The good alone are _great_! When winds the mountain oak assail, And lay its glories waste, Content may slumber in the vale, Unconscious of the blast. Through scenes of tumult while we roam, The heart, alas! is ne’er at home; It hopes in time to roam no more. The mariner, not vainly brave, Combats the storm, and rides the wave, To rest at last on shore. Ye proud, ye selfish, ye severe, How vain your mask of state; The good alone have joy sincere, The good alone are _great_! _Great_, when amid the vale of peace, They bid the plaint of sorrow cease, And hear the voice of artless praise; As when along the trophied plain Sublime they lead the victor train, While shouting nations gaze. _Beattie._ The wretched tumults that confound The soul, nor wealth can tell, nor kingly state; And stubborn are the cares that hover round The vaulted ceilings of the _great_. _Horace._ To meet life’s ills with soul serene, Treading the path our Saviour trod: To live as seeing things unseen, To walk and commune with our God; This is true _greatness_! worth divine! Giv’n by the Spirit and the Word To man! Thus grows that living shrine, Formed, hallowed, dwelt in by the Lord! _Rev. W. M. Hetherington._ What though the _great_, With costly pomp, and aromatic sweets, Embalmed his poor remains; or through the dome A thousand tapers shed their gloomy light, While solemn organs to his parting soul Chaunted slow orisons; say, by what mark Dost thou discern him from the lowly swain, Whose mouldering bones beneath the thorn-bound turf, Long lay neglected. _Glynn._ The truly _great_ are those who make least noise, And walk with humble looks upon the earth; They nor affect a swelling part, nor speak Big words, that make their hearers stand aside In silent awe, and clear an ample space, Like Liliputians for some Gulliver. _Greatness_ consists not in such empty gauds As dazzle and attract the public eye; It rests not on the breath of multitudes, For soothly hath the poet said--“The world Knows nothing of its _greatest_ men.” There went A _great_ man once about the daily paths Of life, and few there were that recognised The _greatness_ that in goodness dwelt; and still Small is the number unto whom this truth Is made apparent. _Egone._ GRIEF. He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows and acquainted with _grief_: and we hid as it were our faces from Him: He was despised, and we esteemed Him not.