But in the very midst of all this have a religious discourse that shall show that holiness is the lost art, and that Christ is the sunshine, and that the gospel helps a blind man to see, and that from Pisgah and Mount Zion there is a better prospect than from the top of fifty Adirondacks.
As for ourselves, save in rare and peculiar circumstances, good-bye to the lecturing platform, while we try for the rest of our life to imitate the minister who said, "This one thing I do!" There are exhilarations about lecturing that one finds it hard to break from, and many a minister who thought himself reformed of lecturing has, over-tempted, gone up to the American Library or Boston Lyceum Bureau, and drank down raw, a hundred lecturing engagements.

Still, a man once in a while finds a new pair of spectacles to look through.
Between Indianapolis and Dayton, on that wild, swift ride, we found a moral which we close with--for the printer-boy with inky fingers is waiting for this paragraph--Never take the last train when you can help it.

Much of the trouble in life is caused by the fact that people, in their engagements, wait til' the last minute.

The seven-o'clock train will take them to the right place if everything goes straight, but in this world things are very apt to go crooked.

So you had better take the train that starts an hour earlier.