Infinite God, Who perceivest the destinies of worlds and of men; Who bringest to pass all that we enjoy, and Who permittest all that we suffer; may I this day be enabled to recognize Thy Fatherly goodness, in the morning mists, even as in the noonday brightness! Should sorrow becloud my pathway, should disappointment make its keen thrusts, should temptation lay its attractive coils, may my soul be made aware of Thy consoling presence, enjoy the compensations of Thy grace, assert the potency of the wisdom from above! And mayest Thou reveal Thyself! So may be fanned to a flame the divine spark in my heart, whereby all are made partakers of the victory with and through our Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen.
November 6
"Yes," she answered, lifting her eyes to his face; "I, too, have felt it, Hermas, this burden, this need, this unsatisfied longing. I think I know what it means. It is gratitude;—the language of the heart, the music of happiness. There is no perfect joy without gratitude. But we have never learned it, and the want of it troubles us. It is like being dumb with a heart full of love. We must find the word for it, and say it together. Then we shall be perfectly joined in perfect joy."
Henry Van Dyke.
Almighty God, forbid that we shall ever be satisfied with the rich gifts of Thy land, or until the gifts have brought us, appreciative, humble, grateful, to Thee, the giver of them all. Help us to see that this is their high office, disregarding which the noblest of them becomes a stumbling block, accepting which the humblest of them becomes a means of grace and of surpassing gladness. Move us, then, to such acceptance of Thy favors as shall bring us to Thee rejoicing, that we may need less the experiences which shall bring us to Thee weeping. And hallow all our human loves by lifting us to a common sense and acknowledgment of Thy transcendent love, as shown especially in Jesus Christ. Amen.
November 7
"What is the real good?"
I asked, in musing mood.
"Order," said the court;
"Knowledge," said the school,
"Truth," said the wise man,
"Pleasure," said the fool,
"Love," said the maiden,
"Beauty," said the page,
"Freedom," said the dreamer,
"Home," said the sage;
"Fame," said the soldier,
"Equity," said the seer.
Spake my heart full sadly—
"The answer is not here."
Then within my bosom
Softly this I heard:
"Each heart holds the secret;
Kindness is the word."
John Boyle O'Reilly.