Mercy. That Is The Gospel. The Whole

Each Thing Lives According To Its Kind; The Heart By Love, The Intellect By Truth, The Higher Nature Of Man By Intimate Communion With God.

No More Duty Can Be Urged Upon Those Who Are Entering The Great Theater Of Life Than Simple Loyalty To Their Best Convictions.

A Man That Simply Loads Himself Down With Possessions Of Which He Has No Actual Need, When He Dies Slips Out Of Them--as A Little Insect Might Slip Out Of Some Parasite Shell Into Which It Has Ensconced Itself--into The Grave, And Is Forgotten.

Munificent Nature Follows The Methods Of The Divine And True, And Rounds All Things To Her Perfect Law. While Nations Are Convulsed With Blood And Violence, How Quietly The Grass Grows.

Earth Has Scarcely An Acre That Does Not Remind Us Of Actions That Have Long Preceded Our Own, And Its Clustering Tombstones Loom Up Like Reefs Of The Eternal Shore, To Show Us Where So Many Human Barks Have Struck And Gone Down.