In the isolation of his clear, cold intellect, the sceptic abides in a glacial and spectral universe. No glow from the affections lights up the frost and shadow of the grave. He feels no prophecy in the thrill of the human heart-in the incompleteness of nature. He believes merely in things tangible, and sees only in the daytime. He will not confess the authenticity of that paler light of faith which was meant to shine when the sunshine of reason falls short, and the firmament of mystery is over our heads.

We have not the innocence of Eden; but by God's help and Christ's example we may have the victory of Gethsemane.

Mercy. That is the gospel. The whole of it in one word.

No one can truly see Christ, and drink in the influence of his character, and not be a Christian at heart.

The essence of justice is mercy.

Setting is preliminary to brighter rising; decay is a process of advancement; death is the condition of higher and more fruitful life.

Influence is exerted by every human being from the hour of birth to that of death.