New York State History

HELP FOR DAILY LIVING.

Our need of God's help for the meeting of the petty vexations and the minor trials of our every-day life is as real as it is for the supremest struggles of our being in the final conflict with the arch-enemy of our souls. And as to the relative measures of God's power requisite for our aiding, who shall say what is much or what is little for God to do? God is as ready to aid us in one time of need as in another. We can depend upon Him alike when to us our requirements seem great or even small. He who will help us in our dying will help us blossoms of goodness that have survived the wreck of Paradise. There never was a heart but had gleams of it. Shining at times in some royal natures diffusive as the light of day without clouds, there is yet no life so dark and clouded but it sends a golden shaft through some opening rift. To be greathearted, for the love we bear to our Master, and in imitation of Him, is the ideal of Christianity, for it is the religion of Him whose life and death were self-sacrifice. If we are to follow, we must, like Him, bear a cross.

It has been so from the beginning. Call the dead-roll of the world's worthies-its prophets, apostles, martyrs and saints, the greatest teachers of mankind, the architects of our liberties, the heroes of civilization, the ministering angels who have blessed the poor, the sick, the dying, the helpless. Has not the measure of their goodness been that of self-denial? They have suffered that others might suffer less; they have died for the truth that others might live; they have defended human rights by enduring unspeakable wrongs, the tears, and blood. Love, like the fabled bird, pierces its own bosom to feed its loved ones. Is not heaven itself to be reached through death? The blessed One entered not into His glory until He had been crucified. The leaders of mankind have had to tread a blackened and scorched path of suffering. White robes of earthly saintship, like those of heaven, are only gained through much tribulation. Everything good costs self-denial.

When we are parted, let me lie
in some fond corner of thy heart,
Alone, and from the world apart,
Like a forgotten melody,
Forgot by all the world beside,
Cherished by one, and one alone,
For Borne loved memory of its own,
To let me in thy heart abide.

When we are parted, keep for me
The sacred stillness of the night,
My spirit shall commune with thine;
Let others claim thy day of thee.
Though parted now by cruel fate,
My spirit shall commune with thine,
When stars upon thy pillow shine,
At they heart's door I stand and wait.

If you know anyone ill-and be sure to always keep some of the great invalid tribe on your list-make them calls when you have on your prettiest things. If to dainty gowns and furbelows are added the freshness and vivacity of youth-divine gifts held only for a brief, brief time-what life and cheer may be carried to the weary, suffering ones of earth! And according to the beautiful law of compensation, when we do most for others, we are unconsciously doing the most for ourselves. It is the little things of life that count in the long run, anyway-the world of sympathy spoken, just as the right time, to the sorrowing, the word of encouragement to the discouraged one who feels that there is no use trying to fight the battles of life any longer. Cultivate sympathy; in other words, not only head, but heart.

Mr. Fussy (rearranging the things in the parlor)-You have wretchedly poor taste, my dear.

Mrs. Fussy (resignedly)- That's what everybody said when I married you, Henry.

First Boy-I've got to take a lickin" when I get home to-night.

Second Boy-Father or mother?

First Boy-Mother.

Second Boy-Oh, well, that won't amount to much!"