Let Every Man Be Free To Act

We Must Die Alone. To The Very Verge Of The Stream Our Friends May Accompany Us; They May Bend Over Us, They May Cling To Us There; But That One Long Wave From The Sea Of Eternity Washes Up To The Lips, Sweeps Us From The Shore, And We Go Forth Alone! In That Untried And Utter Solitude, Then, What Can There Be For Us But The Pulsation Of That Assurance, "i Am Not Alone, Because The Father Is With Me!

There Is No Doubt Of The Essential Nobility Of That Man Who Pours Into Life The Honest Vigor Of His Toil, Over Those Who Compose The Feathery Foam Of Fashion That Sweeps Along Broadway; Who Consider The Insignia Of Honor To Consist In Wealth And Indolence; And Who, Ignoring The Family History, Paint Coats Of Arms To Cover Up The Leather Aprons Of Their Grandfathers.

Labor, With Its Coarse Raiment And Its Bare Right Arm, Has Gone Forth In The Earth, Achieving The Truest Conquests And Rearing The Most Durable Monuments. It Has Opened The Domain Of Matter And The Empire Of The Mind. The Wild Beast Has Fled Before It, And The Wilderness Has Fallen Back.... Its Triumphal March Is The Progress Of Civilization.

A Great Many Men - Some Comparatively Small Men Now - If Put In The Right Position, Would Be Luthers And Columbuses.

Not In Achievement, But In Endurance, Of The Human Soul, Does It Show Its Divine Grandeur And Its Alliance With The Infinite.