163 LIVE NOT TO YOURSELVES On a frail little stem in the garden hangs the opening rose. Go ask it why it hangs there! "I hang there," says the beautiful flower, "to sweeten the air which man breathes, to open my beauties, to kindle emotion in his eye, to show him the hand of his God who pencilled each leaf, and laid them thus on my bosom. And, whether you find me here to greet him every morning, or whether you find me. on the lone mountain-side, with the bare possibility that he will throw me one passing glance, my end is the same. I live not to myself." Beside yon highway stands an agèd tree, solitary and alone. You see no living thing near it and you say, Surely that must stand for itself alone. "No," says the tree;" God never made me for a purpose so small. For more than a hundred years I have stood here. In summer I have spread out my arms, and sheltered the panting flocks which hastened to my shade; in my bosom I have concealed and protected the brood of young birds, as they lay and rocked in their nests; in the storm I have more than once received in my body the lightning's bolt, which had else destroyed the traveller; the acorns which I have matured from year to year have been carried far and wide, and groves of forest oaks can claim me as their parent. I have lived for the eagle which has perched on my top; for the humming-bird which has paused and refreshed its giddy wings ere it danced away again like a blossom of the air; for the insect that has found a home within the folds of my bark; and, when I can stand no longer, I shall fall by the hand of man, and I will go to strengthen the ship which makes him lord of the ocean, and to his dwelling to warm his hearth and cheer his home. I live not to myself." On yonder mountain-side comes down the silver brook, in the distance resembling a ribbon of silver, running and leaping as it dashes joyously down. Go ask it what it is doing. "I was born," says the brook, "high up in the mountains, but there I could do no good; so I am hurrying down, running where I can and leaping where I must, but hastening down to water the sweet valley, where the thirsty cattle may drink, where the lark may sing on my bank, where I may drive the mill for the accommodation of man, and then widen into the great river, and bear up his steamboats and shipping, and finally plunge into the ocean, to rise again in vapor, and perhaps come back again in the clouds to my own native mountain, and live my short life over again. Not a drop of water comes down my channel in whose bright face you may not read, 'None of us liveth to himself."" Speak now to that solitary star that hangs in the far verge of heaven, and ask it what it is doing there. Its voice comes down the path of light, and cries, "I am a mighty world! I was stationed here at the creation. Aye, I was there 'When the radiant morn of creation broke, And the world in the smile of God awoke, And the empty realms of darkness and death Were moved through their depths by His mighty breath, And orbs of beauty and spheres of flame From the void abyss by myriads came.' "Here, among the morning stars, I hold my place, and help to keep other worlds balanced and in their places. I send my bright beams down to earth, and the sailor takes hold of the helm, and fixes his eye on me, and finds his way home across the ocean. Of all the countless hosts of my sister stars, who walk forth in the great space of creation, not one, not one, lives or shines for himself alone." And thus God has written upon the flower that sweetens the air, upon the breeze that rocks that flower upon its stem, upon the raindrops which swell the mighty river, upon the dew-drop that refreshes the smallest sprig of moss that rears its head in the desert, upon the vast ocean, upon every pencilled shell that sleeps in the caverns of the deep, as well as upon the mighty sun which warms and cheers the millions of creatures that live in its light-upon all hath He written, "None of us liveth for himself." REV. JAMES TODD 164 WE PRAISE THEE, O LORD Round the Lord in glory seated, Filled His temple and repeated "Lord, Thy glory fills the heaven, Earth is with its fulness stored; Unto Thee be glory given, Holy, holy, holy, Lord!" Heaven is still with glory ringing, "Holy, holy, holy," singing, 66 "Lord of Hosts, the Lord Most High. "Lord, Thy glory fills the heaven, Earth is with its fulness stored; Unto Thee be glory given, Holy, holy, holy, Lord!" RICHARD MANT 165 THE PRAYERS OF ALL LIVING The Hen praiseth God, Saying, "Thou hast given me As much intelligence As unto the Cock; Therefore do I praise Thee Unto the end, which fleeth The Raven sayeth: "Who prepareth the Raven his food, When his children cry to God, When their mother casts them out? So He feedeth The young ravens when they cry! The Parrot sayeth: "Praise the Lord with the harp! Praise Him with the ten-stringed nabluim! For God hath gifted me That I can speak His praise. Lo! ye, the other birds Cannot do like unto me!" The bird Tsih sings: "Light is sown unto the holy ones, And joy unto those Who are of upright minds!" |