Honor Is An Old-world Thing; But It

Coleridge Cried; "o God, How Glorious It Is To Live!" Renan Asks, "o God, When Will It Be Worth While To Live?" In Nature We Echo The Poet; In The World We Echo The Thinker.

There Is A Chord In Every Heart That Has A Sigh In It If Touched Aright.

Honor Is An Old-world Thing; But It Smells Sweet To Those In Whose Hand It Is Strong.

Charity Is A Flower Not Naturally Of Earthly Growth, And It Needs Manuring With A Promise Of Profit.

Even Of Death Christianity Has Made A Terror Which Was Unknown To The Gay Calmness Of The Pagan And The Stoical Repose Of The Indian.