A Man Without A Vote Is In

If One Should Give Me A Dish Of Sand, And Tell Me There Were Particles Of Iron In It, I Might Look For Them With My Eyes, And Search For Them With My Clumsy Fingers, And Be Unable To Detect Them; But Let Me Take A Magnet And Sweep Through It, And How Would It Draw To Itself The Almost Invisible Particles By The Mere Power Of Attraction. The Unthankful Heart, Like My Finger In The Sand, Discovers No Mercies; But Let The Thankful Heart Sweep Through The Day, And As The Magnet Finds The Iron, So It Will Find, In Every Hour, Some Heavenly Blessings.

The Conditions Of City Life May Be Made Healthy, So Far As The Physical Constitution Is Concerned; But There Is Connected With The Business Of The City So Much Competition, So Much Rivalry, So Much Necessity For Industry, That I Think It Is A Perpetual, Chronic, Wholesale Violation Of Natural Law. There Are Ten Men That Can Succeed In The Country, Where There Is One That Can Succeed In The City.

Age And Youth Look Upon Life From The Opposite Ends Of The Telescope; It Is Exceedingly Long,--it Is Exceedingly Short.

A Man's True Estate Of Power And Riches Is To Be In Himself; Not In His Dwelling Or Position Or External Relations, But In His Own Essential Character.

Success Surely Comes With Conscience In The Long Run, Other Things Being Equal. Capacity And Fidelity Are Commercially Profitable Qualities.