EXUHKE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA G>}
JOHN HEW NASH LIBRARY
<8> SAN FRANCISCO <$>
PRESENTED TO THE
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA
ROBERT GORDON SPROUL, PRESIDENT.
CECILY, VIRGINIA AND ROSALYN RAY
RAY OIL BURNER COMPANY
A Collection of Quotations
Harmonious and Helpful for Every
Sunday of the Year
JENNIE DAY HAINES
Jt boe* not matter tofmt toe can tfjt* bap
" ^abfaatfj." "ftunbap." or "lorb'i JBap."
Jt matters not tobid) bap of tljt srUrn toe
baQoto "jTirrt-bap" or "^ebentb-bap."
Jt matter^ not at aU tohicb ftours tur beep
from sunst t to sunsr t. or from mibnigtt to
mibnigftt. JJut let ui sabe ttje "ftacreb
_ jg^^p Jobn
PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY
SAN FRANCISCO AND NEW YORK
selections for Sunday 5ym-
phonies are moral rather than re-
ligious; mundane rather than
celestial, their true aim being to emphasize
such precepts as are helpful to the higher
life on earth, for, as it has been well
said, "To grow higher, deeper, wider,
as the years go on, to conquer difficulties,
and acquire more and more power to
feel all one's faculties unfolding, and truth
descending into the soul, this makes
life worth living."
Copyright, 1906, by
PAUL ELDER AND COMPANY
Prelude : My Symphony . .
New Year Messages
The Sun's Day
Heaven Once a Week
The Still Small Voice
Christianity's Noble Words.
Heart versus Brain
The Value of Time
What Is Truth
What Is a Lie
Rcsurgo, I Arise
Death Is Not Death
Motion, Action, Progress. .
Dead Men and Live
How to Make Friends
Mountain-Top Moments. .
The Golden Rule
In the Wrong Hole
iv Our Nation 27
1 Alpha and Omega 28
2 Happiness 29
3 Superfluity 30
4 Two Worlds 31
5 The Human Soul 32
6 Invictus 33
7 Post-Mortem Kindnesses. ... 34
8 Anger 35
9 Sweat of the Brow 36
10 Strength and Courage 37
1 I The World's Mirror 38
12 Life's Mirror 39
1 3 Evil-Speaking 40
14 Golden Silences 41
15 Foot-Path to Peace 42
16 Dead Leaves 43
17 The Simple Life 44
18 Beau Monde 45
19 Contentment 46
20 Thanksgiving 47
21 Charity 48
22 The Quality of Mercy 49
23 Music 50
24 Sweet Bells 51
25 The Spirit of Giving 52
26 L'Envoi : The Golden Carol . v
LIVE content with small means;
to seek elegance rather than
luxury, and refinement rather than
fashion; to be worthy, not respectable;
and wealthy, not rich; to study hard,
think quietly, talk gently, act frankly; to
listen to stars and birds, babes and sages,
with open heart; to bear all cheerfully,
do all bravely, await occasions, hurry
never; in a word, to let the spiritual,
unbidden and unconscious, grow up
through the common, this is to be my
William Henry Charming.
Beautiful is the year in its coming and going most beautiful
and blessed because it is the year of our Lord.
_ Lucy Larcom.
It is thus each year of life comes to us for each day a clean,
white page, and we are artists, whose duty it is to put something
beautiful on the pages one by one; or we are historians, and must
give to the page some record of work or duties or victory to enshrine
and carry away. _ _ phillipj g^
What will it bring, the new year that we start today ?
What will it leave, when quickly it has passed away?
New scenes, new friends, new songs ; these surely it will bring.
Will it leave aught, except a harp with broken string?
W. R. Sellers.
The Jews called it the Sabbath a day of rest Modem
Christians call it the Sun's day, or the day of light, warmth, and
B roWtL - Henry Ward Beecher.
The hush that falls on the fields and village streets on a Sunday
morning seems to announce the presence of the Spirit of God in
some unusual sense. The activities of the world, its strife, its turbu-
lence and passion, have vanished in the holy silence which rests upon
the earth and makes it one vast and sacred place of worship. One
instinctively recalls that beautiful phrase which always brings a vision
of the rest of heaven with it the peace of God.
- Hamilton Wright Mabic.
The Sabbath day ! how well
The Pilgrims loved it, for the peace it brought !
