The very gates of Heaven are built on faith.
He would not see high Heaven, though Heaven were near,
Who had not Faith: and with it, Heaven is here.
The mind evolves its own. Seek the True and you will find it; or the False, it lies beneath your touch. Have faith and ye can do all things.
Faith, day by day, is transforming the weak into the strong, the helpless into the helpful, the false into the true, the limited into the limitless. In times of old it worked miracles. It works them now.
There is no greater power than this Faith, which inspired those, who, under her spell, wrote words which will live to spiritualize and to regenerate the hearts and minds of men, until the world rolls, a cold, black, feeble mass in space.
No limit exists to time, or space, or thought; neither is there a limit to the works of Faith. For Faith, in very truth, can move mountains, and gain us entry into the fair country beyond. We are not the chance creatures of an hour, the "magic shadow shapes that come and go;" we are a something higher than we yet know, and if we are true to the royal part of our natures we will mount, moment by moment, towards the rosy tipped peak to which the finger of God points.
Live now or never.
Make of your foes, a footstool; of enemies, poverty, ill-health, calamity, moonbeams to light you on your way. Neither scorn nor defeat shall hinder, for Faith has the eagle eye, which, piercing the gloom of the future, lights upon the glories to be, seeing not the obstacles attendant; to such she is blind. She sees only the loved thing beyond, and pulverizes all things that might hinder her progress.
The nobler aspect of psychic and spiritual life is gradually but firmly creeping to the foreground. Christ, the fore-runner, pointed to the divinity of man, and taught that, by evolution following evolution, man came to be illimitable a divine. Microscopic man is the germ of almighty man.
Let us make our own lives and not be the sports of chance. The mariner guides his ship with courage, skill, and enduring trust, through the black billows, dense mists, and roaring tempests, safely into the harbor at last.
We, too, have power to plan out our own course through life, and to pursue it, moulding circumstances and environment to our will.
With a heart for any fate,
Skill achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
We, by meditation and action, may become all which we aspire to be, and render ourselves invulnerable, like Achilles of old.
The physicians granted to us in our week and helpless moments are many, and of these the most powerful come from the natural world.
Overhead, a dense, solid mass of intense blue, with a clinging flakelet of pink, filmy cloud—the lacy covering of a sky-maid; a thread of liquid silver, leaping softly down the hillside, singing as it goes; the leaves of silver birch tree turning their pale faces to the caressing breeze; the waves mounting and curling about each other in their eagerness and fullness of life; the great mountains towering aloft into the heaven—are not these the teachers (i.e. the healers) of the human race. For, at times, the human touch is too insensitive to heal, and only probes the wound; but Nature, in her infinite sympathy, knows how to touch and to heal those who trust her.
The heart that loved her.
In times of great mental and spiritual distress, when the whole future looks black, and the world seems a prison-house, we must wait until we get a grip of our souls, and soon the Angel of Faith will move towards us to heal and strengthen until the sickness of soul vanishes, and once again we are strong to do, to dare, and to accomplish. Such supine moments must come to us all at times, but they must also go, to leave us as before, free and unfettered.
Wind we up the heights.
To the faithful none of the glories of the spiritual world shall be withheld. Lands do not charm, nor pleasures please, nor gold caress; material things pall, but the growth of the beauties of the inner soul gives to us always that true peace and happiness which the world cannot give, but can often take away for a time, though it can never dispossess us.
Which thus enchains us to permitted ill.
We might be otherwise we might be all
We dream of—happy, high, majestical.
Where is the beauty, love, and truth we seek,
But in our minds? And if we were not weak,
Should we be less in deed than in desire?
—Percy Bysshe Shelley
Radiant flow'rs are smiling,
Rosy buds are bursting,
Glad thoughts are trysting
God. Good is all.
Joy doth befall
All men, be they great or small.
—Augusta T. Webster