ousness of being right.

How shall we explain the singular devotion of Monica to Augustine? By
mother-love? But mother-love might have been content with the greatness
of her son, and his regard for her. She bore on her heart "the salvation
of his soul," and would not cease in her quest for his spiritual
welfare. A profligate father, the degraded ideals which justified vice,
distances which seemed to be almost world-wide, did not daunt her.
Without haste and without rest she sought to bring her gifted son to
his Saviour. He had fame, and at least all the wealth that he needed,
but Monica never faltered in her prayers, or in her service, until her
son bowed before the cross, albeit for years she carried a heavy heart.

The age of martyrdom has passed but not the age in which men of vision
and strength have to serve their fellow-men with neither pecuniary
compensation nor expressed approval. And yet the number is steadily
increasing who quietly undertake herculean tasks for their fellow-men,
knowing that they will be neither appreciated nor understood, but,
instead, will have to suffer social ostracism, which is sometimes quite
as hard to endure as physical martyrdom. When a strong and earnest man
undertakes a service in which he must be misunderstood, and seldom if
ever applauded, when he chooses suffering with joy in order that he may
serve others, when he is willing to accept discomfort, social hunger,
physical pain, and without complaint continue in such a path, although
opportunities of worldly emolument and honor make their appeals to him,
it is difficult to explain the phenomena by simply saying that he is
finding strength in some hitherto unknown chamber of his own
personality. It would be easy to make a list of illustrations, long and
pathetic, of those who have patiently endured tribulation, who have
accepted heavy burdens and carried them without flinching that others
might be relieved, who have had physical deformity, depression of mind,
and pain of body, and yet who have never faltered as to their duty even
when the way was dark. The world's noblest heroes are to be found among
those who suffer but still endure and aspire in the night and silence,
clinging to duty when no one understands, and much less approves. Such
heroisms need explanation, and they have it in the inspiration and the
regeneration which are mediated by the Inseparable Spiritual Companion.

Phenomena like those of which I have thus far been