Thou infinite Spirit of Life, in Thy sight, there is no old age. The step may grow feeble, the hair may whiten, the eye may grow dim, but each human soul is still Thy child. We gather about the tables of earth, families of children, some older, some younger, but all young in Thy sight. We pause for a moment this morning to pray for the spirit of youth. Let us cherish the power of hoping and of believing. Let us have that fine quality of the child life which keeps it facing the future with glad expectancy. Let us not give over our toils till we must. Let us not relinquish our interest in life till the evening shadows fall, and even at the last, let us lie down like the child who sleeps with his hand in the hand of his mother. Amen. GEORGE L. PERIN. December 16 _O toiling bands of mortals! O unwearied feet, travelling we know not whither! Soon, soon, it seems to you, you must come forth on some conspicuous hilltop, and but a little way further, against the setting sun, descry the spires of El Dorado. Little do ye know your own blessedness; for to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive, and the true success is to labor._ ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. Our Father, we thank Thee for the work that Thou givest us to do; for its joy, for its zest, even for its very task and weariness. We would interpret our labor by the highest good it brings us; through our brave and cheerful doing Thy heaven of peace is found. We thank Thee for our diviner hopes, and for the Spirit that would complete them. They light our days with gladness, and set our feet in large places, and though the higher hill-tops seem far away, yet meeting our duties faithfully, we do see them, and looking back we find the places of our departure lying far below. O blessed tasks! O blessed hopes! That lead us ever to our Father's love. Amen. ALBERT J. COLEMAN. December 17 _God speaks to hearts of men in many ways: Some the red banner of the rising sun, Spread o'er the snow-clad hills, has taught his praise. Some the sweet silence when the day is done; Some, after loveless lives, at length have won His word in children's hearts and children's gaze; And some have found him where low rafters ring To greet the hand that helps, the heart that cheers; And some in prayer, and some in perfecting Of watchful toil through unrewarding years; And some not less are his, who vainly sought His voice, and with his silence have been taught,-- Who bore his chains who bade them to be bound, And at the end in finding not have found._ ANONYMOUS.