There Is Tonic In The Things That

Men Judge Of Christians By Taking As Fair Samples Those That Lie Rotten On The Ground.

Our Days Are A Kaleidoscope. Every Instant A Change Takes Place In The Contents. New Harmonies, New Contrasts, New Combinations Of Every Sort. Nothing Ever Happens Twice Alike. The Most Familiar People Stand Each Moment In Some New Relation To Each Other, To Their Work, To Surrounding Objects. The Most Tranquil House, With The Most Serene Inhabitants, Living Upon The Utmost Regularity Of System, Is Yet Exemplifying Infinite Diversities.

Men Of Dissolute Lives Have Little Incentive To Look Forward To The Hopes And Glories Of Immortality. A Due Conception Of These Would Be Incompatible With Such A Life.

Our Earthly Loves Are But So Many Silver Steps Leading Us Up To The Great Golden Love Of God.

There Is Nothing Which Vanity Does Not Desecrate.