Pray that He may prosper ever
     Each endeavour
       When thine aim is good and true;
     But that He may ever thwart thee,
     And convert thee,
       When thou evil wouldst pursue.

     Think that He thy ways beholdeth—­
     He unfoldeth
       Every fault that lurks within;
     Every stain of shame gloss’d over
     Can discover,
       And discern each deed of sin.

     Fetter’d to the fleeting hours,
     All our powers,
       Vain and brief, are borne away;
     Time, my soul, thy ship is steering,
     Onward veering,
       To the gulph of death a prey.

     May’st thou then on life’s last morrow,
     Free from sorrow,
       Pass away in slumber sweet;
     And released from death’s dark sadness,
     Rise in gladness,
       That far brighter Sun to greet.

     Only God’s free gifts abuse not,
     His light refuse not,
       But still His Spirit’s voice obey;
     Soon shall joy thy brow be wreathing,
     Splendour breathing
       Fairer than the fairest day.

     If aught of care this morn oppress thee,
     To Him address thee,
       Who, like the sun, is good to all: 
     He gilds the mountain tops, the while
     His gracious smile
       Will on the humblest valley fall.

     Round the gifts His bounty show’rs,
     Walls and tow’rs
       Girt with flames thy God shall rear: 
     Angel legions to defend thee
     Shall attend thee,
       Hosts whom Satan’s self shall fear.

* * * * *

NOTE C. P. 122.

“But, once admit a single exception, and the infallible virtue of the rule ceases.”—­Thus the famous Canon of Vincentius Lirinensis is like tradition itself, always either superfluous or insufficient.  Taken literally, it is true and worthless;—­because what all have asserted, always, and in all places, supposing of course that the means of judging were in their power, may be assumed to be some indisputable axiom, such as never will be disputed any more than it has been disputed hitherto.  But take it with any allowance, and then it is of no use in settling a question:  for what most men have asserted, most commonly, and in most places, has a certain a priori probability, it is true, but by no means such as may not be outweighed by probabilities on the other side; for the extreme improbability consists not in the prevalence of error amongst millions, or for centuries, or over whole continents,—­but in its being absolutely universal, so universal, that truth could not find a single witness at any time or in any country.  But the single witness is enough to “justify the ways of God,” and reduces what otherwise would have been a monstrous triumph of evil to the character of a severe trial of our faith, severe indeed as the trials of an evil world will be, but no more than a trial such as, with God’s grace, may be overcome.