mcTojaxTr": an agricultural and family newspap er. 
MORAL AND SOCIAL EBLGATION. 
Ia the training of the young, it is highly 
important that their moral and social educa¬ 
tion be not overlooked. Men may be great 
in intellectual attainments, and yet, if correct 
moral principles and social feelings and habits 
be wanting, they will be fitted only to curse, 
rather than to bless mankind. Great talents 
and abilities devoted to evil, or only negative 
for good, are by no means desirable when all 
axe free, and the majority disposed to follow 
impulses for evil rather than ioi goon. 
In the moral training, however, (which may 
be thought to include the religious,) it is not 
necessary, nor desirable, that any particular 
set of religious doctrines or tenets should be 
inculcated-.-that would be “sectarianism 
There are, however, certain grounds, broad 
and tenable, on which all may meet, whatever 
their religious sentiments. These may 
properly be made subjects lor the training of 
the young. ' . . 
Among these are the general principles ot 
right and wrong, honesty, justice, respect for 
the rights of others, benevolence, kindness. 
enerosity, obedience to parents, superiors, &c.; 
and in short, all that is implied in that broad 
rule of human action, “Do unto others as you 
would have them do unto you.” 
If there is any one thing that requires early 
and constant attention in the training of the 
young, it is their relative duties to each other 
and to the world around. There is so much 
selfishness,—so little regard to the rights of 
others; and so great is the influence of those 
in the world, that to neglect the early training 
of the young on this point, is to neglect the 
best interests of humanity. And while many 
parents would be decidedly opposed to any 
particular form of religious instruction, few 
would object to that instruction which has for 
its object the improvement of the young in the 
general principles of right and v roug. 
Should the teacher feel it his duty to im¬ 
part strictly religions instruction, especially of 
a sectarian character, he should do it at other 
convenient opportunities—not as a part ol his 
professional duties, unless it be in a sectarian 
school, or by general consent. 
Social training embraces all that is implied 
in the word “manners.” Never was there a 
time in the history of our country, when this 
duty was so much neglected by parents, (per¬ 
haps also by teachers,) as the present. The 
very prevalent doctrine, that children must not 
be restrained for fear of “breaking their 
spirits,” and thus “ destroying their native en¬ 
ergies,” has led to an almost total neglect of 
all proper training on the subject. Hence we 
see so little respect for parents, for age, and 
for superiors generally. Indeed, the word 
“superiors,” in this good old orthodox sense, 
has become almost obsolete. Yet many pa¬ 
rents who seem indifferent to the manners of 
their children at home, wish to have the teach¬ 
er attend to them at school. All wish to have 
their children appear well before the world, 
though many fail, some from neglect, others, 
perhaos, from ignorance, in training them 
aright. Hence it becomes a part of the teach¬ 
er's duty to “ care for these things;” and that 
teacher who neglects to do so, fails in one of 
his prominent duties. 
Remark.— When we consider tfie almost 
unbounded influence of a kind and faithful 
teacher, over those under his care, the extent 
and duration of that influence, and add to this 
his responsibility, not only to parents and 
children, but also to himself, his country, and 
posterity, the profession of the teacher 
sumes an importance that attaches itself to few 
other professions. It is important that he 
should feel this, and equally important that 
the world should feel it and act upon it— 
Then would the character and office of the 
teacher be better appreciated, and his labors 
be more valued aud better compensated; and 
we should not so frequently hear him com¬ 
plaining, (even the world assenting to the just¬ 
ice of the complaint,) of the “thanklessness 
of his office. H ‘ 
Out West, November, 1854. 
j When we were a 1 ad, just after we had 
! commenced the puzzling study of Arithmetic, 
I wo one day had occasion to seek the teacher s 
| aid in solving a “ question." It was in Division, 
1 and cipher as we would, we could not get an 
answer without a “remainder.” After trying 
for two long hours, we took our slate, marched 
up to the desk, and handed it to the teacher. 
