[026]

Friday. Third Week in Advent.

Right judgment.

Give therejore thy servant an understanding heart that I may discern between good and bad.--1 Kings iii. 9.

They do but grope in learning's pedant round,
   Who on the fantasies of sense bestow
   An idol substance, bidding us bow low
Before those shades of being which are found
Stirring or still, on man's brief trial-ground;--
   As if such shapes and moods, which come and go,
   Had aught of Truth or Life in their poor show,
To sway or judge, and skill to sane or wound!
   Son of immortal seed! high-destined Man!
Know thy dread gift--a creature, yet a cause:
Each mind is its own centre, and it draws
   Home to itself, and moulds in its thought's span
All outward things, the vassals of its will,
Aided by Heaven, by earth unthwarted still.
Newman.

          Let such men rest
Content with what they judged the best;
Let the unjust usurp at will;
The filthy shall be filthy still:
Miser, there waits the gold for thee!
Hater, indulge thine enmity!
Browning.

          Fair Judgment,
Without the which we are pictures or mere beasts.
Shakespeare.

And shall we then be restless in the search
For other proofs anf witnesses of God,
Before our hearts have rested on the One
He gave us in our very flesh to know?
Impatient for the noon-day, shall we miss
The sunrise we shall never see again?
H. Hamilton King.

If we would judge ourselves we should not be judged.
1 Cor. xi. 31.

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[027]

The Fourth Week In Advent.

"The Way Of Joy"

"Rejoice greatly! . . .Behold, thy king cometh unto thee!"

A Prayer for the Week:

   Lord! ev'n as thou all-present art,
   Oh! may we still with heedful heart
     Thy presence know and find!
   Then come what will of weal or woe,
   Joy's bosom-spring shall steady flow;
   For though 'tis Heaven Thyself to see,
Where but Thy Shadow falls, grief cannot be!

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[028]

Saturday. Fourth Week in Advent.

The Way of Joy.

Your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you.--John xvi. 22.

Am I wrong to be always so happy? This world is full of grief;
Yet there is laughter of sunshine, to see the crisp green in the leaf.
Day light is ringing with song-birds, and brooklets are crooning by night,
And why should I make a shadow where God makes all so bright?
Earth may be wicked and weary, yet cannot I help being glad;
There is sundhine without and within me, and how should I mope or be sad?
God would not flood me with blessings, meaning me only to pine
Amid all the bounties and beauties He pours upon me and mine;
Therefore will I be grateful, and therefore will I rejoice;
My heart is singing within me! sing on, O heart and voice!
Walter Smith.

          Every joy is gain,
And gain is gain however small.
Browning.

And if, in thy life on earth,
In the chamber, or by the hearth,
Mid the crowded city's tide,
Or high on the lone hill-side,
Thou canst cause a thought of peace,
Or an aching thought to cease,
Or a gleam of joy to burst
On a soul in gladness nurst;
Spare not thy hand, my child;
Though the gladdened should never know
The well-spring amid the wild
Whence the waters of blessing flow.
George MacDonald.

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