One year ago, in the balmy breezes of the "Lone Star" State, compelled was I by feebleness of frame to miss the sumptuous feast by loving hands so deftly spread. And sad, yet happy thought, those as ever ready on the poor to wait, are now in those of the Master clasped. And still I linger, and the years go by. Such is life. Deep and many are her mysteries. God knows it all, but he keeps it to himself. But what are now the prospects for the year to come? Better now, by far, than they before have been in all these dreary years of pain. Would it not be strange, if once again in providence divine I should mingle with my fellow men, and tell them, as of yore, the story of the cross? Indeed, it would; but stranger things have happened. Stranger things by providence divine have come to pass without the aid of "Warner's Safe Cure," or other disgusting humbuggery, with its offensive intrusion into the reading of decent men. The providence of God is not dependent on patent nostrums; nor is He limited in His healing power to calomel or blue mass. Prayer is oft more potent than all the noxious drugs of man's device. God has promised, when consistent with His holy will, the prayers of His believing children to hear and bless. And in numbers more by far than this poor life is worth, have these from earnest, pleading souls gone up to God. Hence to-day we rest in the cheering hope that these have not been in vain. Should it please the Lord to give the health I need to fight again the battles of Christian life, what responsibilities will it bring! That strength must all be counted His who gave it. All those years must be wholly His, His cause to serve. The interests of His kingdom to His children left, must be strictly guarded. Conflicts with men, even those we love, will come to him who strictly guards the faith, as Jude directs. In all conflicts with fellow men, for two good graces I humbly pray--the courage of Paul and the gentleness of John. This holy Lord's-day morning, the sun rose bright and charming as on the seventh day of March it did three years ago in the sunny land of Florida. For the first time in many weary months did I a whiff of the outside air inhale. Oh! how delicious! 'Twas like a prisoner's whiff of the air of freedom. But this was not the best. To sit again with the brethren around the table of the Lord and hear again the sweet old story that is forever new, what a feast to the hungry soul! Then the birthday feast is next to be enjoyed. Loved ones gathered at the dear old "cottage home" to celebrate the marked event with music, song and recitation.