He looked at our work, said not a word, wrote 
something on the slate, and handed it back to 
us. Vexed and out of patience with his cool 
indifference we returned to our seat, aud after 
indulging in some very rebellious thoughts 
against him, we read the writing. It was, 
“ Try again, there is no remainder. ’ f he silent 
but expressive sentence gave us more assur¬ 
ance than if it had been spoken a dozen times 
It inspired us with new confidence. W e aid 
try again and again, and after repeated exer¬ 
tions we succeeded in obtaining the correct re¬ 
sult without a remainder. We felt proud ol 
that boyish triumph, and when we again lain 
our slate before the master, we were amply re¬ 
warded with an approving smile and an en 
couraging word. 
Those six words were stamped indelliblj 
upon our memory, and ever afterwards when 
any apparent difficulty stared us in the face in 
our undertakings, they recurred to us. Right 
there before us—with our minds eye—we can 
see them on the slate—every word, every let¬ 
ter distinctly—and wa take iresh courage and 
< L tr y amain ” Those words were the talisman 
to all we have ever accomplished. They were 
not cherished because ©f their authorship. 
The crabbed little schoolmaster that wrote 
them was the least beloved by us of all our 
youthful instructors, and yet he wrote ax 
words that are engraven on our heart. Con- 
ncautville ( Pa.) Banner. 
AN HOUR AT THE ASSAY OFFICE. 
But to return to business. The gold hav¬ 
ing been, as we have seen, weighed, melted, 
weighed again, and deposited as bullion in the 
vault, is next to be assayod—that is, to have 
its value and fineness ascertained by a delicate 
chemical process. We were tortunate enough 
to witness the operation, as superintended by 
Mr. Mason, the Assistant Assayer. _ It is per¬ 
formed in this wise,—on each deposit—which, 
it must be remembered, still retains with its 
gold the various impurities with which it first 
came out of the mine—two bars are selected at 
random, and a small shaving of a prescribed 
weight is cut from each. A pair of scales is 
employed, so delicate that the thousandtn part 
of a grain will turn it, to weigh them separate¬ 
ly. They are then wrapped round in a thin 
coating of lead, and having been put into little 
cups, called cuppels, made ol phosphate of 
lime—or, in plain English, of burnt bone—are 
subjected to an intense heat. At once the 
lead melts, and uniting with the copper, and 
other foreign ingredients of the gold, assists 
their oxydising, and with them is absorbed 
into the porous substance of the cup, leaving 
no sign, except a dark stain, of its presence. 
But the gold still shines out in the cup, en¬ 
closed by a trifling wash of silver, that for 
some reason or other does not like to disap- 
. his following beautiful and masculine ex¬ 
tract is from an address delivered by Judge 
Black, before the Agricultural Society of Som¬ 
erset Co., Fa. It gives a vivid picture of hu¬ 
man progress in garments ol the most classic 
beauty: 
Without science, man, the ruler of this 
world, would be the most helpless of all ani¬ 
mated beings. His Creator made him the 
monarch of the earth, and gave him dominion 
over it, to govern and control it; to levy un¬ 
limited contributions upon it, and convert ev¬ 
erything in it to his own use. But he found 
himself at the head ot a revolted empire. All 
its physical forces were in a state of insurrec¬ 
tion against his lawful authority. ^ ‘he iufen* 
or animals were his enemies. The storms 
poured their fury on his unsheltered head. He 
was terrified by the roar of the thunder, and 
+ 1 i rrli i IV 111 cr ctp. wr (* fl his eveballs. He was 
[Written for the Rural New-Yorker.] 
LOOK UP. 
BY J. C. MIM.KR- 
Look up I the stars are shining 
With pale and gentle ray , 
Look up! no more repining— 
Drive gloomy thoughts away. 
Drink In the glory flowing 
From choral founts of Night, 
And feel your spirit glowing 
With new and dear delight I 
the lightning seared his eyeballs. _ 
parched under the hot sun ot summer, and in 
winter he was pierced by the cold. T he soil, 
cursed for his sake, produced thorns aud this¬ 
tles. The food that might sustain his life'grew 
beside the poison that would destroy it, and 
he knew not how to distinguish the one from 
the other. The earth hid her minerals deep in 
her bosom, and guarded them with a rampart 
of thick-ribbed rocks. The rivers obstructed 
his passage; the mountains frowned their defi¬ 
ance upon him; and the forest spread its gloom 
around him, breathing a browner horror upon 
the dangers that beset his way. It he left the 
EMPLOYMENT IN SCHOOL. 
