If there is anything that will endure
The eye of God, because it still is pure,
It is the spirit of a little child.
Fresh from his hand, and therefore undefiled.
a. R. H. Stoddard—The Children's
" Not a child : I call myself a boy," Says my king, with accent stern yet mild:
Now nine years have brought him change of
" Not a child."
6. Swinbubne—Not a Child. St. 1.
But still I dream that somewhere there must
be The spirit of a child that waits for me.
c. Bayard Taylob—The Poet's Journal.
Oh, for boyhood's time of June,
Crowding years in one brief moon,
When all things I heard or saw.
Me, their master, waited for.
d. Whittier— The Barefoot Boy. St. 3.
A simple child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death ?
e. Wordsworth— We Are Seven.
Sweet childish days, that were as long
As twenty days are now.
/. Wordsworth—To a Butterfly.
The child is father of the man.
g. Wordsworth—My Heart Leaps Up.
The booby father craves a booby son,
And by heaven's blessing thinks himself un-
A. Young—Lmc of Fame. Satire II.
Both Regiments or none, t. Samuel Adams—(For the Boston Town Meeting.) To Gov. Hutchinson, demanding the withdrawal of the British troops from Boston after March 5th, 1776.
Be ignorance thy choice where knowledge leads to woe. j. Beattib— The Minstrel. Bk. II.
He that will not when he may,
When he will he shall have nay.
t. Burton—Quoted in Anat. of Mel.
Pt. III. Sect. 2. Mem. 5. Subs. 5.
Better to sink beneath the shock Than moulder piecemeal on the rock! 1. Bybon— The Giaour. L. 969.
What voice did on my spirit fall,
Peschiera, when thy bridge I crost?
'Tis better to have fought and lost
Than never to have fought at all!
m. Arthur Hugh Clough—Peschiera.
Life often presents us with a choice of evils, rather than of goods. n. C. C. Colton—Lacon. P. 362.
The strongest principle of growth lies in human choice. o. George Eliot—Daniel Deronda.
Bk. VI. Ch. XLII.
God offers to every mind its choice between truth and repose. p. Emerson—Essay. Intellect.
Give house-room to the best; 'tis never
Vertue and pleasure both to dwell in one. q. Herbick—Hesperides. Choose for the
More dear is meadow breath than stormy
And when my mind for meditation's meant, The seaweed is preferred to the shore's extent,
The swallow to the main it leaves behind. r. Victor Hugo—The Humble Home.
Where passion leads or prudence points the way. ». Robert Lowth—The Choice of
Rather than be less Car'd not to be at all. t. Milton—Paradise Lost. Bk.II. L.47.
Who would not, finding way, break loose
****** And boldly venture to whatever place Farthest from pain? u. Milton—Paradise Lost. Bk. IV.
Choose always the way that seems the best, however rough it may be. Custom will render it easy and agreeable.
«. Pythagoras—Ethical Sentence* from
I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, Than you should such dishonour undergo. w. Tempest. Act. III. 8c. 1. L. 26.
I will not choose what many men desire, Because I will not jump with common spirits, And rank me with the barbarous multitudes. x. Merchant of Venice. Act II. Sc. 9.
L. 31. 92
Preferment goes by letter and affection, o. Othello. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 36.
Which of them shall I take? Both? one? or neither? Neither can be en-
joy'd, If both remain alive.
b. King Lear. Act V. Sc. 1. L. 57.
" Thy royal will be done—'tis just," Replied the wretch, and kissed the dust;
" Since, my last moments to assuage, Your Majesty's humane decree Has deigned to leave the choice to me,
I'll die, so please you, of old age."
c. Horace Smith—The Jester Condemned
When to elect there is but one,
' Tis Hobson's Choice; take that or none.
d. Thos. Ward—England's Reformation.
Canto IV. L. 896.
Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan, suckled in a creed outworn ;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less for-
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea,
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
e. Wordsworth—Miscellaneous Sonnets.
ft. I. Sonnet XXXIII.
A strange alternative * * *
Must women have a doctor or a dance?
/. Young—Love of Fame. Satire V.
Star unto star speaks light, and world to
Repeats the passage of the universe
To God; the name of Christ—the one great
Well wortli all languages in earth or Heaven.
