The Arkansaw traveler., 1885-08-08
cLEvELANDiANA.

Let us Study career as means only to the end character.
 The quality of divination Is the intel lectual element of altruistic faith.
 The noble soul would choose rather not to be than to be somebody in partic- lar.
 never knew a good man or a good woman who was not practically an opti- mist
 No secret of hydraulics could cause a dew-drop to hang upon a rose leaf in cube.
 Aa acorn in the mind is worth more than an oak forest at the end of the tongue.
 The past is simply humanity. I, is thou and 1, a vast congregation of thous and i's.
 So fine an ireny has history, that that which makes the shame of its wives makes the glory oi its kings
 Manners are made in the market where they are sold, and their buying and sell ing are mostly unconscious.
 To be dramatic, and at the same time accurate, is rare combination. lf the one is gift the other is grace.
 No gift can pass between human creA. lures so divine as the gift of recognition, for it touches upon the creative.
 One who has faith in the concrete is sure to have it in the abstract; and the effect is that of optimism in the world.
 We can do no braveE or better thing than to bring our best thoughts to the everyday market. They will yield us usurious interest.
 Our lives are not laid out in vast, vague yards, within which we are to exercise and develop our faculties.
 Milton's sublime audacity of faith erates the ponderous craft of his verse and keeps it from sinking into the abyss of theological pedantry.
 Herein is the significance of the saying that history repeats itself It does repeat itself, because it repeats it's factors the men and women who compose it.
 With the attitude and u,terance of her spirit confronting me, cannot allow her verse to be poetry. She is the raconteur, not the yates the scientist, not the seer.
 The dullest mortal spirit must at times grope restlessly and expectantly in the outer darkness for something beyond ; and this something must exist, will exist, in true poem.
 The mother makes the man, perhaps l; but the wife manufactures him. Some times the wife in her manufacture con firms the making of the mother, some- times counteracts il.
 The born poet has no agony in the de- liverance of his song. The uttering is to him that soothing balm which the utter ance is to the reader. It is the weeping, not the tear wept, that gives relief.
 The humanity of each of us is like some 9olian harp constructed by the Master Nj usician, and laid down tenderly by Him upon the seashore, where winds from every quarter play continuously.
 Each of us can so believe in humanity in general as to contribute to that pres sure which constantly levers up the race l; can surround ourselves with an atmos- phere optimistic rather than the contrary.
 Whether men admit it or not, faith in ourselves and faith in our brother and sister humanity follow from our faith in God, and if that faith be allowed its full growth will each win their rightful rank.
 Reciprocity, constant and equal, among all His creatures is the plan of the only maker of plans whose plans never fail in the least jot or little. He h as reserved to Himself the power to give without re- ceiving.
 Human history is nothing but one ccaselcSs flow of cause into effect. and of effect into cause. There is nothing but which is consequent. You and are but the consequents of vast tangle of ante cedents in all time before.
 You come from one of George Eliot's poems as from Turkish bath of latest science and refinement, appreciative of benefit, but so battered, beaten and dis jointed as to need repose before you can be conscious of refreshment.
 In these days of ebb and quicksand when agnosticism retrs it's stone wall in front of faith. and writes upon i, in black letters the end-all and the be- all of all knowing, the unknowable, we have no need to know where God is to confirm our faith in Him.
 AIoC SCh-AbO~iCubC ID uCSCh to u< SuiiiG at by burro wing in the narrow limit of our own individual thoughts, feelings and experience. We must, in order to truly see ourselves, stand before the great mirror, humanity, aud, in its all-rehect- ing focus, behold our own proper indi- viduali;y.
 (An erroneous notion of the Middle Ages( A tunnel Of time, one thousand years long, through which humanity rumbled blindly in an emigrant trAin, the last skyrockets sf the Roman empire Aar- ing up at one end, the first sunbeams of the Renaissance shining in al the other and no light between-the no account period of history.
 What's in a name? A rose by any other name might smell as sweet but a lily, if rechnstened rose, would never diff fuse the roses odor, nsr gain, is addi- tisn to its own spotless penectioDs, the