Tun teacher who would govern his school, 
must keep in memory one of the first princi¬ 
ples in the philosophy of mind, that what one 
does/ma his own election, is done much more 
cheerfully, than what is demanded ol himas a 
task If the teacher can interest his pupils in 
employment, excite their minds with the love 
of knowledge, and engage them m their studies 
he may both improve them in knowledge, and 
easily govern them. Let the teacher then say 
little about government; about what he shal 
do or they must do; but let him devote him¬ 
self sincerely and arduously to teaching, and 
exciting his pupils to the acquisition of learn¬ 
ing If he has any refractory.scholar, lot him 
devote that one to some particular attention, 
in the way of explaining his lesson, or mterest- 
inrr him in the school. This course will gen¬ 
erally succeed much better than threats or loud 
talk about order. Besides one cause of disor¬ 
der is want of employment, more than deep- 
seated viciousness, or a settled determination 
to resist the authority or wishes of the teacher 
If the teacher would ask himself, How can J 
n-overm my school? let him answer in pari by 
another question: How can I engage every 
scholar in his studies? One method is, for the 
teachers to spend but little time m school 
hours in discourse about order, or other mat¬ 
ters than those pertaining to recitations. It 
a teacher would have his pupils work, let him 
work; let him call upon every scholar to recite, 
aud instead of faulting him as an ill-behaved 
scholar, ascertain why he has not learned his 
lesson.—«Y. H. Report. 
A MAN ENTERING INTO LIFE. 
... . • 11 I dry land, and trusted himself to the ocean, the 
objection to ail- witm —Jto and the tem 
ver ver se the Aa«ayer would prefer that it | P<3st came hois & . , 
woukl not enclose that beautiful round button j He seemed an exile and an outcast m the 
of pure gold that remains in the cup, for the j world of which he was made to be the so - 
____fUcfLU/Mia Viftorrtar in his I reign. But science comes to rescue Kepow¬ 
erless king from his misery and degradation — 
Gradually he learns from the laws of his em¬ 
pire, and the meaus by which his rebel sub¬ 
jects may be conquered. From age to age he 
accumulates the knowledge that clothes him 
with power, and fills his heart with courage. 
Step after step, he mounts upward to Jdie 
„ Now Now ” is fihe constant syllable 
ticking from the clock of time. “ Now "is the 
watchword of the wise. “Isow is the banner 
of the prudent. 
Let us keep this little word always in our 
mind; and whenever anything presents itself to 
us in the shape of work, whether mental or 
nhvsical we should do it with all our might, 
remembering that “ Now” is the only time for 
S It is indeed a sorry way to get through 
the world by putting it off till to-morrow, say- 
in" “ Then I will do it.” No! This will never 
answer. “Now” is ours; “ 
; then ” may never be. 
Self-control.— To live happily withothers 
we must first learn to live happily with om- 
Klves. He who rules his own spirit well, can 
To adapt himself to the shifting phases in the 
life 0 f P his friends as never to be drawn into 
harshness, never to do violence t 0 the feehngs 
or tastes of those who are bound to him by 
the sacred ties of friendship or love. 
A wan entering into life ought accurately to 
know three things:—First, where he is. . Sec¬ 
ondly, where he is. Secondly, where he is go- 
in". Thirdly, what he had best to do under 
these circumstances. First, where he is -that 
is to sav, what sort of world he has got into; 
how large it is; what kind of creatures live m 
it, and how; what it is made of, and what may 
be made of it. Secondly, where is he going 
_That is to say, what chances or reports there 
are of any other world beside this; what seems 
to be the nature of that world; and whether 
for information respecting it, he had better 
consult the Bible, Koran, or Council of Trent. 
