ight,
Leading him safely, in spite of his blindness,
Guiding him well through the dark to the light.

II.

"All things are ordered,--the least as the greatest;
Motes have their orbits as fixt as a star,--
And thou may'st mark, if humbly thou waitest,
Providence working in all things that are:
Nothing shall fail in its ultimate object,
Good must outwrestle all evil at last;
God is the King, and creation His subject,
And the great future shall ransom the past.

III.

"Ay, and this present,--perplexing, degrading--
None may despise it as futile or worse;
Swift as it flieth, dissolving and fading,
'Tis the wing'd seed of some blessing or curse.
Telescope, microscope,--which hath most wonder?
Infinite great, or as infinite small?
Musical silence, or world-splitting thunder?--
He that made all things inhabits them all.

IV.

"Yea; for this present,--each inch and each second
Hath its own soul in a thought or a word;
Ev'n as I watch, God's finger hath beckon'd,
Ev'n as I wait, God's whisper is heard!
Trifles, some judge them, that finger, that whisper,--
But on such pivots vast issues revolve;
Those are the watchful reminders of Mizpah,
Jazer and Bethel, Life's secret to solve!

V.

"Mizpah,--for carefulness, honour, uprightness;
Jazer,--by penitence, meekness, and faith;
Bethel,--in foretastes of gladness and brightness,--
These are the keynotes to life out of death:
Providence bidding, and prudence obeying,
Thou shalt have peace from beginning to end,--
Thankfully, trustfully, instantly praying,
Walking with God as thy Father and Friend."

12. Apropos to my mention of Mortimer Collins' visit to Albury on
another page, I make this extract from his "Pen Sketches by a Vanished
Hand," vol. i. pp. 167, 168:--

"_A Walk through Surrey._

"At Albury I called upon a poet,--one whom critics love to assail, but
who derides critics and arrides the public. Pleasant indeed is the fine
old house, with emerald lawn and stately trees, wherein he resides. Not
Horace in his Sabine farm, nor Catullus at Tiburs, had a more poetic
retreat than the author of "Proverbial Philosophy" at Albury. But, like
Catullus, the advent of May had set the poet longing for a flight far
away:

"'Jam ver egelidos refert tepores,
Jam coeli furor ae