The united opinion. [volume] (Bradford, Vt.) 1881-1970, 1892-01-29

? been changed into stoIehouses anC
p Bmithies The residences of poet,
and princes have been turned into
brokers' shops The classic mansion
of Ashland has been cut up into walk
ing sticks. The groves where the
poets said the gods dwelt have beer
carried out for fire wood The muses.
that we used to read about have dis
appeared before the emigrant's ak
and the trapper's gun, and that man
who is waiting for life bewitched OF
wonders will never find it There is
however, a field for endurance and
great achievement, but it is in every
day life. There are Alps to scale,
there are Tablespoons to swim, there
are fires to brave; but they are all
around us now. This is the hardest
kind of martyrdom to bear.
1t took grace to lead Latimer and
Ridley through the fire triumphantly
when their armed enemies and their
friends were looking on; but it re-
| dllll lhOl ctNt INV W DIIIl2 IlGIl
through persecution, when nobody is
looking on. could show you in this
city woman who has had rheuma-
tism for twenty years, who has en-
dmed more suffering and exhausted
more grace than would have made
twenty martyrs pass triumphantly
through the fire. If you are not
faithful in an insignificant position in
life you would not be faithful in a
grand mission. If you cannot stand
the bite of a nudge, how could you
endure the breath of a basilisk2
GOD is GLoRIFEED IN ALL GOOD WORK.
Do not think that any work God
| gives you to do in the world is on too
small scale for you to 90. The
whole universe is not ashamed to
take care of one little flower. ! say:
What are you doing down here in
the grass, you poor little flower? Are
you not afraid nights? You will be
neglected, you will die of thirst, you
will not be fed Poor little fowerT
mo, y says star, I'll watch over it
tonight" No" says a cloud, I'll
give it drink" No, says the sun,
It'll warm it in my bosom Then |
see the pulleys going and the clouds
are drawing water and say, What
are you doing there, O clouds?" And
they reply, I'VE are giving drink to
that flower.
Then the wind rises, and comes
bending down the wheat and sound
ing its psalm through the forest,
and cry, Whittier away on
such swift wing, o wind?'' And it
replies, We are going to cool the
cheek of that flower And then
bow down and say, will God take
care of the grass of the field2" and a
flower at my foot responds, YES; he
clothes the lilies Of the field, and
never yet has forgotten me, a poor
little flower" Oh, when | see the
great heavens bending themselves to
what seems insignificant ministra-
ton, when find out that God does
not forget any blossom of the spring
or. any snowflake of the wipterAE
come to the conclusion that we can
afford to attend to the minute things
in life, and that what we do we
ought to do well, since there is as
much perfection in the construction
of a spiders eye as in the confor1na-
ton of flaming galaxies.
Plato had a fable which I have
now nearly forgotten, but it ran
something like this: He said spirits
of the other world came back to this
world to find a body and find sphere
of work. One spirit came and took
the body of king, and did his work.
Another spirit came and took the
body of poet, and did his work.
After awhile Ulysses came, and he
said, why, all the fine bodies are
taken, and all the grand work is
taken. There is nothing left for
me-" And some one replied, "Ah!
the best one has been left for you"
Ulysses said, What's thatI" And
the reply was, The body of a com
mon man, doing a common work,
and for common reward" A good
fable for the world, and Just as good
a fable for the church. Whether we
eat OF drink, or whatsoever we do,
let us do it to the glory of God.
Again, we need to bring the reli-
gion of Christ into our commonest
trials For severe losses, for bereave-
ment, for trouble that shocks like an
and that blasts like a
storm we prescribe religious consola-
ton; but, business man, for the small
of last week how much
Of the grace of God did you applyl I
''Oh, you say, these trials are too ,
small for such application" My
brother, they are shaping your char '
acter, they are souring your temper,
they are wearing out your patience !
and they are making you less and l
less of a man. I
go into sculptor's studio and I
him ho e,@o r