Now Comes The Mystery.

A Love Of Flowers Would Beget Early Rising, Industry, Habits Of Close Observation, And Of Reading. It Would Incline The Mind To Notice Natural Phenomena, And To Reason Upon Them. It Would Occupy The Mind With Pure Thoughts, And Inspire A Sweet And Gentle Enthusiasm; Maintain Simplicity Of Taste; And ... Unfold In The Heart An Enlarged, Unstraightened, Ardent Piety.

Nature Would Be Scarcely Worth A Puff Of The Empty Wind If It Were Not That All Nature Is But A Temple, Of Which God Is The Brightness And The Glory.

No Man Ever Learned To Love God With All His Heart, And His Neighbour As Himself, In A Day.

A Man's True State Of Power And Riches Is To Be In Himself.

The Methods By Which Men Have Met And Conquered Trouble, Or Been Slain By It, Are The Same In Every Age. Some Have Floated On The Sea, And Trouble Carried Them On Its Surface As The Sea Carries Cork. Some Have Sunk At Once To The Bottom As Foundering Ships Sink. Some Have Run Away From Their Own Thoughts. Some Have Coiled Themselves Up Into A Stoical Indifference. Some Have Braved The Trouble, And Defied It. Some Have Carried It As A Tree Does A Wound, Until By New Wood It Can Overgrow And Cover The Old Gash.