I have seen
A curious child, who dwelt upon a tract
Of inland ground, applying to his ear
The convolutions of a smooth-lipp'd shell:
To which, in silence hush'd, his very soul
Listen'd intensely; and his countenance soon
Brighten'd with joy; for murm'rings from
within

We heard-sonorous cadences! whereby,
To his belief, the monitor express'd
Mysterious union with his native sea.
Even such a shell the universe itself
Is to the ear of Faith.

William Wordsworth.
1214. FAITH, Elevation of

The pious man In this bad world, where mists and couchant storms [faith Hide heaven's fine circlet, springs aloft in Above the clouds that threat him, to the fields Of ether, where the day is never veiled With intervening vapors; and looks down Serene upon the troublous sea that hides The earth's fair breast, that sea whose nether

face

To grovelling mortals frowns and darkens all;
But on whose billowy back, from man con-
The glaring sunbeam plays.
[cealed,
Henry Kirke White.

1215. FAITH, Gift of.

O faith, thou workest miracles

Upon the hearts of men,
Choosing thy home in those same hearts
We know not how or when.

O gift of gifts! O grace of faith!
My God! how can it be
That Thou, who hast discerning love,
Shouldst give that gift to me?
There was a place, there was a time,
Whither by night or day,
Thy Spirit came and left that gift,
And went upon His way.

How many hearts Thou mightst have had
More innocent than mine!

How many souls more worthy far
Of that sweet touch of Thine!

Ah, grace! unto unlikeliest hearts
It is Thy boast to come,
The glory of Thy light to find
In darkest spots a home.

How will they die, how will they die,
How bear the cross of grief,
Who have not got the light of faith,
The courage of belief?

The crowd of cares, the weightiest cross,
Seems trifles less than light,

Earth looks so little and so low,
When faith shines full and bright.
O happy, happy that I am!
If thou canst be, O faith!
The treasure that thou art in life,
What wilt thou be in death?

F. W. Faber.

1216. FAITH, Guard thy.
Guard thy faith with holy care,
Mystic virtues slumber there;
'Tis the lamp within the soul
Holding Genii in control;

Faith shall walk the stormy water;
In the unequal strife prevail;
Nor when comes the dread avatar,
From its fiery splendors quail.
Faith shall triumph o'er the grave,
Love shall bless the life it gave.
Mrs. 8. H. Whitman.

1217. FAITH, Lack of.

Look aside to lack of faith, the mass of ills it bringeth;

round the heart

All things treacherous, base, and vile, dissolving the brotherhood of men. Bonds break; the cement hath lost its hold; and each is separate from other; That which should be neighborly and good is cankered into bitterness and evil. O thou serpent, fell Suspicion, coiling coldly [to the soulO thou asp of subtle Jealousy, stinging hotly O distrust, reserve, and doubt-what reptile shapes are here, [among its flowers! Poisoning the garden of a world with death No need of many words, the tale is easy to be told: [the picture. A point will touch the truth, a line suggest For if, in thine own home, a cautious man and captious, [soon wilt make a thief: Thou hintest at suspicion of a servant, thou Or if, too keen in care, thou dost evidently disbelieve thy child,

Thou hast injured the texture of his honor, and smoothed to him the way of lying Or if thou observest upon friends, as seeking thee selfishly for interest,

Thou hast hurt their kindliness to thee, and shalt be paid with scorn.

M. F. Tupper.

1218. FAITH, Lesson of.

Tauler, the preacher, walked, one autumn day,

Without the walls of Strasburg, by the Rhine,
Pondering the solemn miracle of life;
As one who, wandering in-a starless night,
Feels, momently, the jar of unseen waves,
And hears the thunder of an unknown sea,
Breaking along an unimagined shore.

same

And as he walked he prayed. Even the [years, Old prayer with which, for half a score of Morning, and noon, and evening, lip and heart

Had groaned: "Have pity upon me, Lord! Thou seest, while teaching others, I am blindSend me a man who can direct my steps! Then, as he mused, he heard along his A sound as of an old man's staff among [path The dry, dead linden leaves; and looking up, He saw a stranger, weak, and poor, and old. "Peace be unto thee, father!" Tauler said; “God give thee a good day?" The old man raised [son; Slowly his calm blue eyes: "I thank thee, But all my days are good, and none are ill." Wondering thereat, the preacher spake again, [smiled, "God give thee happy life." The old man “I never am unhappy.”

Tauler laid [sleeve: His hand upon the stranger's coarse, gray "Tell me, O father, what thy strange words

mean.

