men. Salvation is a gift. Once a bitter orange, growth and culture only increases the size and flavor of the bitter orange. The husbandman grafts, as a free gift, the new sweet fruit into the old root. Every tree in the modern orchard represents a twig cut from a tested apple, and grafted into the wild root. Education, the passing years, simply increase the size of the selfish man, the avaricious man, the pleasure-loving man, but the new impulse is an exotic from heaven, grafted into life. Not growth, but grace saves us. (Text.)—N. D. Hillis.
(1286)
GRACE, PERSEVERING
Polycrates, a prosperous prince of the
Egean shore long centuries ago, to ward
off misfortune, caused a very valuable signet
ring which he kept among his treasures, set
in gold and of exquisite workmanship, to be
carried far out to sea in a fifty-oared galley
fully manned, and cast overboard. He saw
it sink, to rise, as he supposed, no more. A
few days afterward a fisherman plying his
profession on that coast, caught a fish of extraordinary
size and beauty, and took it to
Polycrates, who was amazed to discover, on
opening the fish, his own precious ring.
It is just as hard to lose divine grace
and love which we are so apt to throw
away, but which persists in returning
to us.
(1287)
GRACE SUFFICIENT
An eccentric divine preaching from "I
will run in the way of thy commandments
when thou shalt enlarge my heart," began,
"Well, David, what is your first remark?
'I will run.' Run away, David! What hinders
you? What is your next word? 'In
the way of thy commandments.' Better yet,
David. And what next? 'When thou shalt
enlarge my heart.' No thanks to you,
David. We could all run as well as you
with such help."
(1288)
GRACIOUSNESS IN WOMEN
Some club women interested in civic reform
were gathered in the office of a city
executive waiting for an interview. They
were charming, clever women, well drest,
and at ease in any surroundings. As they
waited they chatted of various things, and
one told that her little son had been quite
badly burned a few days before. The others
spoke sympathetically. On the opposite side
of the office sat a poor, battered wreck of
womanhood, there on an errand widely different
from theirs.
"The next time your little boy gets burned you put linseed-oil and lime-water on it. You ought to keep it handy. There ain't nothing like it to take out the fire," said the poor creature.
It was her assertion of sisterhood in the common trials of humanity.
Most of the women froze instantly, indignant that she had dared address them in a familiar way. But the one faced her frankly. "Yes," she said, "that is good. It is just what the doctor told me to use. It is kind of you to tell me about it."
There was no familiarity in her manner, nor was there a hint of superiority. She, too, recognized the universal sisterhood, and spoke to the woman across from her on that level.
She was one of the women who always do the gracious thing because of an abiding grace within. There are too many women who appear charming in their own circle, but who must snub those they consider inferior. Manners at their best are but a poor substitute for the real graciousness that comes from the heart that has kindly thoughts for all.—The Housekeeper.
(1289)
Gradualness of Evil—See Destructiveness.
Graft Rebuked—See Character Not
Purchasable.
GRAIN
The burning pen of inspiration, ranging
heaven and earth for a similitude, to convey
to our poor minds some not inadequate
idea of the mighty doctrine of the resurrection,
can find no symbol so expressive as
"bare grain, it may chance of wheat or some
other grain." To-day a senseless plant, to-*morrow
it is human bone and muscle, vein
and artery, sinew and nerve; beating pulse,
heaving lungs, toiling, ah, sometimes overtoiling
brain. Last June, it sucked from the
cold breast of the earth the watery nourishment
of its distending sap-vessels; and now
it clothes the manly form with warm, cordial
flesh; quivers and thrills with the five-*fold
mystery of sense; purveys and administers
to the higher mystery of thought.
Heaped up in your granaries this week, the
next it will strike in the stalwart arm, and
glow in the blushing cheek, and flash in the
beaming eye; till we learn at last to realize
