The silence could be felt. It became absolutely painful, till at last the spell was broken as if by an electric shock,as his rich-toned voice, from white lips syllabled forth, “Our Father who art in heaven,” etc., with a pathos and solemnity that thrilled all hearers. He finished. The silence continued. Not a voice was heard or a muscle moved in his rapt audience, till from a remote corner of the room a subdued sob was heard, and the old gentleman, their host, stept forward, with streaming eyes and tottering frame, and seized Booth by the hand. “Sir,” said he, in broken accents, “you have afforded me a pleasure for which my whole future life will feel grateful. I am an old man, and every day from my boyhood to the present time I thought I had repeated the Lord’s prayer; but I have never heard it—never.” “You are right,” replied Booth; “to read that prayer as it should be read has caused me the severest study and labor for thirty years; and I am far from being satisfied with my rendering of that wonderful production.”—The Millenarian.

(1886)

Losing and Saving—SeeMessage, A Timely.

Loss and Gain—SeeCompensation;Deportment;Fast Living.

LOSS AND PROFIT

It is said that the bursting of a pin in the driving-wheel of an engine in the Illinois Steel Company will cost the company $369,000, since the accident stopt the operation of the whole plant about six days and a half, and the loss involved by the stop was reckoned at about $40 a minute. This fable teaches that great business operations work both ways: where big profits are made big losses stand ready to overwhelm when something goes wrong.

(1887)

Loss Creating Wealth—SeeDiscovery, Accidental.

LOSS, GAIN IN

When Mahamoud, the conqueror of India, took the city of Gujarat, he proceeded, as his custom was, to destroy the idols. One of these, standing fifteen feet high, the attendant priests and devotees begged him to spare. But, deaf to their entreaties, he seized a hammer and smote the idol, when to his amazement from the shattered image there rained a shower of gems—pearls and diamonds—treasures of fabulous value hidden within it. (Text.)

(1888)

Loss Through Disuse—SeeTalents, Buried.

Lost and Won—SeeSuccess.

LOST CHORDS

How few of us have kept the early joy, and have continued in blest peace? Of course, you know the story of the lost chord? A woman, in the shadows of the twilight, when her heart was sad, gently touched the keys of a glorious organ. She did not know nor care what she was playing; her fingers lingered idly but caressingly upon the keys. Suddenly she struck a chord, and its wondrous melody as it filled the room was uplifting and transforming and heavenly.

It flooded the crimson twilight,Like the close of an angel’s psalm,And it lay on her fevered spiritWith the touch of infinite calm.It quieted pain and sorrow,Like love overcoming strife;It seemed the harmonious echoFrom our discordant life.It linked all perplexed meaningsInto one perfect peace,And trembled away in silence,As if it were loath to cease.

It flooded the crimson twilight,Like the close of an angel’s psalm,And it lay on her fevered spiritWith the touch of infinite calm.

It flooded the crimson twilight,

Like the close of an angel’s psalm,

And it lay on her fevered spirit

With the touch of infinite calm.

It quieted pain and sorrow,Like love overcoming strife;It seemed the harmonious echoFrom our discordant life.

It quieted pain and sorrow,

Like love overcoming strife;

It seemed the harmonious echo

From our discordant life.

It linked all perplexed meaningsInto one perfect peace,And trembled away in silence,As if it were loath to cease.

It linked all perplexed meanings

Into one perfect peace,

And trembled away in silence,

As if it were loath to cease.

Something disturbed this woman and called her from the organ. As soon as possible she hurried back and began to play, but this divine chord was gone, and tho she kept on playing she could not bring it back again. (Text.)—Curtis Lee Laws.

(1889)

LOST, CRY OF THE

A drover in Dakota promised to bring home from his cattle sale a doll for his little girl. He was caught in a blizzard, and night found him still miles from home. In the darkness he heard a cry, possibly of a child lost in the storm. He was thankful for the warm house that sheltered his own child, but he could not leave that cry off in the dark, tho he knew he was risking his life lingering. It was hard tracing the feeble cry, and when at last he found it it was not crying. He gathered it up under his big overcoat and struggled homeward, stumbling, nearly perishing, but at last fell in over his own threshold, with his own child saved in his arms.—Franklin Noble, “Sermons in Illustration.”

