And above all these things put on love, which is the bond of perfectness.—Colossians 3:14 (R. V.).
THOU hatest hatred’s withering reign,
In souls that discord maketh dark
Dost Thou rekindle love’s bright spark,
And make them one again.
WE have cause to suspect our religion if it does not make us gentle, and forbearing, and forgiving; if the love of our Lord does not so flood our hearts as to cleanse them of all bitterness, and spite, and wrath. If a man is nursing anger, if he is letting his mind become a nest of foul passions, malice, and hatred, and evil wishing, how dwelleth the love of God in him? HUGH BLACK.
Love me always, boy, whatever I do or leave undone. And—God help me— whatever you do or leave undone, I ‘ll love you. There shall never be a cloud between us for a day, no, sir, not for an hour. We’re imperfect enough, all of us, we needn’t be so bitter; and life is uncertain enough at its safest, we need not waste its opportunities. JULIANA HORATIA EWING.