Look At The Bow In The Cloud,

After All, There Is Such A Thing As Looking Like A Gentleman. There Are Men Whose Class No Dirt Or Rags Can Hide, Any More Than They Could Ulysses. I Have Seen Such Men In Plenty Among Workmen, Too; But, On The Whole, The Gentleman--by Whom I Do Not Mean Just Now The Rich--have The Superiority In That Point. But Not, Please God, Forever. Give Us The Same Air, Water, Exercise, Education, Good Society, And You Will See Whether This "haggardness," This "coarseness" (etc., For The List Is Too Long To Specify), Be An Accident, Or A Property, Of The Man Of The People.

Except A Living Man There Is Nothing More Wonderful Than A Book! A Message From The Dead - From Human Souls We Never Saw, Who Lived, Perhaps, Thousands Of Miles Away. And Yet These, In Those Little Sheets Of Paper, Speak To Us, Arouse Us, Terrify Us, Comfort Us, Open Their Hearts To Us As Brothers.

Now, To Tell My Story--if Not As It Ought To Be Told, At Least As I Can Tell It,--i Must Go Back Sixteen Years, To The Days When Whitbury Boasted Of Forty Coaches Per Diem, Instead Of One Railway, And Set Forth How In Its Southern Suburb, There Stood Two Pleasant House Side By Side, With Their Gardens Sloping Down To The Whit, And Parted From Each Other Only By The High Brick Fruit-wall, Through Which There Used To Be A Door Of Communication; For The Two Occupiers Were Fast Friends.

Therefore, Let Us Be Patient, Patient; And Let God Our Father Teach His Own Lesson, His Own Way. Let Us Try To Learn It Well And Quickly; But Do Not Let Us Fancy That He Will Ring The School-bell, And Send Us To Play Before Our Lesson Is Learnt.

All We Need To Make Us Really Happy Is Something To Be Enthusiastic About.