We in the shadow dwell
Of its pavilion, for our shelter wrought.
Why break our holiest spell ?
Why count the good old Sabbath days for naught ?
^ ftraUru (Drue a Ofclcc k
irb &unbap in
Bright shadows of true rest ! some shoots of blisse ;
Heaven once a week:
The next world's gladness prepossest in this ;
A day to seek :
Eternity in time : the steps by which
We climb above all ages : lamps that light
Man through his heap of dark days : and the rich
And full redemption of the whole week's flight!
The pulleys unto headlong man: time's bower;
The narrow way;
Transplanted Paradise: God's walking hourre:
The cool o* the day !
_ Henry Vaughan, 1656.
A Sabbath-day service may serve you an end,
As a step in the ladder to heaven;
But you never will mount very high, my friend,
With but one good round in seven.
John Whiting Storn.
^ antnt >ermon* ^
:f ourtf) &>tmbap in JTanuarp
A divine ought to calculate his sermon as an astrologer does
his almanac, to the meridian of the place and people, where he
lives. rp D
_ 1 om brown.
The minister whose sermons are made up merely of flowers
of rhetoric, sprigs of quotation, sweet fancy, and perfumed common-
places, is consciously or unconsciously posing in the pulpit.
His literary charlotte-russes, sweet froth on a spongy, pulpy base,
never helped a human soul, they give neither strength nor inspira-
tion. If the mind and heart of the preacher were really thrilled
with the greatness and simplicity of religion, he would, week by
week, apply the ringing truths of his faith to the vital problems of
daily living. The test of a strong simple sermon is results, not
the Sunday praise of his auditors, but their bettered lives during the
week. People who pray on their knees on Sunday and prey on
their neighbors on Monday need simplicity in their faith.
- William George Jordan.
;f irgt &unbap tn Jfefcruarp
God gives us more than, were we not overbold, we should
dare ask for, and yet how often (perhaps after saying "Thank
God " so curtly that it is only a form of swearing ) we are suppli-
ants again within the hour ! . .. g.
Two went to pray? O rather say
One went to brag, the other to pray.
One stands up close and treads on high,
Where the other dares not lend his eye;
One nearer to God's altar trod,
The other, to the altar's God.
- Richard Crashaw.
More things are wrought by prayer
Than this world dreams of. Wherefore let thy voice
Rise like a fountain for me night and day.
For what are men better than sheep or goats
That nournish a blind life within the brain,
If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer
Both for themselves and those who call them friends?
For so the whole round earth is every way
Bound by gold chains about the feet of God.
* fceaten *&
&econb &unba|> in Jf ebruarp
Eye hath not seen it, my gentle boy !
Ear hath not heard its deep songs of joy ;
Dreams cannot picture a world so fair
Sorrow and death may not enter there ;
Time doth not breathe on its fadeless bloom,
For beyond the clouds, and beyond the tomb,
It is there, it is there, my child !
- Felicia Dorothea H
A sea before
The Throne is spead ; its pure still glass
Pictures all earth-scenes as they pass.
We, on its shore,
Share, in the bosom of our rest,
God's knowledge, and are blest.
- Cardinal N
And so upon this wise I prayed :
Great Spirit, give to me
A heaven not so large as yours,
But large enough for me.
Cfjtrb ftunbap in Jftbruarp
Whatever Hell may be, we do not believe that it is like the
Hell of Dante, a burning slaughter-house, a torture-chamber of
endless vivisection and worse than inquisitorial horrors invented and
elaborated by demon-priests where souls welter in the crimson
ooze of Phlegethon, or move about like Nero-torches of animated
flame ' - Canon Farrar.
The hell to be endured hereafter, of which theology tells, is
no worse than the hell we make for ourselves in this world by
habitually fashioning our characters the wrong way.
Do not be troubled by Saint Bernard's saying that hell is full
of good intentions and wills. _ Frindf De Sale$
* * * When all the world dissolves,
And every creature shall be purified,
All places shall be Hell which are not Heaven.
jTourtf) gwnbap in Jfrtruarp
Yet still there whispers the small voice within,
Heard through Gain's silence, and o'er Glory's din ;
Whatever creed be taught or land be trod,
Man's conscience is the oracle of God.
- Lord Byron.