Lovely was the death Of Him whose life was Love! Holy with
He on the thought-benighted Skeptic beamed
h. Coleridge—Religious Muting*. L. 29.
Hail, 0 bleeding Head and wounded,
With a crown of thorns surrounded,
Buffeted, and bruised and battered,
Smote with reed by striking shattered.
Face with spittle vilely smeared !
Hail, whose visage sweet and comely,
Marred by fouling stains and homely,
Changed as to its blooming color,
All now turned to deathly pallor,
Making heavenly hosts affeared !
t. Abraham Coles—In Literature and
Poetry by Philip Schaff. P. 250.
Translation of Passion Hymn of
St. Bernard nf Clairvaux.
He was the word that spake it,
He took the bread and brake it;
And what that word did make it,
I do believe and take it.
j. Donne—Divine Poems. On the
Sacrament. (In Chalmer's English
In darkness there is no choice. It is light that enables us to see the differences between things ; and it is Christ that gives us light.
k. 3. C. and A. W. Hare— Guesses at
Who did leave His Father's throne,
To assume thy flesh and bone?
Had He life, or had He none ?
If He had not liv'd for thee,
Thou hadst died most wretchedly
And two deaths had been thy fee.
1. Herbert—The Church. Business.
One Name above all glorious names
With its ten thousand tongues
The everlasting sea proclaims,
Echoing angelic songs,
m. Keble—The Christian Year.
Sepluagesima Sunday. St. 9.
All His glory and beauty come from within, and there He delights to dwell, His visits there are frequent. His conversation sweet, His comforts refreshing; and His peace passing all understanding.
n. Thomas X Kempis—Imitation of Christ. Bk. II. Ch. I. Dibdin's trans.
God never gave man a thing to do concerning which it were irreverent to ponder how the Son of God would have done it.
o. George MAcdona Ld— The Marquis of Lassie. Vol. II. Ch. XVII.
The Pilot of the Galilean Lake.
p. Milton—Lycidas. L. 109.
But chiefly Thou, Whom soft-eyed Pity once led down from
To bleed for man, to teach him how to live, And, oh ! still harder lesson 1 how to die g. Bishop Porteus—Death. L. 316.
In those holy fields.
Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were
nail'd For our advantage on the bitter cross.
r. Henry IV. Pt. I. Act I. Sc. 1.
L.24 And so the Word had breath, and wrought
With human hands the creed of creeds
In loveliness of perfectdeeds,
More strong than all poetic thought;
Which he may read that binds the sheaf,
Or builds the house, or digs the grave,
And those wild eyes that watch the waves In roarings round the coral reef.
». Tennyson—In Memoriam. Pt. XXXVI. CHRIST.
Ilia love at once and dread instruct our
As man He suffer'd and as God He taught, a. Edmund Waller—OS Divine Love.
Canto III. L. 41.
Christians have burnt each other, quite
persuaded That all the Apostles would have done as they
did. 6. Bybon—Don Juan. Canto I. 8t 85.
His Christianity was muscular.
c. Benj. Disraeli—Endymitm. Ch. XIV.
A Christian is God Almighty's gentleman.
d, J. C. and A. W. Hake—Queues at
Look in, and see Christ's chosen saint
In triumph wear his ChrisHike chain;
No fear lest he should swerve or faint;
" His life is Christ, his death is gain."
«. Keble— The Christian Year. St. Luke.
Servant of God, well done, well hast thou
The better fight.
/. Milton—Paradise Lost. Bk. VI.
Persons of mean understandings, not so inquisitive, nor so well instructed, are made good Christians, and by reverence and obedience, implicitly believe, and abide by their belief.
g. Montaigne—Essays. Of Vain
Yes,—rather plunge me back in pagan night, And take my chance with Socrates for bliss, Than be the Christian of a faith like this, Which builds on heavenly cant its earthly
And in a convert mourns to lose a prey.
A. Moore—Intolerance. L. 68.
Yet still a sad, good Christian at the heart.
t. Pope— Moral Essay. Ep. II. L. 68.
You are Christians of the best edition, all picked and culled. /. Rabelais— Works. Bk. IV. Ch. L.
A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion,
To pray for them that have done scathe to
t. Richard III. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 316.