Thirdlv, what he had best do under these cir¬ 
cumstances—that is to say, what kind of facul¬ 
ties he possesses; what are the present state 
and wants of mankind; what is hi3 place in so¬ 
ciety; and what are the readiest means in his 
power of attaining happiness and diffusing it. 
The man who knows these things, and who 
has had his will subdued in the learning of 
them, that he is ready to do what he knows he 
ought, I should call educated, and the man 
who knows ihoin not, uneducated, though he 
could talk all the tongues of Babel.— Ruslans 
Stones of Venice. 
Boys, Takk Notice!— Benjamin Franklin 
Wade, Senator in Congress from Ohio, and 
Edward Wade, Representative in Congress 
from the same State, are brothers, and were 
born in Feeding Hills, (West Springfield,) in 
this county. Their father was poor, but they 
improved their leisure moments in reading or 
study, while the sons of. the wealthy were 
spending their time in foolish amusements, and 
thug laid the foundation for their present fame 
and usefulness. They did not have the bene¬ 
fit of a liberal education.— Westfield Jxews 
Letter. 
Livh Within your Means.—’ the art of liv¬ 
ing easily as to money, is to pitch your scale 
of living one degree below your means.— 
Comfort and enjoyment are more dependent 
upon easiness in the detail of expenditure, than 
upon one degree difference in the scale. 
Teachers and pupils ought always to be 
friends. A genial feeling of sympathy aud 
affection goes much further towards enforcing 
obedience to the rules of school than all the 
rules and ferules ever wielded by the sternost 
tyrant of the schoolroom. Courtesy always 
wins its way. 
same reason that the fastidious boarder, in his | reign. 
Chatham street head-quarters, preferred his 
butter and his hairs on se [jar ate plates. This, 
then, is the way he separates them:—The but¬ 
ton is placed on an anvil and flattened with a 
hammer to such a thinness as may make it 
permeable to the nitric acid, in which it must 
now be immersed. A small long-necked bot¬ 
tle, called a matrass, contains this fluid, into 
which he drops the button. The bottle is 
heated over a furnace, and the acid completely 
absorbs the remaining alloy, leaving the gold 
perfectly pure, with only, a slight black cover- 
in" of oxydised alloy, which is removed by an¬ 
nealing. The adhering acids are then washed 
efl’, and ali he has to do is to re-weigh the two 
shavings of gold, to ascertain how much they 
have lost by the chemical changes they have 
been put through. He thus discovers what 
proportion of pure metal is contained in a 
given Dart of a deposit, and from this, judges 
®f the'fineness and value of the deposit itself. 
The owner then can receive its. value in pure 
bars of other gold, aud go on his way, resign¬ 
ing all claim to the original quantity which he 
brought to the office. # | 
The Assayer has now done his work, and 
the responsibility of the Melter and Refiner 
begins. His business is merely that of his 
predecessor, only oil a less delicate , and much 
larger scale; i. e., to free the entire deposit 
from alloy, ju3t as the Assayer had cleansed 
his diminutive shaving of a few grains in 
weight, from its impurities. Let us ascend one 
story higher in the building, and see him ope¬ 
rate' When we reach this height, we see the 
workmen in the Granulating-Room sweltering 
over seven large furnaces along the sides, and 
we notice that the cement-floor of the apart¬ 
ment is covered, about two inches deep, with 
iron grating, through which there gleam, at 
all times small particles of refuse gold or silver 
which have been carelessly or unavoidably 
dropped. It will not do to lose them, and so, 
at certain periods, the floor is carefully swept, 
and the sweepings, dirt and all, with the men s 
aprons, the discarded crucibles, ladles, &c., are 
collected, burnt, ground, and otherwise trans¬ 
formed, till a very considerable reveuue of 
precious metal is obtained therefrom. W hat 
it amounts to in the Assay Office has not been 
definitely stated, but v»c were told lhut a.t the 
Mint, in Philadelphia, it came to the handsome 
figure of $50,000 a year — i 
throne which God commissioned him to fill. 
