Father of love, I thank thee for thy daily love and for thy daily bread.  May I feel that thy gifts are for all, and not mine to keep and store from those who are in need.  Help me as I say, “Thy will be done to me,” to so will it to others.  Amen.

AUGUST TWENTY-NINTH

John Locke born 1632.

John Fawcett born 1768.

Frederick D. Maurice born 1805.

Oliver Wendell Holmes born 1809.

Maurice Maeterlinck born 1862.

    Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
          As the swift seasons roll! 
          Leave thy low-vaulted past! 
    Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
    Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
          Till thou at length art free,
    Leaving thine outgrown shell by life’s unresting sea!

    —­Oliver Wendell Holmes.

We all live in the sublime.  Where else can we live?  That is the only place of life.  Though you have but a little room, do you fancy that God is not there, too, and it is impossible to live therein a life that shall be somewhat lofty?  Do you imagine that you can possibly be alone, that love can be a thing one knows, a thing one sees; that events can be weighed like the gold and silver of ransom?

    —­Maurice Maeterlinck.

    My soul waiteth in silence for God only: 
    From him cometh my salvation.

    —­Psalm 62. 1.

Loving Father, help me to live, that my spirit may always dwell in thy protecting love.  Amen.

AUGUST THIRTIETH

Cleopatra died B. C. 30.

William Paley born 1743.

Julian A. Weir born 1852.

             Thyself and thy belongings
    Are not thine own so proper as to waste
    Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. 
    Heaven doth with us as we with torches do,
    Not light them for themselves; for if our virtues
    Did not go forth of us, ’twere all alike
    As if we had them not.  Spirits are not finely touched
    But to fine issues, nor Nature never lends
    The smallest scruple of her excellence,
    But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines
    Herself the glory of a creditor,
    Both thanks and use.

    —­William Shakespeare.

    Brethren, be ye imitators together of me, and mark them that so walk
    even as ye have us for an ensample.

    —­Philippians 3. 17.

My Father, I pray that I may not let my life become commonplace through habit.  May I not be content to rest in my virtues and let the days pass neglected.  Awaken my dull satisfactions to a desire to live for the greatest, that I may have the greatest to live for.  Amen.

AUGUST THIRTY-FIRST

John Bunyan died 1686.