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Nature may draw tears, but grace must dry them. Grace and glory are one and the same thing, in a different print, in a smaller and greater letter. Glory lies couched and compacted in grace as the beauty of a flower lies couched and ellipsed in the seed.

The growth of a believer is not like a mushroom, but like an oak, which increases slowly indeed but surely. Many suns, showers, and frosts pass upon it before it comes to perfection; and though in winter it seems dead, it is gathering strength at the root.

There is nothing so effectual to obtain grace, to retain grace, and to regain grace, as always to be found before God, not overwise, but to fear. Happy art thou, if thy heart be replenished with three fears: a fear for received grace, a greater fear for lost grace, a greatest fear to recover grace.

The kingdom of grace is the kingdom of glory in commencement; and the kingdom of glory is the kingdom of grace in full, yet ever-growing perfection.

Grace may be shaken in the soul; but it cannot be shaken out of the soul. It may be a bruised reed, but shall never be a broken reed.

The grandest operations both in nature and in grace are the most silent and imperceptible. The shallow brook babbles in its passage, and is heard by every one, but the coming on of the seasons is silent and unseen. The storm rages and alarms, but its fury is soon exhausted, and its effects are partial and soon remedied; but the dew, though gentle and unheard, is immense in quantity and the very life of large portions of the earth. And these are pictures of the operations of grace in the Church and in the soul.

It is most certain that there is a chain of graces linked together, and they who have one have all in some good measure. They who have a lively hope have a fervent love to God: and they who love God love their neighbours, and they who hate sin sorrow for it; and they who sorrow for sin will avoid the occasion of it; and they that are thus watchful will pray fervently; and they who pray will meditate; and they who pray and meditate at home will join seriously in the public worship of God. Thus graces are combined, and holy duties linked together; and no grace is alone.

Lord, give me grace: give more and more;
And let me to Thy glory live;

And teach, oh, teach me to adore

The Love which grace to man can give!

Gratitude.

THE grateful man seeks to know the will of God, that he may do it from his heart. In the gift of his substance, as in other things, he recognizes God's expressed pleasure, and that which to the covetous is a reluctant act, gratitude makes delightful and love makes easy to the servant of the Lord.

Sweet music's melting fall (is sweet), but sweeter yet
The still small voice of gratitude.

Gratitude is a temper of mind which denotes a desire of acknowledging the receipt of a benefit-not a lively sense of favours to come.

I can no other answer make, but thanks,

And thanks, and ever thanks; often good turns
Are shuffled off with such uncurrent pay;

But were my worth as in my conscience firm,
You should find better dealing.

Whenever I find a great deal of gratitude in a poor man I take it for granted there would be as much generosity if he were a rich man.

Gratitude is a virtue disposing the mind to an inward sense and an outward acknowledgment of a benefit received, together with a readiness to return the same, or the like, as occasions of the doer of it shall require, and the abilities of the receiver extend to.

He who receives a good turn should never forget it; he who does one should never remember it.

O call not to mind what you have done!

It sets a debt of that account before me,

Which shows me poor and bankrupt ev'n in hopes.

There is a selfishness even in gratitude when it is too profuse; to be over-thankful for one favour is in effect to lay out for another.

What causes such a miscalculation in the amount of gratitude which men expect for the favours they have done, is that the pride of the giver and that of the receiver can never agree as to the value of the benefit.

There is a certain lively gratitude which not only acquits us

of the obligations we have received, but by paying what we owe them makes our friends indebted to us.

It is a species of agreeable servitude to be under an obligation to those we esteem.

Seneca says: "Let him who has done another a kindness say nothing about it; let him who has received one proclaim it. As gratitude is a necessary and a glorious, so also it is an obvious, a cheap, and an easy virtue; so obvious that wherever there is life there is place for it; so cheap that the covetous man may be gratified without expense; and so easy that the sluggard may be so likewise without labour."

Epicurus says: "Gratitude has commonly profit annexed to it. And where is the virtue that has not? But still the virtue is to be valued for itself, and not for the profit that attends it."

If he had felt less he would have said more. Thankfulness® is the beginning of gratitude; gratitude is the completion of thankfulness.

The gratitude of place-expectants is a lively sense of future favours.

A grateful mind is a great mind.

A grateful mind

By owing owes not, but still pays, at once
Indebted and discharged.

"Let the man," says Seneca, "who would be grateful think of repaying a kindness, even while receiving it."

He that has nature in him must be grateful;
'Tis the Creator's primary great law,

That links the chain of beings to each other,
Joining the greater to the lesser nature,

Tying the weak and strong, the poor and powerful,
Subduing men to brutes, and even brutes to men.

Almost every one takes a pleasure in requiting trifling obligations; many people are grateful for moderate ones, but there is scarcely any one who does not show ingratitude for great ones.

I've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds

With coldness still returning;

Alas! the gratitude of men

Hath oftener left me mourning.

Grave.

"THERE the wicked cease from troubling; and there the weary be at rest.

"There the prisoners rest together; they hear not the voice of the oppresser.

"The small and great are there; and the servant is free from his master."-JOB iii. 17-19.

Here o'er the martyr King (Henry VI.) the marble weeps,
And fast beside him once-feared Edward (IV.) sleeps.

The grave unites; where e'en the great find rest,
And mingled lie th' oppressor and th' opprest.

The poor man's grave! this is the spot
Where rests his weary clay;

And yet no gravestone lifts its head

To say what gravestones say.

There is an elegance and a classical simplicity in the turf-clad heap of mould which covers the poor man's grave. The primrose that grows upon it is a better ornament than the gilded lies on the oppressor's tombstone.

The beggar and the king
With equal steps tread forward to their end.

The reconciling grave

Swallows distinction first, that made us foes;
Then all lie down in peace together.

The grave extinguishes every resentment. From its peaceful bosom spring none but fond regrets and tender recollections. Who can look down upon the grave of an enemy and not feel a compunctious throb that he should have warred with the poor handful of dust that lies mouldering before him?

What is the grave?

'Tis a cool, shady harbour, where the Christian,
Wayworn and weary, with life's rugged road,
Forgetting all life's sorrows, joys, and pains,
Lays his poor body down to rest.

The place of burial is called in the Greek, Koimētērion, a sleeping-place, and in the Hebrew, Beth-kaiaim, the house of the living.

The first purchase mentioned in the Bible is the purchase of a grave—the field and cave of Machpelah.

They were wont once a year to meet at the graves of the martyrs; there solemnly to recite their sufferings and triumphs; to praise their virtues; to bless God for their pious examples, for their holy lives and their happy death.

The sensations of pious cheerfulness which attend the celebration of the Sabbath Day in rural places are profitably chastised by the sight of the graves of kindred and friends gathered together in that general home towards which the thoughtful yet happy spectators themselves are journeying.

Cease, ye mourners, cease to languish,
O'er the graves of those you love;
Pain and death, and night and anguish,
Enter not the world above.

God buries His workmen, but carries on His work.
The sweet remembrance of the just

Shall blossom when he sleeps in dust.

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The evil that men do lives after them;

The good is oft interred with their bones.

All men are equal on the turf, and under the turf.

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power,
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave,
Await alike th' inevitable hour,-

The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

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Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

Nor you, ye proud, impute the fault

If memory o'er their graves no trophies raise.

Emigravit is the inscription on the tombstone where he lies. Thou art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee, Though sorrow and darkness encompass the tomb.

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Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave!
"My flesh shall rest in hope."

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