o your words, your thoughts, your tone
of voice, your feelings, the practise of self-denial, of little acts of
benevolence, of promptness, of method and order. These are auxiliaries
to holy living. Are there not many little things in your home life that
you can improve upon? Seek God for help and be truly holy.

A SOLITARY WAY.

There is a mystery in human hearts,
And though we be encircled by a host
Of those who love us well, and are beloved,
To ev'ry one of us, from time to time,
There comes a sense of utter loneliness.
Our dearest friend is "stranger" to our joy,
And can not realize our bitterness.
"There is not one who really understands,
Not one to enter into all I feel,"
Such is the cry of each of us in turn.
We wander in "a solitary way,"
No matter what or where our lot may be;
Each heart, mysterious even to itself,
Must live its inner life in solitude.
And would you know the reason why this is?
It is because the Lord desires our love.
In ev'ry heart he wishes to be first,
He therefore keeps the secret key himself,
To open all its chambers, and to bless
With perfect sympathy and holy peace
Each solitary soul which comes to him.
So when we feel this loneliness it is
The voice of Jesus saying, "Come to me";
And ev'ry time we are "not understood,"
It is a call to us to come again:
For Christ alone can satisfy the soul.
And those who walk with him from day to day
Can never have "a solitary way."
And when beneath some heavy cross you faint
And say, "I can not bear this load alone,"
You say the truth. Christ made it purposely
So heavy that you must return to him.
The bitter grief, which "no one understands,"
Conveys a secret message from the King,
Entreating you to come to him again.
The "Man of sorrows" understands it well,
"In all points tempted," he can feel with you;
You can not come too often, or too near.
The Son of God is infinite in grace,
His presence satisfies the longing soul;
And those who walk with him from day to day
Can never have "a solitary way."

STIRRING THE EAGLE'S NEST.

"As an eagle stirreth up her nest, that fluttereth over her young, he
spread abroad his wings, he took them, he bare them on his pinions."

That picture is full of poetry, full of life and truth and beauty. Mark
it. Have you ever seen an eagle stir up her nest? You know what happens.
There in the nest, right upon the rocky heights, are the eaglets. The
mother eagle comes and, taking hold of the