Are Gods More Ruthless Than Mortals? Have

Now, To Tell My Story--if Not As It Ought To Be Told, At Least As I Can Tell It,--i Must Go Back Sixteen Years, To The Days When Whitbury Boasted Of Forty Coaches Per Diem, Instead Of One Railway, And Set Forth How In Its Southern Suburb, There Stood Two Pleasant House Side By Side, With Their Gardens Sloping Down To The Whit, And Parted From Each Other Only By The High Brick Fruit-wall, Through Which There Used To Be A Door Of Communication; For The Two Occupiers Were Fast Friends.

Grandeur . . . Consists In Form, And Not In Size: And To The Eye Of The Philosopher, The Curve Drawn On A Paper Two Inches Long, Is Just As Magnificent, Just As Symbolic Of Divine Mysteries And Melodies, As When Embodied In The Span Of Some Cathedral Roof.

Music. – There Is Something Very Wonderful In Music. Words Are Wonderful Enough: But Music Is Even More Wonderful. It Speaks Not To Our Thoughts As Words Do: It Speaks Straight To Our Hearts And Spirits, To The Very Core And Root Of Our Souls. Music Soothes Us, Stirs Us Up; It Puts Noble Feelings Into Us; It Melts Us To Tears, We Know Not How: – It Is A Language By Itself, Just As Perfect, In Its Way, As Speech, As Words; Just As Divine, Just As Blessed.

Three Fishers Went Sailing Away To The West,/ Away To The West As The Sun Went Down.

Our Wanton Accidents Take Root, And Grow To Vaunt Themselves God's Laws.