Conscience punishes our misdeeds by revealing to us our guilt
and ill desert. It will not permit us to enjoy the love of one whom
we have secretly betrayed. It will not suffer us to take pleasure in
the esteem of our fellows, when we have fallen below the standards
which they cherish. It cannot be put off, or cheated, or bribed.
For it is inside us; it is an aspect of ourselves; and to get away
from it is as impossible as to get away from or around ourselves.
Repentance, confession, and attempted restitution are the only offer-
ings by which offended conscience can be appeased.
-William De Witt Hyde.
When a conscience is of less specific gravity than the moral
element into which it is cast, it cannot remain submerged. The
fortunate owner of such a conscience watches it with satisfaction
when it serenely bobs to the surface; he advertises its superlative
excellence, " Perfectly Pure ! It floats."
Samuel McChord Crothew.
* Cbriattanitp's ^oblt
Jf ir*t gwnbap in jfWarrf)
Christianity possesses the noblest words in the language; its
literature overflows with terms expressive of the greatest and happi-
est moods which can fill the soul of man. Rest, Joy, Peace, Faith,
Love, Light these words occur with such persistency in hymns
and prayers that an observer might think they formed the staple of
Christian experience. But on coming to close quarters with the
actual life of most of us, how surely would he be disenchanted!
I do not think we ourselves are aware how much our religious life
is made up of phrases; how much of what we call Christian ex-
perience is only a dialect of the churches, a mere religious phrase-
ology with almost nothing behind it in what we really feel and know.
When people meet with empty minds, people who live only
for amusement, not for anything serious, how commonplace and
how superficial is the talk! Even when there is talent, culture,
knowledge, if there is not earnestness, it does not go to the root of
things. it is unsatisfactory. _ Jajne8 Freeman
>J< Jleart ber*u* JBram
s>econb jfeuntuip tn
Heart is a word that the Bible is full of. Brain, I believe,
is not mentioned in Scripture. Heart, in the sense in which it is
currently understood, suggests the warm center of human life, or any
other life. When we say of a man that he " has a good deal of
heart" we mean that he is "summery/* When you come near
him it is like getting around to the south side of a house in mid-
winter and letting the sunshine feel of you, and watching the snow
slide off the twigs and the tear-drops swell on the points of pendent
icicles. Brain counts for a good deal more to-day than heart does.
It will win more applause and earn a larger salary.
- Charles H. Parkhurst
Our brains are seventy-year clocks. The angel of life winds
them up at once for all, then closes the cases, and gives the key
into the hand of the angel of resurrection. "Tic-tac, tic-tad" go
the wheels of thought; our will cannot stop them; madness only
makes them go faster. Death alone can break into the case, and,
seizing the ever-swinging pendulum which we call the heart, silence
at last the clicking of the terrible escapement we have carried so
long beneath our aching foreheads.
Oliver Wendell Holmes.
Cfjirb &unbap in Jflartfj
Does the road wind uphill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day's journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.
But is there for the night a resting-place -
A roof for when the slow, dark hours begin?
May not the darkness hide it from my face ?
You cannot miss that inn.
Shall I meet other wayfarers at night
Those who have gone before?
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
They will not keep you standing at that door.
Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Of labour you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
Yea, beds for all who come.
Christina G. Rooctti.
^ QTfje ^alue of Cime
Jf ourtf) &tmbap in
Know the true value of time ; snatch, seize, and enjoy every
moment of it. No idleness, no laziness, no procrastination ; never
put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day.
Earl of Chesterfield.
Alas ! it is not till Time, with reckless hand, has torn out half
the leaves from the book of human life to light the fires of human
passion with, from day to day, that man begins to see that the
leaves which remain are few in number.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
There is no end to the sky,
And the stars are everywhere,
And time is eternity,
And the here is over there ;
For the common deeds of the common day
Are ringing bells in the far-away.
Old Time, in whose banks we deposit our notes,
Is a miser who always wants guineas for groats;
He keeps all his customers still in arrears
By lending them minutes and charging them years.
Oliver Wendell Holmes
^ Hitting ^ime ^
If it is true, as we are told, that " Time is the stuff that life is
made of/* then wasting time is wasting life, and stealing rime is
stealing life, and "killing time'* is a kind of suicide or murder
perhaps both, for an idler very commonly steals another's rime with
which to kill his own. These time- thieves are nearly all out of jail
and are to be found in the " best society.*' I would rather meet a
P ick P cket _ -Jo.iahS.rong.
