There Is No Slave Out

Men Do Not Avail Themselves Of The Riches Of God's Grace. They Love To Nurse Their Cares, And Seem As Uneasy Without Some Fret As An Old Friar Would Be Without His Hair Girdle. They Are Commanded To Cast Their Cares Upon The Lord, But Even When They Attempt It, They Do Not Fail To Catch Them Up Again, And Think It Meritorious To Walk Burdened.

Before Men We Stand As Opaque Bee-hives. They Can See The Thoughts Go In And Out Of Us; But What Work They Do Inside Of A Man They Cannot Tell. Before God We Are As Glass Bee-hives, And All That Our Thoughts Are Doing Within Us He Perfectly Sees And Understands.

Like Waves, Our Feelings May Continue By Repeating Themselves, By Intermittent Rushes; But No Emotion Any More Than A Wave Can Long Retain Its Own Individual Form.

May We Feel After Thee; Still Calling Out In The Darkness, As Children Waking In The Night Call "father," So May We Call Out For God; And, At Times, Even If We Do Not Hear Thy Voice, May There Be The Form Of A Hand Resting Upon Us, And That Shall Be Enough; For We Shall Take Hold Of It, Though It Be In The Dark, And It Shall Guide Us To The Growing Light; For The Day Shall Come, And The Release And Triumph.

A Helping Word To One In Trouble Is Often Like A Switch On A Railroad Track-an Inch Between Wreck And Smooth-rolling Prosperity.