That great mystery of TIME, were there no other; the illimitable, silent, never-resting thing called Time, rolling, rushing on, swift, silent, like an all-embracing ocean tide, on which we and all the Universe swim like exhalations, like apparitions which are, and then are not: this is forever very literally a miracle; a thing to strike us dumb,-for we have no word to speak about it.

Just in the ratio knowledge increases, faith decreases.

The outer passes away; the innermost is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Thought is the parent of the deed.

The crash of the whole solar and stellar systems could only kill you once.

He that will not work according to his faculty, let him perish according to his necessity: there is no law juster than that.

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.