Where The People Possess No Authority, Their

Institutions May Crumble And Governments Fall, But It Is Only That They May Renew A Better Youth, And Mount Upwards Like The Eagle.

The Charities Of Life Are Scattered Everywhere, Enameling The Vales Of Human Beings As The Flowers Paint The Meadows. They Are Not The Fruit Of Study, Nor The Privilege Of Refinement, But A Natural Instinct.

Truth Is Not Exciting Enough To Those Who Depend On The Characters And Lives Of Their Neighbors For All Their Amusement.

Avarice Is The Vice Of Declining Years.

The Measure Of Progress Of Civilization Is The Progress Of The People.