66

Surely man's days are evil, and his life [son,
Sad as the grave it leads to." Nay, my
Our times are in God's hands, and all our days
Are as our needs: for shadow as for sun,
For cold as heat, for want as wealth, alike
Our thanks are due, since that is best which is:
And that which is not, sharing not his life,
Is evil only as devoid of good.

And for the happiness of which I spake,
I find it in submission to His will,
And calm trust in the holy Trinity [power."
Of Knowledge, Goodness, and Almighty
Silently wondering for a little space, [one
Stood the great preacher; then he spake as
Who, suddenly grappling with a haunting
thought
[the dark,
Which long has followed whispering through
Strange terrors, drags it shrieking, into light:
"What if God's will consign thee hence to
Hell?"

Like the first ray which fell on chaos, clove
Apart the shadow wherein he had walked
Darkly at noon. And, as the strange old man
Went his slow way, until his silver hair [vine
Seemed like the white moon where the hills of
Slope to the Rhine, he bowed his head, and
said:
[man
My prayer is answered. God hath sent the
Long sought, to teach me, by his simple trust,
Wisdom the weary schoolmen never knew."

So, entering with a changed and cheerful

step

The city gates, he saw, far down the street,
A mighty shadow break the light of noon,
Which tracing backward till its airy lines
O'er broad façade and lofty pediment,
Hardened to stony plinths, he raised his eyes
O'er architrave and frieze and sainted niche,
Up the stone lacework, chiselled by the wise
Erwin of Steinbach, dizzily up to where
In the noon brightness the great minster's
tower,

Jewelled with sunbeams on its mural crown,
Rose like a visible prayer. "Behold!" ho
said,
[eyes.
As yonder tower outstretches to the earth
"The stranger's faith made plain before mine
The dark triangle of its shade alone,
When the clear day is shining on its top,
So, darkness in the pathway of man's life
Is but the shadow of God's providence,
By the great Sun of Wisdom cast thereon;
And what is dark below is light in heaven."
J. G. Whittier.

1219. FAITH, Light of. Faith lights us through the dark to Deity: Whilst, without sight, we witness that she

To thy heart take faith Soft beacon-light upon a stormy sea; A mantle for the pure in heart, to pass Through a dim world untouched by living death; A cheerful watcher through the spirit's night, Soothing the grief from which she may not flee;

A herald of glad news; a seraph bright, Pointing to sheltering heavens yet to be. Lucy Hooper.

1221. FAITH, Offspring of Therefore love and believe, for works will follow spontaneous,

Even as the day the sun; the right from the good is an offspring,

Love is a bodily shape; and Christian works are no more than

Animate faith and love, as flowers are the animate spring-tide.

H. W. Longfellow.

1222. FAITH, Omnipotence of.

That mighty faith on me bestow,

Which cannot ask in vain,
Which holds, and will not let Thee go,
Till I my suit obtain:

Till Thou into my soul inspire
The perfect love unknown,
And tell my infinite desire,
"Whate'er Thou wilt, be done."

But is it possible that I

Should live and sin no more?
Lord, if on Thee I dare rely,

The faith shall bring the power.
On me that faith divine bestow,

Which doth the mountains move;
And all my spotless life shall show
Th' omnipotence of love.

Charles Wesley.

1223. FAITH, Our Father's.
Faith of our fathers! living still

In spite of dungeon, fire, and sword;
Oh how our hearts beat high with joy
Whene'er we hear that glorious word;
Faith of our fathers! Holy Faith!
We will be true to thee till death.

Our fathers chained in prisons dark,

Were still in heart and conscience free; How sweet would be their children's fate, If they, like them, could die for Thee! Faith of our fathers! Holy Faith! We will be true to thee till death.

Faith of our fathers! we will love

Both friend and foe in all our strife; And preach thee, too, as love knows how, By kindly words and virtuous life; Faith of our fathers! Holy Faith! We will be true to Thee till death.

1224. FAITH, Power of

F. W. Faber.

Triumphant faith! Who, from the distant earth, looks up to Seeing invisibility, suspending [heaven, Eternity from the breath of God. She can pluck mountains from their rooted thrones,

And hurl them into ocean; and from pain, And prisons, and contempt, extort the palm Of everlasting triumph. She doth tread Upon the neck of pride, like the free wind On angry ocean. Lo! with step erect [fires, She walks o'er whirlpool waves and martyr And depths of darkness and chaotic voids; Dissolving worlds, rent heavens, and dying Yea, and o'er paradises of earth's bliss, [suns; And oceans of earth's gold, and pyramids And temples of earth's glory; all these she

spurns

With feet fire-shod, because her hand is placed
Immovably in God's: her eye doth rest
Unchangeably on His: nor will she stop
Till, having cross'd the stormy waves of pain
And fiery trial, she may lay her head

Upon her Father's breast and take the crown From love's rejoicing hand. E. Tatham.

