h the universe moves onward in its
appointed path.

With the individual life, as with the star,--it is the direction in
which it is moving that determines the results. In this truth lies
infinite encouragement. Let one set his feet in the upward way, and keep
steadfastly to his aim; let him keep unfaltering faith with his
ideals,--and his success in whatever direction he is moving, his
ultimate achievement of every aim he follows, is assured. It becomes
simply a question of time when the entire aspect of his life shall be
changed even as that of constellations in their appointed course.

It is in this manner alone that one may control his life,--not by the
working of an instantaneous miracle, but by absolute fidelity to a
definite ideal of progressive change.

"Quicksand years that whirl me I know not whither,
Your schemes, politics, fail, lines give way, substances mock and
elude me,
Only the theme I sing, the great and strong-poss'd soul, eludes not,
One's self must never give way--that is the final substance--that out
of all is sure,
Out of politics, triumphs, battles, life, what at last finally remains?
When shows break up what but one's self is sure?"

The "quicksand years" whirl away many things. Schemes dissolve and
vanish; new combinations constantly arise; every day is, indeed, a new
beginning, and

"Every morn is the world made new."

But a purpose that remains unchanged amid all the shifting scenery of
perpetual new environments must eventually fulfil itself. The stars in
their courses fight for it. The celestial laws insure its final goal.

"Out of politics, triumphs, battles, life, what at last finally remains?
When shows break up, what but one's self is sure?"

One has this sure self only in proportion as he relates his life to the
divine life. The only permanence is to be found in the currents of
divine energy, infinite and exhaustless.

There are many ways of watching the New Year in; but the somewhat unique
personal experience of welcoming it on that eve of 1902, gazing at the
vast expanse of the brilliant skies through the windows of a
sleeping-car, had its claim to beauty and sacredness. The rush of the
train gave a sense of almost floating out into the ethereal spaces.
There was a detachment from earth that hardly comes even in the sacred
service of the church on that mystic midnight of a New Year. One seemed
alone with the infinite Powers, and a new and deep