He holds a barren sceptre in his hand no lon¬ 
ger. Creation bends to do him homage. The 
subjugated elements own him for their lord 
yield him their fealty, and become the servants 
of his will. The mine surrenders its treasures; 
the wilderness blooms around him like a new 
Edea; the rivers and the sea bear his wealth 
upon their bosom; the winds waft his na\ies 
round the globe; steam, the joint product of 
fire and water, becomes his obedient and pow¬ 
erful slave; the sunbeams are trained to do his 
painting; the lightning leaps away to carry his 
messages; and the earth works with ceaseless 
activity to bring forth whatever can minister 
to his gratification. 
LINING THE WILD BEE. 
-Eve. Post. 
ARTISTIC WORKMANSHIP IN rOMPFJI. 
There are scales and steelyards, which can 
only have been meant to weigh provisions, but 
the chains and bare of which are delicately 
wrou"ht The weight even is found made to 
represent a warrior, with a helmet most beauti¬ 
fully chiselled; and so genuine and true, so 
really intended for every-day use are these 
commercial implements, that one of tnem^lias 
stamped upon it its verification, made at the 
Capitol, declaring it to be just, The lamps 
also, and the candelebra by which they were 
supported, are most elegant not made upon a 
pattern, a fashion of the season, but exhibiting 
true artistic beauty. This feeling is carried so 
far, that even surgical instruments found in 
those ruins, which could only have been meant 
for practical purposes, display equal attention 
to ornament and delicacy of finish. Ihere is 
no end of other vessels, which must have serv¬ 
ed for domestic purposes, such as braziers, for 
instance, of which handles, rims, and other 
parts, are finished beyond what the finest 
bronzes now in Faris usually equal. What 
are we to conclude? You cannot suppose 
that these were made from the design of Flax- 
mans, the Stothards, and the Baileys of those 
days. Who has ever heard of any great artist 
in Pompeii or Herculaneum ? — Cardinal 
Wiseman. 
Power of Steam. —President Hitchcock 
says that there are in Great Britain, at the 
present day, fifteen thousand steam engines 
driven by means of coal, and thus is put into 
operation machinery equaling the unaided 
power of 300,000,000 or 400,000,000 of men. 
The influence thence emanating reaches the 
remotest portions of the globe, and tends 
mightily to the civilization aud happiness of 
the race. 
It was a common thing in an early day, in 
all this region. The wild bee was to be found 
in all of the primitive forests. There were 
professional and amateur “Bee Liners,” or 
hunters, in almost every log cabin “settle¬ 
ment.” In our boyhood we have often ac¬ 
companied them in the heavy forests ot what 
is now Wyoming county. 
When the summer flowers were in bloom 
the bee liner, prepared with a small box with 
a sliding glass cove)*, would imprison a wild 
bee which his practiced eye would easily dis¬ 
tinguish from a tame or domesticated one.— 
In the box there would be honey or molasses 
that the bee would load itself with, and when 
it had given evidence of its readiness to de¬ 
part for its forest hive, the cover would.be re¬ 
moved, and first, upward it would take its spi¬ 
ral flight, to the height of forty or fifty feet, 
and then strike off on a horizontal air line.— 
This line, the place where the bee entered the 
forest, would be carefully observed by the bee 
liner, who with his open box would patiently 
await the return of his liberated captive, who 
would almost uniformly be accompanied with 
fellow laborers. Lighting in the box they 
would take on their loads and depart, one by 
one, making the same upward flight, and strik- 
in" off on the same horizontal line. The time 
the bee, or bees, were absent, would determine 
pretty accurately the distance to the hive.— 
Entering the forest upon the line and pursuing 
it, the bee hunter, after he had gone the dis¬ 
tance that the bees had indicated, would care¬ 
fully survey the ground under each large tree 
to discover the debris of the hive; stop and 
listens for the hum of the busy workers, cash 
ing his eyes occasionally to the tops of the 
trees. If unsuccessful, he would go back to 
the starting point and repeat the “ lining” pro¬ 
cess. When the bee tree was found he would 
put the initials of his name upon it; and “for- 
[Written for Moore’s Rural New-Yorker.] 
“PEACE, HE STILL.” 
