Our thoughts are boundless, though our frames are frail, our souls immortal, though our limbs decay; though darken’d in this poor life by a veil of suffering, dying matter, we shall play in truth’s eternal sunbeams.
Night steals on; and the day takes its farewell, like the words of a departing friend, or the last tone of hallowed music in a minister’s aisles, heard when it floats along the shade of elms; in the still place of graves.
The real value of any doctrine can only be determined by its influence on the conduct of man, with respect to himself, to his fellow-creatures, or to God.