1225. FAITH, Praying in.
Come, O Thou Traveller unknown,
Whom still I hold, but cannot see,
My company before is gone,

And I am left alone with Thee;
With Thee all night I mean to stay,
And wrestle till the break of day.
I need not tell Thee who I am,
My misery or sin declare;
Thyself hast call'd me by my name;

Look on Thy hands, and read it there!
But Who, I ask Thee, Who art Thou?
Tell me Thy Name, and tell me now.
In vain Thou strugglest to get free,
I never will unloose my hold;
Art Thou the Man that died for me?
The secret of Thy love unfold.
Wrestling, I will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know.
Wilt Thou not yet to me reveal

Thy new, unutterable Name?
Tell me, I still beseech Thee, tell;

To know it now, resolved I am : Wrestling, I will not let Thee go, Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know. 'Tis all in vain to hold Thy tongue,.

Or touch the hollow of my thigh; Though every sinew be unstrung,

Out of my arms Thou shalt not fly;
Wrestling, I will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know.
What though my shrinking flesh complain,
And murmur to contend so long?
I rise superior to my pain;

When I am weak, then I am strong:
And when my all of strength shall fail,
I shall with the God-Man prevail.
My strength is gone; my nature dies;
I sink beneath Thy mighty hand,
Faint to revive, and fall to rise;

I fall, and yet by faith I stand;
I stand, and will not let Thee go,
Till I Thy Name, Thy Nature know.
Yield to me now, for I am weak,

But confident in self-despair;
Speak to my heart, in blessings speak,

Be conquer'd by my instant prayer!
Speak, or Thou never hence shalt move,
And tell me if Thy Name is Love?
'Tis Love! 'tis Love! Thou diedst for me!
I hear Thy whisper in my heart!
The morning breaks, the shadows flee;

Pure universal Love Thou art!

To me, to all, Thy bowels move:
Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love!
My prayer hath power with God; the grace
Unspeakable I now receive;

Through faith I see Thee face to face,
I see Thee face to face, and live:
In vain I have not wept and strove;
Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love.

I know Thee, Saviour, Who Thou art;
Jesus, the feeble sinner's Friend!
Nor wilt Thou with the night depart,
But stay and love me to the end!
Thy mercies never shall remove,
Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love!
The Sun of Righteousness on me

Hath rose, with healing in His wings;
Wither'd my nature's strength, from Thee
My soul its life and succor brings;
My help is all laid up above;
Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love.

Contented now upon my thigh

I halt, till life's short journey end; All helplessness, all weakness, I

On Thee alone for strength depend; Nor have I power from Thee to move; Thy Nature, and Thy Name, is Love.

Lame as I am, I take the prey,

Hell, earth, and sin, with ease o'ercome; I leap for joy, pursue my way,

And as a bounding hart fly home!
Through all eternity to prove
Thy Nature and Thy Name is Love!
Charles Wesley.

1226. FAITH, Profession of
Not words alone it cost the Lord
To purchase pardon for His own;
Nor will a soul by grace restored
Return the Saviour words alone.

With golden bells, the priestly vest,
And rich pomegranates border'd round,
The need of holiness express'd,

And called for fruit as well as sound.

Easy, indeed, it were to reach

A mansion in the courts above,
If swelling words and fluent speech
Might serve instead of faith and love.

But none shall gain the blissful place,
Or God's unclouded glory see,
Who talks of free and sovereign grace,
Unless that grace has made him free!
William Cowper.

1227. FAITH, Reason and.
True faith and reason are the soul's two eyes;
Faith evermore looks upward and descries
Objects remote; but reason can discover
Things only near,-sees nothing that's above

1228. FAITH, Salvation by.

And can it be, that I should gain

An interest in the Saviour's blood? Died He for me, who caus'd His pain,

For me, who Him to death pursued? Amazing Love! how can it be, That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

'Tis mystery all! Th' Immortal dies! Who can explore His strange design? In vain the first-born seraph tries

To sound the depths of Love Divine. 'Tis mercy all! Let earth adore! Let angel minds inquire no more! He left His Father's throne above, (So free, so infinite His grace;) Emptied Himself of all but love,

And bled for Adam's helpless race. 'Tis mercy all, immense and free! For O, my God! it found out me!

