No Grace Can Save Any Man Unless

The Sun Does Not Shine For A Few Trees, And Flowers, But For The Wide World's Joy. The Lonely Pine On The Mountain-top Waves Its Sombre Boughs And Cries, 'thou Art My Sun.' And The Little Meadow Violet Lifts Its Cup Of Blue, And Whispers With Its Perfumed Breath, 'thou Art My Sun.' And The Grain In A Thousand Fields Rustles In The Wind, And Makes Answer, 'thou Art My Sun.' So God Sits Effulgent In Heaven, Not For A Favored Few, But For The Universe Of Life; And There Is No Creature So Poor Or So Low That He May Not Look Up With Childish Confidence And Say, 'my Father, Thou Art Mine.

People May Talk About The Equality Of The Sexes! They Are Not Equal. The Silent Smile Of A Sensible, Loving Woman Will Vanquish Ten Men.

There Are Many Troubles Which You Cannot Cure By The Bible And The Hymn-book, But Which You Can Cure By A Good Perspiration And A Breath Of Fresh Air.

The Law Is A Battery, Which Protects All That Is Behind It, But Sweeps With Destruction All That Is Outside.

Every Man Should Use His Intellect, Not As He Uses His Lamp In The Study, Only For His Own Seeing, But As The Lighthouse Uses Its Lamps, That Those Afar Off On The Seas May See The Shining, And Learn Their Way.