Perhaps no phrase is so terribly significant as the phrase
" killing time.*' It is a tremendous and poetical image, the image of
a kind of cosmic parricide. There are on the earth a race of
revellers who do, under all their exuberance, fundamentally regard
time as an enemy. _ -Gilbert Keith Cherterton.
Those who do not know how to spend their time profitably,
allow their lives to slip away with much sorrow and little praise.
^ Oaifjat 3s rutfj ^
&unbap in Sprfl
But what is truth? 'Twas Pilate's question put
To Truth itself, that deign'd him no reply.
_ William Cowpcr.
To love truth for truth's sake is the principal part of human
perfection in this world, and the seed-plot of all other virtues.
_ John Locke.
Truth is tough. It will not break, like a bubble, at a touch ;
nay, you may kick it around all day, like a football, and it will be
round and full at evening. _ _ Qliver Wendell
We have oftener than once endeavored to attach some meaning
to that aphorism, vulgarly imputed to Shaftesbury, which, however,
we can find nowhere in his works, that " ridicule is the test of truth."
_ Thomas Carlyle.
This above all to thine own self be true ;
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
feeconb *5>untmt> in lpnl
And, after all, what is a lie? Tis but
The truth in masquerade. _ Lord Byron
Business the world's work is the sale of lies;
Not goods, but trade-marks ; and still more and more
In every branch becomes the sale. _j ohn Daviclson .
And the parson made it his text that week, and he said likewise,
That a lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies ;
That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright
But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.
Sin has many tools, but a lie is the handle which fits them all.
Oliver Wendell Holmes.
^ fcesfurso 5 &rtee
CJjtrb gwitoap tn
Easter, glad feast of life, belongs only to those who are alive
in soul, and heart, and mind. Hearts buried in graves have but
little share in its resurrecting thrill of joy. Love which holds on,
which lives for its own, and makes day a fruitful memorial instead
of a measure of repining, has a foretaste of the immortality it be-
lieves in, through its conquest of death's power to destroy.
"C" (Mrs. James Farley Cox).
Will you take a motto for your spiritual life? It is not an in-
scription for your tombstone: " Resurgam, I shall arise, when
earthly life is over, when the graves unclose." It is a watchword
for your hearts: " Resurgo, I arise, I am delivered, I am quickened,
I begin to live upward, through Christ, for Christ, unto Christ."
- Henry Van Dyke.
God expects from men something more * * for the credit
of their religion as well as the satisfaction of their conscience that
their Easter devotions would in some measure come up to their
* Bratfj 3* /lot Bratfj *
jFourtf) ^unbap in &prtl
I came from God, and I'm going back to God, and I won't
have any gaps of death in the middle of my life.
_ George MacDonald.
Death is not death, then, if it kills no part of us save that
which hindered us from perfect life. Death is not death, if it raises
us from darkness into light, from weakness into strength, from sinful-
ness into holiness. Death is not death, if it brings us nearer to
Christ, who is the fount of life. Death is not death, if it perfects
our faith by sight, and lets us behold Him in whom we have be-
lieved. Death is not death, if it gives to us those whom we have
loved and lost, for whom we have lived, for whom we long to live
again. Death is not death, if it rids us of doubt and fear, of
chance and change, of space and time, and all which space and
time bring forth, and then destroy. Death is not death ; for Christ
has conquered death. _ charlej
^ iWotton, action,
Jf m&t &unfcap in
Man is made to grow, not stop. _ Robert
He who is silent is forgotten ; he who does not advance, falls
back; he who stops is overwhelmed, distanced, crushed; he who
ceases to grow greater, becomes smaller ; he who leaves off, gives up.
Henri Frederic Amiel.
If you stand still, you will be run over. Motion, action,
progress these are the words which now fill the vaults of heaven
with their stirring demands, and make humanity's heart pulsate with
a stronger bound. Advance, or stand aside; do not block up the
way, and hinder the career of others ; there is too much to do now
to allow of inaction anywhere, or in any one. There is something
for all to do; the world is becoming more and more known,
wider in magnitude, closer in interest, more loving and more event-
ful than of old, not in deeds of daring, not in the ensanguined
field, not in chains and terrors, not in blood, and tears, and gloom,
but in the leaping, vivifying, exhilarating impulses of a better birth
of the soul. -Selected.
| fr Brab men anb fctec fr
&>econb &unbap in
Have you ever read Coleridge's " Ancient Mariner" ? I dare
say you have thought it one of the strangest imaginings ever put to-
gether, especially the part where the old mariner represents the
corpses of all the dead men rising up, all of them dead, yet rising
up to manage the ship ; dead men pulling the ropes, dead men steer-
ing, dead men spreading the sails. But, do you know, I have lived
to see that. I have gone into churches, and I have seen a dead
man in the pulpit, and a dead man as a deacon, and a dead man
holding the plate at the door, and dead men sitting to hear.