(1890)

LOST, FINDING THE

Shortly before the death of Eugene Field a friend from one of the Southern States told him a pathetic story of a girlwho had wandered away from her home in the country and taken refuge in a large city, with the usual results of that dangerous step:

Her old father mourned for the girl he had lost; but in his simplicity it never occurred to him to try to find her, for the world beyond the limits of his township was vast and forbidding. But word came to him one day that somebody had seen his daughter in the city, one hundred miles away, and with only that to guide him he went in search of her.Once in the city, he shrank from the noise and confusion of the crowds. He waited until night, and then when the streets were comparatively deserted, he roamed up and down from one street to another, giving the peculiar cry he had always used when looking for a lost lamb—a cry the girl herself had heard and given many times in her better days. A policeman stopt the old man and warned him that he was disturbing the peace, whereupon the father told his story and said:“She will come to me if she hears that cry.”The officer was moved by the old man’s simplicity and earnestness, and offered to accompany him in his search. So on they went up and down the thoroughfares and into the most abandoned sections of the city, the farmer giving the plaintive cry and the officer leading the way that seemed the most promising of success.And success did come. The girl heard the cry, recognized it, and intuitively felt that it was for her. She rushed into the street and straight to her father’s arms. She confest the weariness and misery of her lot, and begged that he would take her back to the farm, where she might begin a new and better life. Together they left the city the next day. (Text.)

Once in the city, he shrank from the noise and confusion of the crowds. He waited until night, and then when the streets were comparatively deserted, he roamed up and down from one street to another, giving the peculiar cry he had always used when looking for a lost lamb—a cry the girl herself had heard and given many times in her better days. A policeman stopt the old man and warned him that he was disturbing the peace, whereupon the father told his story and said:

“She will come to me if she hears that cry.”

The officer was moved by the old man’s simplicity and earnestness, and offered to accompany him in his search. So on they went up and down the thoroughfares and into the most abandoned sections of the city, the farmer giving the plaintive cry and the officer leading the way that seemed the most promising of success.

And success did come. The girl heard the cry, recognized it, and intuitively felt that it was for her. She rushed into the street and straight to her father’s arms. She confest the weariness and misery of her lot, and begged that he would take her back to the farm, where she might begin a new and better life. Together they left the city the next day. (Text.)

(1891)

Lost, Not, but Gone Before—SeeEvidence, Providential.

LOST, SEEKING THE

Years ago when Charley Ross was kidnapped, his broken-hearted father declared: “I will search for my lost boy while life lasts. I will go up and down the earth, and look into the face of this child and that to see if it is my lost boy.”

The great Father is engaged in a similar search; nor will He rest until the lost is found. (Text.)

(1892)

The Arab Waziers have a tradition as to their origin:

A certain ancestor had two sons, Issa and Missa, which may mean Jesus and Moses. Missa was a shepherd, and one day a lamb wandered away and was not to be found. For three days and nights Missa sought it far and near through the jungle. On the fourth morning he found it in a distant valley, and instead of being angry with the lamb for straying and giving him all his pains and anxiety, he took it in his arms, prest it to his bosom, kissed it tenderly and carried it back to the flock. For this humane act God greatly blest Missa and made him progenitor of the Wazir tribe. (Text.)

(1893)

Lot, Consulting the Bible by—SeeBibliomancy.

LOVE

To cease from egotistic ambition and learn love with a humble mind is the lesson of this verse by John G. Neehardt:

For my faith was the faith of dusk and riot,The faith of fevered blood and selfish lust;Until I learned that love is cool and quietAnd not akin to dust.For once as in Apocalyptic vision,Above my smoking altars did I seeMy god’s face, veilless, ugly with derision—The shameless, magnified; projected—Me!And I have left mine ancient fanes to crumble,And I have hurled my false gods from the sky;I wish to grasp the joy of being humble,To build great love an altar ere I die.

For my faith was the faith of dusk and riot,The faith of fevered blood and selfish lust;Until I learned that love is cool and quietAnd not akin to dust.

For my faith was the faith of dusk and riot,

The faith of fevered blood and selfish lust;

Until I learned that love is cool and quiet

And not akin to dust.

For once as in Apocalyptic vision,Above my smoking altars did I seeMy god’s face, veilless, ugly with derision—The shameless, magnified; projected—Me!

For once as in Apocalyptic vision,

Above my smoking altars did I see

My god’s face, veilless, ugly with derision—

The shameless, magnified; projected—Me!

And I have left mine ancient fanes to crumble,And I have hurled my false gods from the sky;I wish to grasp the joy of being humble,To build great love an altar ere I die.

And I have left mine ancient fanes to crumble,

And I have hurled my false gods from the sky;

I wish to grasp the joy of being humble,

To build great love an altar ere I die.

