e bravely keep down
For the sake of old times revered so,
There's many a head with thorns for a crown
Where kisses would soon make the heart glow.

--Edwin Leibfreed.

So shalt thou know wisdom to be unto thy soul;
If thou hast found it, then shall there be a reward,
And thy hope shall not be cut off.

--Proverbs 24. 14.

My Father, if I am to-day without happiness, may I go in search of it.
Help me to remember that the will thou hast given me to overcome evil
with good I may use to overcome misery with happiness. Make me careful
that I may not be trapped by selfishness as I look for joy. May I
delight in the sweet sensations that are felt in having consideration
for others, and may I make kindness a daily habit. Amen.

APRIL TWENTY-NINTH

Michel Ruyter died 1676.

Abbe Charles de St. Pierre died 1743.

Matthew Vassar born 1792.

Edward Rowland Sill born 1841.

Never yet was a springtime,
Late though lingered the snow,
That the sap stirred not at the whisper
Of the south wind, sweet and low;
Never yet was a springtime
When the buds forgot to blow.

Ever the wings of the summer
Are folded under the mold;
Life that has known no dying,
Is Love's, to have and to hold,
Till, sudden, the burgeoning Easter!
The song! the green and the gold![1]

--Margaret E. Sangster.

In tracing the shade, I shall find out the sun.

--Owen Meredith.

All chastening seemeth for the present to be not joyous but
grievous; yet afterward it yieldeth peaceable fruit unto them that
have been exercised thereby, even the fruit of righteousness.

--Hebrews 12. 11.

Almighty God, grant that as the fulfillment of the green comes to the
withered grass, so thy restoring may come to me with the glory of life
that comes in the resurrection of the soul. I trust thee to bring me
out of winter's seal, that I may help make the spring. Amen.

[Footnote 1: From Easter Bells. Copyright, 1897, by Harper &
Brothers.]

APRIL THIRTIETH

Chevalier de Bayard killed 1524.

Sir John Lubbock born 1834.

James Montgomery died 1854.

David Livingstone died 1873.

We scatter seeds with careless hands,
And dream we ne'er shall see them more;
But for a thousand years
Their fruit appears
In weeds that mar the land.

--John Keble

And there came up a sweet perfume