Pride Is The Master Sin Of The

Consider And Act With Reference To The True Ends Of Existence. This World Is But The Vestibule Of An Immortal Life. Every Action Of Our Lives Touches On Some Chord That Will Vibrate In Eternity.

There Is A Sweet Anguish Springing Up In Our Bosoms When A Child's Face Brightens Under The Shadow Of The Waiting Angel. There Is An Autumnal Fitness When Age Gives Up The Ghost; And When The Saint Dies There Is A Tearful Victory.

Certainly, Truth Should Be Strenuous And Bold; But The Strongest Things Are Not Always The Noisiest, As Any One May See Who Compares Scolding With Logic.

It Is A Great Thing, When Our Gethsemane Hours Come, When The Cup Of Bitterness Is Pressed To Our Lips ... To Feel That It Is Not Fate, That It Is Not Necessity, But Divine Love For Good Ends Working Upon Us.

Each Thing Lives According To Its Kind; The Heart By Love, The Intellect By Truth, The Higher Nature Of Man By Intimate Communion With God.