Long my imprison'd spirit lay,

Fast bound in sin and nature's night; Thine eye diffus'd a quickening ray;

I woke; the dungeon flam'd with light: My chains fell off, my heart was free, I rose, went forth, and follow'd Thee! Still the small inward voice I hear, That whispers all my sins forgiven; Still the atoning Blood is near,

That quench'd the wrath of hostile Heaven; I feel the life His wounds impart ;

I feel my Saviour in my heart.

No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in Him, is mine!
Alive in Him, my living Head,

And cloth'd in righteousness Divine,
Bold I approach th' Eternal Throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
Charles Wesley.

1229. FAITH, Saved by.

Now the third and fatal conflict for the Persian throne was done,

And the Moslem's fiery valor had the crowning victory won.

Harmosan, the last and boldest the invader to defy,

Captive, overborne by numbers, they were bringing forth to die.

Then exclaimed that noble captive: "Lo, I perish in my thirst;

Give me but one drink of water, and let then arrive the worst!"

"But what fear'st thou?" cried the caliph ; "is it, friend, a secret blow?

Fear it not! our gallant Moslems no such treacherous dealing know.

"Thou mayst quench thy thirst securely, for thou shalt not die before

Thou hast drunk that cup of water,-this reprieve is thine-no more!"

Quick the satrap dashed the goblet down to earth with ready hand,

And the liquid sank forever, lost amid the burning sand.

"Thou hast said that mine my life is, till the water of that cup

I have drained; then bid thy servants that spilled water gather up!"

For a moment stood the caliph as by doubtful passions stirred;

Then exclaimed, "Forever sacred must remain a monarch's word.

"Bring another cup, and straightway to the noble Persian give:

Drink, I said before, and perish,- -now I bid

thee drink and live!"

Richard Chenevix Trench.

1230. FAITH, Trial of.

Still, still without ceasing,
I feel it increasing,

This fervor of holy desire;

And often exclaim,

Let me die in the flame

Of a love that can never expire!

Had I words to explain

What she must sustain

Who dies to the world and its ways;

How joy and affright, Distress and delight, Alternately chequer her days.

Thou, sweetly severe !

I would make thee appear,

In all thou art pleased to award,
Not more in the sweet,
Than the bitter I meet,
My tender and merciful Lord.

This faith, in the dark
Pursuing its mark,

Through many sharp trials of love;

Is the sorrowful waste
That is to be pass'd

In the way to the Canaan above. Madame Guyon, tr. by William Cowper. 1231. FAITH, Visions of

The child-like faith, that asks not sight, Waits not for wonder or for sign, Believes, because it loves aright,

Shall see things greater, things divine. Heaven to that gaze shall open wide, And brightest angels to and fro

On messages of love shall glide
'Twixt God above and Christ below.
John Keble.

1232. FAITH, Works of.

Faith is a living power from heaven
Which grasps the promise God has given!
A trust that cannot be o'erthrown,
Securely fixed on Christ alone.

Faith finds in Christ whate'er we need
To save and strengthen, guide and feed;
Strong in His grace it joys to share
His cross, in hope His crown to wear.
Faith to the conscience whispers peace,
And bids the mourner's sighing cease;
By faith the children's right we claim,
And call upon our Father's name.

Faith feels the Spirit's kindling breath
In love and hope that conquer death;
Faith brings us to delight in God,
And blesses c'en His smiting rod.

1233. FAITHFULNESS, Angelic.
The seraph Abdiel, faithful found
Among the faithless, faithful only he;
Among innumerable false, unmoved,
Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified,
His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal;
Nor number, nor example with him wrought
To swerve from truth, or change his constant
mind,
[passed,
Though single. From amidst them forth he
Long way through hostile scorn, which he

sustained

Superior, nor of violence feared aught;
And with retorted scorn his back he turned
On those proud towers to swift destruction
doomed.
John Milton.

1234. FAITHFULNESS, Canine.

A barking sound the shepherd hears,
A cry as of a dog or fox;

He halts, and searches with his eyes
Among the scattered rocks;

And now at distance can discern

A stirring in a brake of fern;
And instantly a dog is seen,
Glancing through that covert green.

The dog is not of mountain breed:
Its motions, too, are wild and shy,—
With something, as the shepherd thinks,
Unusual in its cry;

Nor is there any one in sight
All round, in hollow or on height;
Nor shout nor whistle strikes his ear.
What is the creature doing here?

It was a cove, a huge recess,

That keeps, till June, December's snow;
A lofty precipice in front,
A silent tarn below!

Far in the bosom of Helvellyn,
Remote from public road or dwelling,
Pathway, or cultivated land-
From trace of human foot or hand.