No Religion Can Long Continue

Where The Roots Of Private Virtue Are Diseased, The Fruit Of Public Probity Cannot But Be Corrupt.

Few Are There That Will Leave The Secure Seclusion Of The Scholar's Life, The Peaceful Walks Of Literature And Learning, To Stand Out A Target For The Criticism Of Unkind And Hostile Minds.

Religion Is A Wizard, A Sibyl . . . She Faces The Wreck Of Worlds, And Prophesies Restoration. She Faces A Sky Blood-red With Sunset Colours That Deepen Into Darkness, And Prophesies Dawn. She Faces Death, And Prophesies Life.

An Anxious Unrest, A Fierce Craving Desire For Gain Has Taken Possession Of The Commercial World, And In Instances No Longer Rare The Most Precious And Permanent Goods Of Human Life Have Been Madly Sacrificed In The Interests Of Momentary Enrichment.

May The Humanity That Is Within Every Human Being Be Held Precious. The Vice That Underlies All Vices Is That We Are Held Cheap By Others, And Far Worse, That In Our Innermost Soul We Think Cheaply Of Ourselves.