_How can people help loving things, when they are full of life magnetism, that even a finger touch gets the thrill of?_

_It is not the sunshine, or any other tangible why, that accounts for the pleasantness of old house corners. It is the pureness and the pleasantness that have cl.u.s.tered there; the very walls have drunk these in._

MRS. A. D. T. WHITNEY.

Our Heavenly Father, wilt Thou keep our home life bright and sweet?

Guard our lips from harsh words, our lives from shame. If quarrels arise, help us to be the first to forgive and forget. In the hour of temptation may we say no, because of a father's splendid honor, and a mother's pure face! In the time of trial or seeming defeat may we be brave and of good cheer! Teach us that home is made dear, not by its furnishings, but by the memories and inspirations of the hours we spent under its roof with those who loved us and were always tender and true!

Bind us together in the bonds of love and peace, and keep us always united and a happy family. Amen.

HENRY R. ROSE.

October 28

_There are loyal hearts, there are spirits brave, There are souls that are pure and true; Then give to the world the best you have, And the best shall come back to you._

_Give love, and love to your heart will flow, A strength in your utmost need; Have faith, and a score of hearts will show Their faith in your word and deed._

_For life is the mirror of king and slave, 'Tis just what you are and do; Then give to the world the best you have, And the best will come back to you._

MADELINE S. BRIDGES.

Almighty Father, we come to Thee for a Father's blessing, that this day we may go about Thy work and enter into Thy business, alive in Thy spirit and strong in Thy strength. We ask this for ourselves, each of us, that we may be knit to each other as brothers with brothers, to bear each other's burdens. We ask it most of all for home, that in home-life there always may be joy and peace and love, each seeking another's good, brothers and sisters with sisters and brothers, fathers and mothers with their children, that home may be the place of Thy holy spirit and the home of joy. Today we would come and go as Thy messengers, in our own lives welcoming the Father, who is with us seeking Thy strength and asking for Thy good will. Bless us today with Thy blessing. Amen.

_Edward Everett Hale._

October 29

_We are never more discontented with others than when we are discontented with ourselves. The consciousness of wrongdoing makes us irritable, and our heart in its cunning quarrels with what is outside it, in order that it may deafen the clamor within._

_In the conduct of life, habits count for more than maxims, because habit is a living maxim, become flesh and instinct. To reform one's maxims is nothing; it is but to change the t.i.tle of the book. To learn new habits is everything, for it is to reach the substance of life. Life is but a tissue of habits._

HENRI-FReDeRIC AMIEL.

Our Heavenly Father, we pray that our daily life may take on that dignity and calmness and tranquillity which are the possession of those who truly and inwardly trust and confide in the eternal Goodness, who believe that our days are ordered by a Higher Power, and that through all there runs a thread,--a chain of Infinite Love, binding us all to Thee and to one common universal good and blessedness. In this faith, keep us, O Holy Father, and, filled with love to Thee and to our neighbor, may we pursue our way and do our work, anxious only to have Thee in all our thoughts. In Thy name, Amen.

JOSHUA YOUNG.

October 30

_Thus pa.s.s away the generations of men!--thus perish the records of the glory of nations! Yet, when every emanation of the human mind has faded, when in the storms of time the monuments of man's creative art are scattered to the dust, an ever new life springs from the bosom of the earth. Unceasingly prolific Nature unfolds her germs, regardless though sinful man, ever at war with himself, tramples beneath his foot the ripening fruit!_

ALEXANDER VON HUMBOLDT.

Infinite Spirit, Thou buildest the monuments of Thy power in the rocks of the mountains, but Thou buildest the monuments of Thy love in the hearts of men. When the bodies and the works of men have perished the rocks will abide and the trees will bear their fruit. But when the rocks have crumbled the souls of men will abide. If that which is seen is temporal, we thank Thee O Lord, that the unseen is eternal. We are awed by the majesty of the seas and the mountains. But we are inspired by the immortality of the soul. Heavenly Father, may we live today as if made for eternity. So may our lives be dignified and glorified. Amen.

