heart. He became the most
miserable of men, and knew no freedom from sorrow and pain. And lo,
now the man's philosophy has perished like a bubble, his influence
has utterly disappeared, for his books are unread, while only an
occasional scholar chances upon his name, tho the great summer-making
sun still shines on and Luther's eternal God fainteth not, neither is
weary.

Are you weak, oh, patriot? Remember God is strong. Do your days of
service seem short, until your life is scarcely longer than the flower
that blooms to-day and is gone tomorrow? God is eternal, and He will
take care of your work. Are you sick with hope long deferred? Hope
thou in God; He shall yet send succor. Have troubles driven happiness
from thee, as the hawk drives the young lark or nightingale from its
nest? Return unto thy rest, troubled heart, for the Lord will deal
bountifully with thee. Are you anxious for your children? God will
bring the child back from the far country. For the child hath wandered
far, the golden thread spun in a mother's heart is an unbroken thread
that will draw him home! For things that distress you to-day, you
shall thank God to-morrow. Nothing shall break the golden chain that
binds you to God's throne. Are you hopeless and despondent because of
your fainting strength? Remember that the antidote for despondency is
the thought of the unwearied God who is doing the best He can for you,
and whose ceaseless care neither slumbers nor sleeps.

Little wonder therefore that God became all and in all to this feeble
band of captives, journeying across the desert back to their ruined
life and land. God had taken away earthly things from them, that He
might be their all and in all. When the earth is made poor for us,
sometimes the heavens become rich. God closed the eyes of Milton to
the beauty in land and sea and sky, that he might see the companies of
angels marching and countermarching on the hills of God. He closed the
ears of Beethoven, that he might hear the music of St. Cecilia falling
over heaven's battlements. He gave Isaiah a slave's hut, that he might
ponder the house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. How is
it that this prophet and poet has become companion of the great ones
of the earth? At the time Isaiah rebelled against his bondage, but
when it was all over, and the fitful fever had passed, and the fleshly
fetters had fallen, he smiled at the things that once alarmed him, as
he recalled his fainting st