There Is A Power Whose Care Teaches

Features, The Great Soul's Apparent Seat.

Truth Crushed To Earth Shall Rise Again,- The Eternal Years Of God Are Hers; But Error, Wounded, Writhes With Pain, And Dies Among His Worshippers.

The Press, Important As Is Its Office, Is But The Servant Of The Human Intellect, And Its Ministry Is For Good Or For Evil, According To The Character Of Those Who Direct It. The Press Is A Mill Which Grinds All That Is Put Into Its Hopper. Fill The Hopper With Poisoned Grain, And It Will Grind It To Meal, But There Is Death In The Bread.

Follow Thou Thy Choice.

Thou Blossom Bright With Autumn Dew, And Colored With The Heaven's Own Blue.