The World Is An Old Woman, And

Long Stormy Spring-time, Wet Contentious April, Winter Chilling The Lap Of Very May; But At Length The Season Of Summer Does Come.

The Great Silent Man! Looking Round On The Noisy Inanity Of The World,--words With Little Meaning, Actions With Little Worth,--one Loves To Reflect On The Great Empire Of Silence.

Prayer Is And Remains Always A Native And Deepest Impulse Of The Soul Of Man.

The Soul Gives Unity To What It Looks At With Love.

Woe To Him, . . . Who Has No Court Of Appeal Against The World's Judgment.