For in converting Jews to Christians, you raise the price of pork.
1. Merchant of Venice. Act III. Sc.5.
If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife.
Become a Christian and thy loving wife.
To. Merchant of Venice. Act II. Sc. 3.
I hate him for he is a Christian,
n. Merchant of Venice. Act I. Sc. 3.
It is spoke as Christians ought to speak. o. Merry Wives of Windsor. Act I. Sc. 1.
Methinks sometimes I have no more wit than a Christian or an ordinary man has. p. Twelfth Night. Act I. Sc. 3. L. 88.
My daughter! 0, my ducats! 0, my daughter! Fled with a Christian I 0 my Christian
ducats. q. Merchant of Venice. Act H. Sc. 8.
O father Abram, what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealings teaches them
The thoughts of others.
r. Merchant of Venice. Act I. Sc. 3.
Plant neighborhood and Christian-like accord In their sweet bosoms. s. Henry V. Act 5. Sc. 2. L. 381.
The Hebrew will turn Christian: he grows
kind. t. Merchant of Venice. Act I. Sc. 3.
This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs : if we grow all to be pork-eaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on the coals for money.
v. Merchant of Venice. Act III. Sc. 5.
I thank the goodness and the grace
Which on my birth have smiled,
And made me, in these Christian days
A happy Christian child.
v. Jane Taylor—A Child's Hymn of
Whatever makes men good Christians, makes them good citizens. w Daniel Wkbster—Speech at Plymouth. Dec. 22, 1820. Vol. I. P. 44.
A Christian is Hie highest style of man.
x. Youwo— Night Thoughts. Night IV.
The mistletoe hung in the castle hall, The holly branch shone on the old oak wall. a. Thos. Haynes Bayly—The Mistletoe
No trumpet-blast profaned
The hour in which the Prince of Peace was
born; No bloody streamlet stained
Earth's silver rivers on that sacred morn.
6. Bryant—Christmas in 1875.
For little children everywhere
A joyous season still we make;
We bring our precious gifts to them,
Even for the dear child Jesus' sake.
c. Piikiik Caby—Christinas.
O most illustrious of the days of time!
Day full of joy and benison to earth
When Thou wast born, sweet Babe of
Witli dazzling pomp descending angels sung
Good will and peace to men, to Ciod due praise,
Who on the errand of salvation sent
Thee, Son Beloved ! of plural Unity
Essential part, made flesh that mad'st all
d. Abraham Coles—The Microcosm and
Other Poems. P. 118.
We ring the bells and we raise the strain,
We hang up garlands everywhere
And bid the tapers twinkle fair,
And feast and frolic—and then we go
Back to the same old lives again.
e. Susan Coolidge—Christmas.
How bless'd, how envied, were our life,
Could we but scape the poulterer's knife!
But man, curs'd man, on Turkeys preys,
And Christmas shortens all our days:
Sometimes with oysters we combine,
Sometimes assist the savory chine;
From the low peasant to the lord,
The Turkey smokes on every board.
/. Gay—Fables. Pt. 1. Fable 39.
What babe new born is this that in a manger
Near on her lowly bed his happy mother lies. Oh, see the air is shaken with white and
heavenly wings— This is the Lord of all the earth, this is .the
King of Kings. g. R. W. Gilder—A Christmas Hymn.
Hail to the King of Bethlehem,
Who wearetli in his diadem
The yellow crocus for the gem
Of his authority!
A. Longfellow— Christut. Golden Legend.
I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men 1 t. Longfellow—Christmas Sells. St. 1.
Shepherds at the grange,
Where the Babe was born, Sang with many a change,
Christmas carols until morn.
j. Longfellow—By the Fireside.
A Christmas Carol. St. 3.
Ring out, ye crystal spheres!
Once bless our human ears,
If ye have power to touch our senses so;
And let your silver chime
Move in melodious time,
And let the bass of Heaven's deep organ
And with your ninefold harmony
Make up full consort to the angelic symphony.
k. Milton—Hymn. On the Horning of
Cltrist's Nativity. St. 13.
