To Turn Water Into Wine,

Through Ages, Through Eternity, What You Have Done For Christ, That, And Only That, You Are.

I Read Hard, Or Not At All; Never Skimming, Never Turning Aside To Merely Inciting Books; And Plato, Aristotle, Butler, Thucydides, Sterne, Jonathan Edwards, Have Passed Like The Iron Atoms Of The Blood Into My Mental Constitution.

He Who Seeks Truth Must Be Content With A Lonely, Little-trodden Path. If He Cannot Worship Her Till She Has Been Canonized By The Shouts Of The Multitude, He Must Take His Place With The Members Of That Wretched Crowd Who Shouted For Two Long Hours, "great Is Diana Of The Ephesians!" Till Truth, Reason, And Calmness Were All Drowned In Noise.

Simpler Manners, Purer Lives; More Self-denial; More Earnest Sympathy With The Classes That Lie Below Us, Nothing Short Of That Can Lay The Foundations Of The Christianity Which Is To Be Hereafter, Deep And Broad.

And Now Because You Are His Child, Live As A Child Of God; Be Redeemed From The Life Of Evil, Which Is False To Your Nature, Into The Life Of Goodness, Which Is The Truth Of Your Being. Scorn All That Is Mean; Hate All That Is False; Struggle With All That Is Impure Live The Simple, Lofty Life Which Befits An Heir Of Immortality.