GEORGE L. PERIN.

October 31

_G.o.d doth not need Either man's work, or His own gifts, who best Bear His mild yoke, they serve Him best; His state Is kingly; thousands at His bidding speed And post o'er land and ocean without rest:-- They also serve who only stand and wait._

JOHN MILTON.

O G.o.d, who didst give to Thy servant light in his blindness and music in the heart, grant that I may this day be swift to run on all errands of mercy and truth, or patient to wait Thy will, if so Thou commandest.

Make me as unswerving as are the stars above me, as trustful as the birds who sing at dawn, and fear not what the day may bring. May I be strong to resist all evil, and cleave to that which is good. May I be conscious that in the loneliest hour Thou art near, and in the most solitary place there is the communion of saints. May Thy power flow through human weakness, and may all the trials and testings of life lead me constantly to the Rock that is higher than I. So may Thy will be done in my life as it is in heaven. Amen.

W. H. P. FAUNCE.

November 1

_I saw the long line of the vacant sh.o.r.e The sea-weed and the sh.e.l.ls upon the sand, And the brown rocks left bare on every hand, As if the ebbing tide would flow no more, Then heard I, more distinctly than before, The ocean breathe and its great breast expand, And hurrying came on the defenceless land The insurgent waters with tumultuous roar.

All thought and feeling and desire, I said, Love, laughter, and the exultant joy of song Have ebbed from me forever! Suddenly o'er me They swept again from their deep ocean bed And in a tumult of delight, and strong As youth, and beautiful as youth, upbore me._

HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.

We give Thee hearty thanks, most Holy Father that Thou hast not delivered up our souls to the emptiness and longing of despair. In Thy mercy and wisdom hast Thou ordained that we may taste ever afresh the deepest joys of life and ever anew feel the thrill of its loftiest inspirations. Like the sea is our life for its largeness; like the sea in its ebbs and flows. O Father of Life, flood our souls this day with a tide from the ocean of Thine own love lifting our lives to highest service and bliss. And Thine shall be all the honor and praise. Amen.

E. W. LUTTERMAN.

November 2

_The bird, let loose in Eastern skies, When hastening fondly home, Ne'er stoops to earth her wing, nor flies Where idle warblers roam.

But high she shoots through air and light Above all low delay, Where nothing earthly bounds her flight, Nor shadow dims her way._

_So grant me, G.o.d, from every care, And stain of pa.s.sion free, Aloft, through Virtue's purer air, To hold my course to Thee!

No sin to cloud--no lure to stay My soul, as home she springs;-- Thy sunshine on her joyful way, Thy freedom in her wings!_

THOMAS MOORE.

O G.o.d, who art both life and truth, the Author of our being and the light which lighteneth all, the source of our soul's life, and the goal towards which we strive, as cleaves the lark at dawn the heavenly blue, so may our souls be freed from sense, whose music siren-like would seek to draw us from our flight to Thee. As that same bird rejoices in the morning light, and sounds its note of praise, so may our souls be tuned to heavenly symphonies, and may the sunshine of Thy love, resplendent in secure omnipotence, give glad a.s.surance to our hearts, nor cease to guide our way, until we reach that central orb, our soul's true home, and find eternal rest in Thee. Amen.

ALBERT B. SHIELDS.

November 3

_There is ever a song somewhere, my dear; There is ever a something sings alway: There's the song of the lark when the skies are clear And the song of the thrush when the skies are gray, The sunshine showers across the grain, And the bluebird trills in the orchard tree; And in and out, when the eaves drip rain, The swallows art twittering ceaselessly._

_There is ever a song somewhere, my dear, Be the skies above or dark or fair, There is ever a song that our hearts may hear-- There is ever a song somewhere, my dear-- There is ever a song somewhere!_

JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY.