Certainly, truth should be strenuous and bold; but the strongest things are not always the noisiest, as any one may see who compares scolding with logic.

Is there anything so wretched as to look at a man of fine abilities doing nothing?

Can you conceive of anything that so represents the glory, and truth, and marvelousness of God's nature as the idea of peace?

Man is concentric: you have to take fold after fold off of him before you get to the centre of his personality. You must get below his animal nature, habits, customs, affections, daily life, and sometimes go away down into the heart of the man, before you know what is really in him. But when you get into the last core of these concentric rings of personality you find a sense of the infinite-a consciousness of immortality linked to something higher and better.

In the matter of faith, we have the added weight of hope to that of reason in the convictions which we sustain relating to a future state.

Why, man of idleness, labor has rocked you in the cradle, and nourished your pampered life; without it, the woven silk and the wool upon your bank would be in the shepherd's fold. For the meanest thing that ministers to human want, save the air of heaven, man is indebted to toil; and even the air, in God's wise ordination, is breathed with labor.

Heaven never defaults. The wicked are sure of their wages, sooner or later.