Why this backwardness, since exposure is necessary to ensure the avoidance of the evil?  Because people like you better when you tell them their virtues than when you tell them their vices.  It requires the spirit of our blessed Master to tell a man his faults, and so risk human displeasure for the sake of doing right and benefiting our race.  Who is telling mankind of the foe in ambush?  Is the informer one who sees the foe?  If so, listen and be wise.  Escape from evil, and designate those as unfaithful stewards who have seen the danger and yet have given no warning.

At all times and under all circumstances, overcome evil with good.  Know thyself, and God will supply the wisdom and the occasion for a victory over evil.  Clad in the panoply of Love, human hatred cannot reach you.  The cement of a higher humanity will unite all interests in the one divinity.

HYMNS

BY REV.  MARY BAKER EDDY

[Set to the Church Chimes and Sung on This Occasion]

LAYING THE CORNER-STONE

    Laus Deo, it is done! 
    Rolled away from loving heart
      Is a stone. 
    Joyous, risen, we depart
      Having one.

    Laus Deo,—­on this rock
    (Heaven chiselled squarely good)
      Stands His church,—­
    God is Love, and understood
      By His flock.

    Laus Deo, night starlit
    Slumbers not in God’s embrace;
      Then, O man! 
    Like this stone, be in thy place;
      Stand, not sit.

    Cold, silent, stately stone,
    Dirge and song and shoutings low,
      In thy heart
    Dwell serene,—­and sorrow?  No,
      It has none,
      Laus Deo!

“FEED MY SHEEP”

    Shepherd, show me how to go
      O’er the hillside steep,
    How to gather, how to sow,—­
      How to feed Thy sheep;
    I will listen for Thy voice,
      Lest my footsteps stray;
    I will follow and rejoice
      All the rugged way.

    Thou wilt bind the stubborn will,
      Wound the callous breast,
    Make self-righteousness be still,
      Break earth’s stupid rest. 
    Strangers on a barren shore,
      Lab’ring long and lone—­
    We would enter by the door,
      And Thou know’st Thine own.

    So, when day grows dark and cold,
      Tear or triumph harms,
    Lead Thy lambkins to the fold,
      Take them in Thine arms;
    Feed the hungry, heal the heart,
      Till the morning’s beam;
    White as wool, ere they depart—­
      Shepherd, wash them clean.

CHRIST MY REFUGE

    O’er waiting harpstrings of the mind
      There sweeps a strain,
    Low, sad, and sweet, whose measures bind
      The power of pain.