That which is true of nations is true of individuals, of each separate human brother of the Son of man. Is there one young life ruined by its own folly -- one young heart broken by its own wilfulness -- or one older life fast losing the finer instincts, the nobler aims of youth, in the restlessness of covetousness, of fashion, of ambition? Is there one such poor soul over whom Christ does not grieve? One to whom, at some supreme crisis of their lives, He does not whisper -- "Ah, beautiful organism -- thou too art a thought of God -- thou too, if thou wert but in harmony with thyself and God, a microcosmic City of God! Ah! that thou hadst known -- even thou -- at least in this thy day -- the things which belong to thy peace"? MS. Sermon. 1874. |