(1894)

Love is not merely a sentiment. It will have its material expression if it is real. The following from Dr. W. T. Grenfell refers to the fishermen of the North Sea Coast:

The intense cold of winter, and the inadequacy of the warm clothes with which the men, and especially the boys, were unable to provide themselves, claimed attention, and warm hearts of Christian ladies told all over England were moved by the tales of this great need. Hundreds and thousands of warm mittens, helmets, mufflers, andguernseys have been sent out during these past years, and have been true messages of love.“Look ’ere,” said a grizzled skipper, pulling out three mufflers from his pocket, to three wild friends of his whom he was visiting, “look ’ere, will yer admit there’s love in those mufflers? Yer see them ladies never see’d yer, nor never knowed yer, yet they jest sent me these mufflers for you. Well, then, how much more must Christ Jesus ’ave loved yer, when He give His life blood to save yer.”I have it from his own lips as well as one of theirs, that this was the beginning of leading those three men to God; and before he left the ship that night, they were trusting in Christ for pardon, and for strength to live as His children.

“Look ’ere,” said a grizzled skipper, pulling out three mufflers from his pocket, to three wild friends of his whom he was visiting, “look ’ere, will yer admit there’s love in those mufflers? Yer see them ladies never see’d yer, nor never knowed yer, yet they jest sent me these mufflers for you. Well, then, how much more must Christ Jesus ’ave loved yer, when He give His life blood to save yer.”

I have it from his own lips as well as one of theirs, that this was the beginning of leading those three men to God; and before he left the ship that night, they were trusting in Christ for pardon, and for strength to live as His children.

(1895)

Joseph Dana Miller shows how love socializes the solitary soul:

God pity those who know not the touch of hands—Who dwell from all their fellows far apart,Who, isolated in unpeopled lands,Know not a friend’s communion, heart to heart!But pity these—oh, pity these the more,Who of the populous town a desert make,Pent in a solitude upon whose shoreThe tides of sweet compassion never break!These are the dread Saharas we encloseAbout our lives when love we put away;Amid life’s roses, not a scent of rose;Amid the blossoming, nothing but decay.But if ’tis love we search for, knowledge comes,And love that passeth knowledge—God is there!Who seek the love of hearts find in their homesPeace at the threshold, angels on the stair. (Text.)—Munsey’s Magazine.

God pity those who know not the touch of hands—Who dwell from all their fellows far apart,Who, isolated in unpeopled lands,Know not a friend’s communion, heart to heart!

God pity those who know not the touch of hands—

Who dwell from all their fellows far apart,

Who, isolated in unpeopled lands,

Know not a friend’s communion, heart to heart!

But pity these—oh, pity these the more,Who of the populous town a desert make,Pent in a solitude upon whose shoreThe tides of sweet compassion never break!

But pity these—oh, pity these the more,

Who of the populous town a desert make,

Pent in a solitude upon whose shore

The tides of sweet compassion never break!

These are the dread Saharas we encloseAbout our lives when love we put away;Amid life’s roses, not a scent of rose;Amid the blossoming, nothing but decay.

These are the dread Saharas we enclose

About our lives when love we put away;

Amid life’s roses, not a scent of rose;

Amid the blossoming, nothing but decay.

But if ’tis love we search for, knowledge comes,And love that passeth knowledge—God is there!Who seek the love of hearts find in their homesPeace at the threshold, angels on the stair. (Text.)—Munsey’s Magazine.

But if ’tis love we search for, knowledge comes,

And love that passeth knowledge—God is there!

Who seek the love of hearts find in their homes

Peace at the threshold, angels on the stair. (Text.)

—Munsey’s Magazine.

(1896)

The old fable of the bar of iron as an illustration of the superior power of love will never be superseded.

The bar of iron lay across a log to be broken. “I can make it yield,” boasted the hammer, but at the first blow the hammer flew from its handle helpless to the ground. The ax followed proudly, “I can succeed.” But after two or three strokes its edge was dulled without leaving any impression on the iron bar. “I, with my sharp teeth, will soon sever it,” said the saw, with a confident air; only to have all its teeth broken in the task. At length a quiet, warm flame said, “Let me try, it may yield to me.” And the little flame twined itself about the iron in a gentle, loving way, imparting an influence that finally made the strong bar yield and fall apart.

