APRIL TWELFTH

Edward Young died 1765.

Edward Bird born 1772.

Henry Clay born 1777.

    I would rather be right than be President.

    —­Henry Clay.

    Who does the best his circumstances allow
    Does well, acts nobly; angels could no more.

    —­Edward Young.

Pedigree haz no more to do in making a man aktually grater than he iz than a pekok’s feather in his hat haz in making him aktually taller.  When the world stands in need of an arestokrat, natur pitches one into it, and furnishes him papers without enny flaw in them.

    —­Josh Billings.

    Cast not away therefore your boldness, which hath great recompense
    of reward.  For ye have need of patience, that, having done the will
    of God, ye may receive the promise.

    —­Hebrews 10. 35, 36.

Lord God, help me to select with care the site, the plans, and the foundation of my life.  May I use the best material; and may it be worthy of a permanent home.  Amen.

APRIL THIRTEENTH

Madame Jeanne Guyon born 1648.

Dr. Thomas Beddoes born 1760.

James Harper born 1795.

    If there were dreams to sell,
    Merry and sad to tell,
    And the crier rang the bell,
      What would you buy?

    A cottage lone and still
      With bowers nigh,
    Shadowy, my woes to still,
      Until I die. 
    Such pearl from Life’s fresh crown
    Fain would I shake me down,
    Were dreams to have at will
    This would best heal my ill,
      This would I buy.

    —­Thomas Lovell Beddoes.

    I pray you, bear me hence From forth the noise and rumor of the
    field Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts In peace, and
    part this body and my soul With contemplation and devout desires.

    —­William Shakespeare.

    Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest awhile.

    —­Mark 6. 31.

Lord God, help me to bear in mind that to step aside and safeguard the mind in contemplation is a safe guard to the soul.  Amen.

APRIL FOURTEENTH

Dr. George Gregory born 1754.

George Frederic Handel died 1759.

Horace Bushnell born 1802.

    Flower in the crannied wall,
    I pluck you out of the crannies—­
    Hold you here, root and all, in my hand,
    Little flower—­but if I could understand
    What you are, root and all, and all in all,
    I should know what God and man is.

    —­Alfred Tennyson.

    So much is history stranger than fiction, and so true it is Nature
    has caprices which Art dares not imitate.