I will wait upon the Lord, that hideth His face from the house of Jacob, and I will look for Him.—ISA. viii. 17.

  What heart can comprehend Thy name,
    Or, searching, find Thee out?
  Who art within, a quickening flame,
    A presence round about.

  Yet though I know Thee but in part,
    I ask not, Lord, for more:
  Enough for me to know Thou art,
    To love Thee and adore.


Stand up, O heart! and yield not one inch of thy rightful territory to the usurping intellect. Hold fast to God in spite of logic, and yet not quite blindly. Be not torn from thy grasp upon the skirts of His garments by any wrench of atheistic hypothesis that seeks only to hurl thee into utter darkness; but refuse not to let thy hands be gently unclasped by that loving and pious philosophy that seeks to draw thee from the feet of God only to place thee in His bosom. Trustfully, though tremblingly, let go the robe, and thou shalt rest upon the heart and clasp the very living soul of God.