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A friend of John Adams, our second President, called upon him one day towards the close of his life, to inquire after his health. "I am not well," he replied; "I inhabit a weak, frail, decayed tenement, open to the winds, and broken in upon by the storms; and what is worse, from all I can learn, the landlord does not intend to repair."

Faith, Hope, and Love were questioned what they thought

Of future glory, which religion taught:
Now Faith believed it firmly to be true,

And Hope expected so to find it, too:
Love answered smiling with a conscious glow,
"Believe? Expect? I know it to be so."

Mountford says in "Euthanasy" :

"Faith, hope, and love, these three, but the greatest of these is love. And in that there is all comfort for them that hope to meet again. Love! Why should we doubt it will have its objects? for that faith will have its, we are sure; and love is greater than faith. If there is a heaven for our faith, there are friends in it for our love. I have known those who have grown holy through thoughts of the dead. We are saved by hope, and some of us by the special hope of being with our friends again. So that if there is salvation by hope, our friends whom we so hope for we shall certainly have again. We are not to sorrow for the dead as those that have no hope; now this implies our knowing our friends hereafter; because our grief is for their having been taken from us, and not for their having been taken into happiness."

Death

Death is the one consoler, true and tried ;
The goal of life, the hope we last retain,
Which, like some rare elixir, charms our pain
And heartens us to march till eventide;

The streaks of morning which the clouds divide

Athwart the tempest, snow, and driving rain;
The inn toward which the way worn travellers strain,
Certain to find rest there, whate'er betide:

An angel holding in his sovereign hand

Sleep, and the guerdon of ecstatic dreams,

That smooths the couch and shuts the weary eyes:
The prisoner's key; the leper's healing streams;

The beggar's purse; the exile's fatherland;

The open portico to unknown skies.

BAUDELAIRE, Fleurs du Mal.

The man hath reached the goal and won the prize, Who lives with honor, and who calmly dies With name unstained, in fond remembrance kept, By friends, by kindred, and by country wept; Blending, when life is but a faded spell,

An angel's welcome with the world's farewell!

Bronson Alcott rested his argument for immortality on the ground of the family affections. "Such strong ties," he reasoned, "could not have been made merely to be broken." Let us share his faith, and believe that they are not broken.

AMERICANA

INDEX

American Indians, The..

Authorship of the Declaration.

Cabots, The...

Constitutional Convention

Division of Legislative Authority.

Eminent Domain-National Sovereignty.

Erikson and Columbus. ...

First Legislative Assembly.

Foreknowledge

Gun-flints wanted.

Icelandic Sagas, The..

Landing of the Pilgrims.

Master Spirit of the Revolution.

Name America, The...

Norse Adventures, The..

Progress toward Position as a World Power..

Signing of the Declaration...

What it cost to discover America..

BREVITIES

CLEVER HITS OF THE HUMORISTS.

According to Agreement..

Botanical Misnomer

Business Economy

Caderousse's Wager..

Christmas Chimes

Completing a Stanza.

Democritus at Belfast.

Double X.

Frankness

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