JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. Our Heavenly Father, we acknowledge Thee as the Author and Giver of all truth. We bless Thee that Thou hast attuned our souls to its music, and that when with conscious life we touch its strings covering the universe we feel harmony with the Divine. We thank Thee for the truths of our sonship in Thee and for the assurances of Thy Fatherhood. We bless Thee for Jesus who was the truth made life, and who is our daily guide to its blessings. We thank Thee for the truth of immortality, with its encouragement to eager life today and its assurances of endless joyful tomorrows. Make us seekers of truth, lovers of truth and examples of truth as it is in Jesus our Savior. Amen. FRED A. DILLINGHAM. February 9 _All things are engaged in writing their history. The planet, the pebble, goes attended by its shadow. The rolling rock leaves its scratches on the mountain; the river, its channel in the soil; the animal, its bones in the stratum; the fern and leaf, their modest epitaph in the coal. The falling drop makes its sculpture in the sand or the stone. Not a foot steps into the snow or along the ground, but prints, in characters more or less lasting, a map of its march. Every act of the man inscribes itself in the memory of his fellows, and in his own manners and face. The air is full of sounds, the sky of tokens, the ground is all memoranda and signatures, and every object covered over with hints which speak to the intelligent._ _Ralph Waldo Emerson._ Our Father, who art in Heaven and in every manifestation of living nature, we turn our thoughts to Thee with the rising of each new sun. We hear Thy voice in the singing of every summer bird. We realize Thy presence in the shifting shadows of the clouds. In the arching blue above us we realize something of the depth and breadth of the love that arches over the horizon of our life and stretches like the radiant bow of promise from the green hills of childhood to the sombre mountains of old age. We beseech Thee to give us thoughts so beautiful and ennobling that even amid the sods and clods of life's daily drudgery we can always face the morning light of some new hope which comes like the old song sung in the new land. Amen. JOHN KIMBALL. February 10