Heaven sings evermore. Before the throne of God angles and redeemed saints extol his name. And this world is singing too; sometimes with the loud noise of the rolling thunder, of the boiling sea, of the dashing cataract, and of the lowing cattle; and often with that still, solemn harmony which flows

from the vast creation, when in its silence it praises God.

In Heaven they sing, "The Lord be exalted; let his name be magnified forever." And the earth sings the same: "Great are you in your works, O Lord! and unto you be glory."

We grow, we wax mighty, we prevail by private prayer. That we may be strong to labor, tender to sympathize, and wise to direct, let us pray. If study makes men of us, prayer will make saints of us. Our sacred furnishing for a holy life can only be found

in the arsenal of supplication, and after we have entered upon our consecrated warfare prayer alone can keep our armor bright.