Death makes a beautiful appeal to charity. When we look upon the dead form, so composed and still, the kindness and the love that are in us all come forth.

God's work is freedom. Freedom is dear to his heart. He wishes to make man's will free, and at the same time wishes it to be pure, majestic, and holy.

Pure felicity is reserved for the heavenly life; it grows not in an earthly soil.

A thousand wheels of labor are turned by dear affections, and kept in motion by self-sacrificing endurance; and the crowds that pour forth in the morning and return at night are daily procession of love and duty.

There is no happiness in life, there is no misery like that growing out of the dispositions which consecrate or desecrate a home.

Some people habitually wear sadness, like a garment, and think it a becoming grace. God loves a cheerful worshipper.

I know a good many people, I think, who are bigots, and who know they are bigots, and are sorry for it, but they dare not be anything else.