Death Is A Mighty, Universal Truth.

Houses Were Knocked Down; Streets Broken Through And Stopped; Deep Pits And Trenches Dug In The Ground; Enormous Heaps Of Earth And Clay Thrown Up; Buildings That Were Undermined And Shaking, Propped By Great Beams Of Wood. In Short, The Yet Unfinished And Unopened Railroad Was In Progress.

The One Great Principle Of The English Law Is, To Make Business For Itself. There Is No Other Principle Distinctly, Certainly, And Consistently Maintained Through All Its Narrow Turnings. Viewed By This Light It Becomes A Coherent Scheme, And Not The Monstrous Maze The Laity Are Apt To Think It. Let Them But Once Clearly Perceive That Its Grand Principle Is To Make Business For Itself At Their Expense, And Surely They Will Cease To Grumble.

There Once Was A Child, And He Strolled About A Good Deal, And Thought Of A Number Of Things. He Had A Sister, Who Was A Child Too, And His Constant Companion. These Two Used To Wonder All Day Long. They Wondered At The Beauty Of The Flowers; They Wondered At The Height And Blueness Of The Sky; They Wondered At The Depth Of The Bright Water; They Wondered At The Goodness And The Power Of God Who Made The Lovely World.

There's A Young Man Hid With Me, In Comparison With Which Young Man I Am A Angel. That Young Man Hears The Words I Speak. That Young Man Has A Secret Way Pecooliar To Himself, Of Getting At A Boy, And At His Heart, And At His Liver.

There Is A Sunday Conscience As Well As A Sunday Coat; And Those Who Make Religion A Secondary Concern Put The Coat And Conscience Carefully By To Put On Only Once A Week.