(1897)

The power of love to draw out what is best in men is poetically exprest by L. M. Montgomery:

Upon the marsh mud, dank and foul,A golden sunbeam softly fell,And from the noisome depths aroseA lily miracle.Upon a dark, bemired lifeA gleam of human love was flung.And lo, from that ungenial soilA noble deed upsprung.

Upon the marsh mud, dank and foul,A golden sunbeam softly fell,And from the noisome depths aroseA lily miracle.

Upon the marsh mud, dank and foul,

A golden sunbeam softly fell,

And from the noisome depths arose

A lily miracle.

Upon a dark, bemired lifeA gleam of human love was flung.And lo, from that ungenial soilA noble deed upsprung.

Upon a dark, bemired life

A gleam of human love was flung.

And lo, from that ungenial soil

A noble deed upsprung.

(1898)

Upon the foundation of love a great work was done in Paris, France:

When Mr. McAll began his work he could utter but two sentences in the tongue of those workingmen. One was “God loves you,” and the other, “I love you”; and upon those two, as pillars, the whole arch rests.—Pierson, “The Miracles of Missions.”

(1899)

SeeProdigal, The.

LOVE A FINALITY

In his poem “Virgillia” Edwin Markham has these stanzas:

If this all is a dream, then perhaps our dreamingCan touch life’s height to a finer fire;Who knows but the heavens and all their seeming,Were made by the heart’s desire?One thing shines clear in the heart’s own reason,One lightning over the chasm runs—That to turn from love is the world’s one treasonThat treads down all the suns.So I go to the long adventure, liftingMy face to the far, mysterious goals,To the last assize, to the final siftingOf gods and stars and souls. (Text.)—The Cosmopolitan.

If this all is a dream, then perhaps our dreamingCan touch life’s height to a finer fire;Who knows but the heavens and all their seeming,Were made by the heart’s desire?

If this all is a dream, then perhaps our dreaming

Can touch life’s height to a finer fire;

Who knows but the heavens and all their seeming,

Were made by the heart’s desire?

One thing shines clear in the heart’s own reason,One lightning over the chasm runs—That to turn from love is the world’s one treasonThat treads down all the suns.

One thing shines clear in the heart’s own reason,

One lightning over the chasm runs—

That to turn from love is the world’s one treason

That treads down all the suns.

So I go to the long adventure, liftingMy face to the far, mysterious goals,To the last assize, to the final siftingOf gods and stars and souls. (Text.)—The Cosmopolitan.

So I go to the long adventure, lifting

My face to the far, mysterious goals,

To the last assize, to the final sifting

Of gods and stars and souls. (Text.)

—The Cosmopolitan.

(1900)

LOVE A HARMONIZER

Life’s harmony must have its discords; but, as in music, pathos is tempered into pleasure by the pervading spirit of beauty, so are all life’s sounds tempered by love.—George Henry Lewes.

(1901)

Love, A Mother’s—SeeMother-love.

LOVE, A PROOF OF

We can not permanently benefit men until we are willing to get near to them. The Christian method of charity is illustrated in this incident in the career of a notable promoter of London city missions:

Love is not fastidious; her hands are as busy as her heart is full. He (Frank Crossley) found five dirty youngsters (their father a sot, their mother in the sick ward), and he burned their old clothes and clad them in clean ones, and then sent them to play with his own boy! Is it any wonder if both their father and mother were won?—Pierson, “The Miracles of Missions.”

(1902)

LOVE AND LAW

As to which was the first and greatest command, the rabbis were in grave doubt. Most agreed that the smallest and least command was the one concerning the bird’s nest, recorded in Deut. 22:6, 7; but when it came to the first and greatest, they were in doubt, whether it was the one respecting the observance of the Sabbath, or the law concerning circumcision, or the one concerning fringes and phylacteries, while still others contended that the omission of ceremonial ablutions was as bad as homicide. With these distinctions and differences and absurd hair-splittings in mind the young lawyer addrest the master with the question, “Which is the first commandment of all?” What a majestic answer was that which he received! Nothing in it about fringes and phylacteries, nothing about ceremonial washings, nothing about attitudes and genuflections; but the grand answer which will abide for all time to come: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength, this is the first commandment.” This answer goes to the heart of the matter. Eighteen hundred years have not suggested any improvement or addition to the great answer, nor will eighteen hundred years to come, because it embraces all other answers and is the sum total of morality.—The Golden Rule.

(1903)

LOVE AND TIME

Love that lasts is the power that binds heart to heart with the indissoluble bonds. Such love knows no limit of time. Dr. Van Dyke says:

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