In the bitter waves of woe,
Beaten and tossed about
By the sullen winds that blow
From the desolate shores of doubt,
Where the anchors that faith has cast
Are dragging in the gale,
I am quietly holding fast
To the things that cannot fail.

WASHINGTON GLADDEN.

In the darkest hour through which a human soul can pass, whatever else is
doubtful, this at least is certain. If there be no God and no future state,
yet even then, it is better to be generous than selfish, better to be
chaste than licentious, better to be true than false, better to be brave
than to be a coward. Blessed beyond all earthly blessedness is the man who,
in the tempestuous darkness of the soul, has dared to hold fast to these
venerable landmarks. Thrice blessed is he, who, when all is drear and
cheerless within and without, when his teachers terrify him, and his
friends shrink from him, has obstinately clung to moral good. Thrice
blessed, because _his_ night shall pass into clear, bright day.

F. W. ROBERTSON.



February 6


_Whoso putteth his trust in the Lord shall be safe_.--PROV. xxix. 25.