_ Charles Haddon Spurgeon.
All the masterpieces of literature have been produced by
" live men." They have been, in most cases, elaborated in the
intervals of less congenial toils, in the pauses of dull drudgery,
amidst neglect, anxiety and privation. They that have spread light
through the world had often scarcely oil for the lamp by which
they worked ; they that have left imperishable records of their mind,
had little to support the body, and gave forth the incense in which
their knowledge is embalmed " in self-consuming flames."
CfjirJ) &unbap in fflap
Some one once asked Kingsley what was the secret of his
strong joyous life, and he answered, " I had a friend."
Friendship is to be valued for what is in it, not for what can
be gotten out of it. When two people appreciate each other be-
cause each has found the other convenient to have around, they
are not friends, they are simply acquaintances with a business under-
standing. To seek friendship for its utility is as futile as to seek the
end of a rainbow for its bag of gold. A true friend is always use-
ful in the highest sense; but we should beware of thinking of our
friends as brother-members of a mutual benefit association, with its
periodical demands and threats of suspension for non-payment of
due8 ' - Henry Clay Trumbull.
" Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down
his life for a friend." This high-water mark has often been reached,
men have given themselves to each other, with nothing to gain, with
no self-interest to serve, and with no keeping back of the price.
^ JMoto to iflabe Jf rienb* ^
Jfourtf) &unbap in
To make and keep friends is the great art of life, yet the
easiest and simplest thing in the world. Everybody desires friends ;
though from shyness, or pride which is often the veil of shyness
few are ready to meet us at half-way. But if we learn to ignore
the thin films of diversity in training, station, interest and aim, and
go straight to the heart of our fellow man, we are sure of finding a
cordial response. _ -William DeWitt Hyde.
O friend, my bosom cried,
Through thee alone the sky is arched,
Through thee the rose is red,
All things through thee take nobler form,
And look beyond the earth,
And is the mill-round of our fate,
A sun-path in thy worth!
Me too thy nobleness has taught
To master my despair;
The fountains of my hidden life
Are through thy friendship fair.
Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Hooking Oiptoarb* ^
;f iftf) feunbap in
It is a good thing to believe, it is a good thing to admire. By
continually looking upwards, our minds will themselves grow up-
wards ; and as a man, by indulging in habits of scorn and contempt
for others, is sure to descend to the level of what he despises, so
the opposite habits of admiration and enthusiastic reverence for
excellence impart to ourselves a portion of the qualities we admire.
_ Matthew Arnold.
Might I give counsel to any young man, I would say to him,
try to frequent the company of your betters. In books and in life,
that is the most wholesome society. Learn to admire rightly; the
great pleasure of life is that. Note what great men admire; they
admire great things. Narrow spirits admire basely and worship
meanl y- - William Makepeace Thackeray.
^ mountain-top foment* ^
Jf trat gwnbap in 3Tune
We have our mountain-top moments, when vision is clear and
wide, and it is easy to see straight and to appraise things at their
true value; and the great realities, which are intangible and which
generally we cannot get hold of, now tal^e hold of us, and all that
is best in us becomes alert and strong ; and it seems to us that we
can never again be mastered by a mean motive. And then gradu-
ally and all unconsciously we sink back to the old level, the vision
becomes only a memory, and life is again mere commonplace; our
horizon has contracted ; the realities of life are again the things
which can be weighed and measured, bought and sold, and perhaps
the cry of appetite or passion drowns the " still small voice " and
our lower self has gained the upper hand. _ T . i o
How exalting are the mountains and how humbling! How
lonely and how comforting! How awesome and how kindly!
How relentless and how sympathetic ! Reflecting every mood of
man they add somewhat to his nobler stature and diminish some-
what his ignoble self. _ Ra)ph Connor