MARCUS AURELIUS. Eternal Spirit of Love, teach us the power of love. Help us to learn that love is supreme, and hence envieth not, nor vaunteth itself, nor seeketh its own, but suffereth long and is kind. We, who in Jesus of Nazareth have seen the glory of Thy likeness and experienced the sweetness of Thy love, desire like Him to reveal Thee in our lives, to be loving and gentle, sincere and generous, to cooperate with friend and stranger in all that is good, to live so that they can work with us for the advancement of everything righteous. Fill us, therefore, with Thy spirit, and send us forth today in Thy service. Amen. WILLIAM W. GUTH. August 2 _"God!" let the torrents, like a shout of nations, Answer! and let the ice-plain echo, "God!" "God!" sing, ye meadow streams, with gladsome voice Ye pine groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds! And they, too have a voice, yon piles of snow, And in their perilous fall shall thunder, "God!"_ _Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost! Ye wild goats sporting round the eagle's nest! Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain storm! Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds! Ye signs and wonders of the elements! Utter forth "God!" and fill the hills with praise!_ SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. Heavenly Father, how long have Thy servants thirsted after Thee--Thou spring of everlasting life! In this land of our home the meditations of ages surround us, and through the treasured thoughts of the wise in many generations we are lifted into a light beyond the solitary soul. Countless are Thy witnesses, Eternal God! the stars without number are but a little part of them; and the prayers and aspirings of every heart of man can never cease to speak Thee. Humbled and blind amid Thy manifold glories, may we find rest in the simplicity of Christ, and be among the pure in heart who alone can see Thee. Amen. JAMES MARTINEAU. August 3 _O God, my master God, look down and see If I am making what Thou wouldst of me. Fain might I lift my hands up in the air From the defiant passion of my prayer; Yet here they grope on this cold altar stone, Graving the words I think I should make known. Mine eyes are Thine. Yea, let me not forget, Lest with unstaunched tears I leave them wet, Dimming their faithful power, till they not see Some small, plain task that might be done for Thee. My feet, that ache for paths of flowery bloom, Halt steadfast in the straitness of this room. Though they may never be on errands sent, Here shall they stay, and wait Thy full content. And my poor heart, that doth so crave for peace, Shall beat until Thou bid its beating cease. So, Thou dear master God, look down and see Whether I do Thy bidding heedfully._ ALICE BROWN.