I Read The Other Day An Account

The Emperor Constantine, Who Lifted Christianity Into Power, Murdered His Wife Fausta, And His Eldest Son Crispus, The Same Year That He Convened The Council Of Nice To Decide Whether Jesus Christ Was A Man Or The Son Of God. The Council Decided That Christ Was Consubstantial With The Father. This Was In The Year 325. We Are Thus Indebted To A Wife-murderer For Settling The Vexed Question Of The Divinity Of The Savior.

For Myself, I Have But Little Confidence In Any Business, Or Enterprise, Or Investment, That Promises Dividends Only After The Death Of The Stockholders.

It Is A Splendid Thing To Think That The Woman You Really Love Will Never Grow Old To You. Through The Wrinkles Of Time, Through The Mask Of Years, If You Really Love Her, You Will Always See The Face You Love And Won. And A Woman Who Really Loves A Man Does Not See That He Grows Old; He Is Not Decrepit To Her; She Always Sees The Same Gallant Gentleman Who Won Her Hand And Heart.

The Intellectual Advancement Of Man Depends On How Often He Can Exchange An Old Superstition For A New Truth.

Now The Struggle For Life Is So Sharp, Competition Is So Severe, That Few Men Can Succeed Who Carry A Useless Burden. The Businessmen Of Our Country Are Compelled To Lead Temperate Lives, Otherwise Their Credit Is Gone.