This is the month, and this the happy morn,
Wherein the Son of Heaven's eternal King,
Of wedded maid and virgin mother born,
Our great redemption from above did bring,
For so the holy sages once did sing,
That He our deadly forfeit should release,
And with His Father work us a perpetual
peace. I. Milton—Hymn. On the Morning of
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all
through the house
Not a creature was stirring,—not even a mouse: The stockings were hung by the chimney with
care, In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be
m. Clement C. Moore—A Visit from St.
God rest ye, little children; let nothing you
affright, For Jesus Christ, your Saviour, was born this
happy night; Along the hills of Galilee the white flocks
sleeping lay, When Christ, the Child of Nazareth, was born
on Christmas day. n. D. M. Mitlock—A Christmas Carol.
It is the Christmas time:
And up and down 'twixt heaven and earth,
In glorious grief and solemn mirth,
The shining angels climb.
o. D. M. Mulock—A Hymn for Christmas
At Christmas-tide the open hand
Scatters its bounty o'er sea and land,
And none are left to grieve alone,
For Love is heaven and claims its own.
a. Maboaret E. Sanqstee—The Christmas
As many mince pies as you taste at Christmas, so many happy months will you have.
b. Old English Saying.
England was merry England, when
Old Christmas brought his sports again.
'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale;
'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
A Christmas gambol oft could cheer
The poor man's heart through half the year.
c. Scott—Marmion. Canto VI.
At Christmas I no more desire a rose, Than wish a snow in May's new-fangled mirth.
d. Love's Labour's Lost. Act. I. Be. 1.
Be merry all, be merry all,
With holly dress the festive hall;
Prepare the song, the feast, the ball,
To welcome merry Christmas.
«. W. R. Spencer—The Joys of Christmas.
The time draws near the birth of Christ:
The moon is hid ; the night is still;
The Christmas bells from hill to hill
Answer each other in the mist.
/. Tennyson—In Memonam.
"With trembling fingers did we weave
The holly round the Christmas hearth;
A rainy cloud possess'd the earth,
And sadly fell our Christmas-eve.
g. Tennyson—In Memoriam. Pt. XXX.
At Christmas play, and make good cheer,
For Christmas comes but once a year.
A. Tusbeb—Five Hundred Points of Good
Husbandry. Ch. XII.
The sun doth shake
Light from his locks, and, all the way
Breathing perfumes, doth spice the day.
». Hknby Vaughan—Christ's Nativity.
Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace; East, west, north, and south let the long
quarrel cease; Sing the song of great joy that the angels
Sing of glory to God and of good-will to man ! j. WurrriEB—A Christmas Carmen.
Oh ! St. Patrick was a gentleman
Who came of decent people;
He built a church in Dublin town,
And on it put a steeple.
k. Henby Bennett—St. Patrick Was a
An instinctive taste teaches men to build their churches in flat countries with spire steeples, which, as they cannot be referred to any other object, point as with silent finger to the sky and stars.
I. Coleridge—The Friend.
" What is a church ?" Let Truth and reason
speak, They would reply, "The faithful, pure and
From Christian folds, the one selected race, Of all professions, and in every place." m. Crabbe—The Borough. Letter II. L.I.
What is a church ?—Our honest sexton tells,
'Tis a tall building, with a tower and bells.
n. Crabbe— The Borough. Letter II.
Whenever God erects a house of prayer
The devil always builds a chapel there;
And 'twill be found, upon examination,
The latter has the largest congregation.
o. Defoe— True Born Englishman.
Pt. I. L.I.
God never had a church but there, men say,
The devil a chapel hath raised by some wiles,
I doubted of this saw, till on a day
I westward spied great Edinburgh's Saint
p. Drummond—Posthumous Poems.
It is common for those that are farthest from God, to boast themselves most of their being near to the Church.
q. Mathew Henry—Commentaries.
And she (the Roman Catholic Church) may still exist in undiminished vigor, when some traveller from New Zealand shall, in the midst of a vast solitude, take his stand on a broken arch of London Bridge to sketch the ruins of St. Paul's.
r. Macaulay—Review of Ranke's History
of the Popes.
No silver saints, by dying misers giv'n,
Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited heav'n :
But such plain roofs as Piety could raise,
And only vocal with the Maker's praise.
J. Pope— Eloisu, to Abelard. L. 137.