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presence of nature and not be cured of vanity and conceit. When we see how gently and patiently she effaces or beautifies all traces of convulsions, agonies, defeats, and
enmities, we feel that we are able to overcome hate and 5 envy and all ignoble passions.
Since life is great, nay, of inestimable value, no opportunity by which it may be improved can be small. Higher things remain to be done than have yet been accomplished.
God and His universe still wait on each individual soul, 10 offering opportunity. In the midst of the humble and in
evitable realities of daily life each one must seek out for himself the way to better worlds. Our power, our worth, will be proportionate to the industry and perseverance with
which we make right use of the ever-recurring minor occa15 sions, whether for becoming or for doing good. Opportu
nity is not wanting — there is place and means for all — but we lack will, we lack faith, hope and desire, we lack watchfulness, meditation, and earnest striving, we lack aim and purpose.
Do we imagine that it is not possible to lead a high life in a lowly room? That one may not be a hero, sage, or saint in a factory or a coal-pit, at the handle of a plow or the throttle of the engine? We are all in the center
of the same world and whatever happens to us is great, if 25 there be greatness in us. The disbelievers in opportunity
are voluble with excuses. They cannot; they have no leisure; they have not the means. But they can if they will; leisure to improve one's self is never wanting, and they
who seek find the means. There is always opportunity to 30 do right, though he who does it stand alone, like Abdiel,
Among innumerable false, unmoved,
HELPS FOR STUDY
Where do we get the word “opportunity”?
In what way can evils, such as poverty, neglect, and suffering, be opportunities for good?
226: 9 Ouida. The pen name of Louise De la Ramée (1840– 1909), an English writer.
228: 6 Thermopylæ. A famous pass in Greece, leading from Thessaly into Locris. It is celebrated as the scene of the heroic death of Leonidas, King of Sparta, and his three hundred Spartans, when they attempted to prevent the invasion of the Persians 480 B. C.
228: 6 Homer. The celebrated Greek poet, author of the Iliad and the Odyssey. 228:6 Demosthenes. The greatest of Greek orators.
The tyrant he denounced was Philip of Macedon.
228:8 Galileo. (1564-1642). A famous Italian astronomer, to whom we are indebted for much of the information regarding the heavenly bodies. He invented the telescope, and discovered the use of the pendulum in measuring time.
229: 30 Abdiel. A seraph in Milton's “Paradise Lost.” He was the only seraph who remained loyal when Satan stirred up the angels to revolt.
He, the young and strong, who cherished
Noble longings for the strife,
Weary with the march of life!
They, the holy ones and weakly,
Who the cross of suffering bore,
Spake with us on earth no more!
And with them the Being Beauteous,
Who unto my youth was given, More than all things else to love me,
And is now a saint in heaven.
What is meant by “When the hours of Day are numbered”?
SPARTACUS TO THE GLADIATORS
Elijah Kellogg, a Congregational minister, was born in Portland, Maine, in 1813. He was the author of several series of books for young folks, among them the following: "The Whispering Pine" Series, “Elm Island” Series, and “Pleasant Cove" Series.
It had been a day of triumph in Capua. Lentulus, returning with victorious eagles, had amused the populace with the sports of the amphitheatre to an extent hitherto
unknown even in that luxurious city. The shouts of revelry 5 had died away; the roar of the lion had ceased; the last
loiterer had retired from the banquet, and the lights in the palace of the victor were extinguished. The moon, piercing the tissue of fleecy clouds, silvered the dewdrop on the
corselet of the Roman sentinel, and tipped the dark waters 10 of Volturnus with wavy, tremulous light. It was a night
of holy calm, when the zephyr sways the young spring leaves, and whispers among the hollow reeds its dreamy music. No sound was heard, but the last sob of some weary
wave, telling its story to the smooth pebbles of the beach, 15 and then all was still as the breast when the spirit has departed.
In the deep recesses of the amphitheatre a band of gladiators were crowded together their muscles still knotted
with the agony of conflict, the foam upon their lips, and the 20 scowl of battle yet lingering upon their brows — when Spar
tacus, rising in the midst of that grim assemblage, thus addressed them:
“Ye call me chief, and ye do well to call him chief who,