Does it ever give thee pause that men used to have a soul? Not by hearsay alone, or as a figure of speech, but as a thruth that they knew and acted upon. Verily it was another world then, but yet it is a pity we have lost the tidings of our souls. We shall have to go in search of them again or worse in all ways shall befall us.

If an eloquent speaker speak not the truth, is there a more horrid kind of object in creation?

In every object there is inexhaustible meaning; the eye sees in it what the eye brings means of seeing.

The depth of our despair measures what capability and height of claim we have to hope.

Speech is of time, silence is of eternity.

We were wise indeed, could we discern truly the signs of our own time; and by knowledge of its wants and advantages, wisely adjust our own position in it. Let us, instead of gazing idly into the obscure distance, look calmly around us, for a little, on the perplexed scene where we stand. Perhaps, on a more serious inspection, something of its perplexity will disappear, some of its distinctive characters and deeper tendencies more clearly reveal themselves; whereby our own relations to it, our own true aims and endeavors in it, may also become clearer.

The thing is not only to avoid error, but to attain immense masses of truth.