Galileo was one of the world's greatest leaders in scientific discovery. His revolutionary teachings raised the ire of the cardinals. He was finally summoned to appear before the Inquisition. There he confessed his error in having taught his new theories, especially that which related to the earth revolving round the sun, but as he walked away he is said to have muttered defiantly—Tut it moves, just the same.' True—the Divine laws abide. God's will directs God's laws, and God's Word enshrines them. Human prejudice may war against God's laws but it cannot change them. Then let us cleave to the Lord Who changes not and to the Word of His grace.—Indian Christian
(Acts 17. 24-27; Mal. 3. 6; Heb. 1. 10-12)
'We are shaking the world,' he said—
'With our conflict of black shirt and red.
We are clearing the stage For a saner age,
And the old taboos are dead.'
Said the old, old woman, 'Shake on!
I have watched men shaking this eighty years, my son.'
'We have conquered the air,' he said,
'And distance and time are fled.
Our liners race
Through realms of space
With their silver wings outspread.'
Said the old, old woman, 'Such fuss!
The birds could do it before they heard of us.'
'We have finished with God,' said he.
'From the shackles of myth break free!
There is little need
Of an outworn creed,
And a futile Deity.
Said the old, old woman, 'Let be!
God sits at my fireside, waiting to talk with me.'
(Isa. 40. 21-23; 43. 11; Mal. 3. 6)
When from my life the old-time joys have vanished—
Treasures, once mine, I may no longer claim—
This truth may feed my hungry heart, and famished.—
Lord, Thou remainest! Thou art still the same!
When streams have dried, those streams of glad refreshing—
Friendships so blest, so pure, so rich, so free;
When sun-kissed skies give place to clouds depressing—
Lord, Thou remainest, still my heart hath Thee.
When strength hath failed, and feet, now worn and weary,
On gladsome errands may no longer go—
Why should I sigh, or let the days be dreary?
Lord, Thou remainest! Could'st Thou more bestow?
Thus through life's days—whoe'er or what may fad me—
Friends, friendships, joys—in small or great degree—
Songs may be mine—no sadness need assail me,
Since Thou remainest, and my heart hath Thee.—J. Danson Smith
(Heb. 1. 11; 13. 8)
'Thou remainest!' What a comfort in this transient scene of life,
When our hopes so full of promise crash to earth in life's mad strife.
'Thou remainest I' friends have failed us—friends that were, while skies were blue;
But as sorrow's darkening shadows overspread, they proved untrue.
'Thou remainest!' wealth has vanished; comforts too have taken wing;
Poor our lot of earthly treasure, yet our hearts can gaily sing.
'Thou remainest!' health has left us: bloom of youth has ebbed away,
Beauty gone and charm departed, things of time born for a day.
`Thou remainest!'—hope is kindled. Come what may, yes, weal or woe,
'Tis enough our hearts to comfort—We remains!' all else may go.
(Heb. 1. 11; 13. 8)