Life’s journey is not a steady calm, clouds 
now and then obscure the light of the orb of 
day, and shut out the twinkling rays of the 
distant stars. The ocean of human existence 
is ruffled at times by winds ef contention, and 
waves of adversity, as well as gently fanned by 
the breezes of prosperity. But in the midst 
of the howling tempest, there is often heard 
the kindly voice of the Master, saying “Peace, 
be still.” 
The young man sets out upon the journey 
of life, buoyant with hope, and fascinated with 
the charms of future glory, expectant only 
of enjoying the bright dreams of fortune’s gild¬ 
ed rays. But he soon learns that the sun of 
prosperity does not always illumine the path 
of the present life, and that if he would con¬ 
tinually enjoy the sunshine of contentment, he 
must not confine himself to present scenes, but 
must seek sublimer joys, and more enduring 
realities. 
Does fortune smile upon his path, he hails 
it as the token of a beneficient Providence, and 
looks forward with joyful anticipations at the 
prospect of a rich reward, and the glorious 
consummation of iu3 brightest hopes. Does 
adversity frown upon him, and mists of oppo¬ 
sition beset his way, he views them as the 
clouds of mercy, laden with the rich showers 
of divine blessing, and rejoices in the assurance, 
that though seeming ill may now betide, yet a 
wiser hand controls the affairs of universal be¬ 
ing, and that out of darkness He often brings 
resplendent light. Do angry passions tumul¬ 
tuous rise, and call for vengeance on some 
guilty head, he hears a voice gently, but with 
authority saying, “ Vengeance is mine, I will 
repay,” and with full submission he says, “ I 
will forbear, and yield to reason her rightful 
sway. 
And here again he sees a kindly hand, calm¬ 
ing the turbulent waves of a troubled breast, 
leading him in all circumstances to cherish the 
spirit of benevolence and good will, and thus 
to become assimilated to the glorious charac¬ 
ter of the Prince of Peace. And when the 
terror of a guilty conscience, aud the storms of 
Divide vengeance, threaten to overwhelm the 
soul in dark despair, how cheering the voice of 
Sovereign Mercy, whispering kindly in the 
sinner's ear, “ Be not afraid; I am thy Saviour 
and Redeemer; I have ransomed thee from the 
power of sin, and purchased for thee a heaven¬ 
ly inheritance, and a crown of eternal glory.”— 
When is waging the fierce conflict of the in¬ 
fernal powers, how does the sorrowing heart 
rejoice to hear that his Almighty Frien(l has 
won the day, and that henceforth he may ex¬ 
ult in the assurance of conscious freedom, and 
eternal peace. The command of the winds and 
waves, and the government of a universe of 
worlds, reveal something of the majesty of the 
Supreme Ruler, but the redemption of immor¬ 
tal souls, and the brighter glory of the heaven¬ 
ly world, surpass them all in sublimity, and we 
can only wonder at and admire the results of 
Infinite Love and Almighty Power. 
Vli n furious passions fill the breast, 
And c ive the soul no inward rest, 
How sweet to find the Prince of 1’eaoe, 
A present friend, a kind release. 
University of Rochester. A. D. W. 
It is said that one part, of diastase will con¬ 
vert into sugar 2,000 parts of starch. 
summer “ bee lining;” that of autumn was 
somewhat different— JYiagara Democrat. 
Tobacco and Children. —Some folks think 
it is amusing to see children now-a-days, five 
or six years old, chew tobaoco and smoke ci¬ 
gars. We observed a youngster on Saturday, 
who had not got through wearing aprons, put 
his hand into his pocket and take a paper of 
Salmon’s best fine cut from which he took a 
chew large enough to sicken an ox.— J our. 
We remember an instance of this kind of 
preeosity. Before he could talk perfectly, he 
would accost his father, who chewed, and who 
was the village Justice—“ Quare, gi’e chaw 
’bac.” His smartness was generally rewarded, 
and at 17 he was a confirmed drunkard, and 
has lived so ever since with occasional fits of 
reform. He is now a pitiful loafer, fifty years 
old, with a fair chance of being buried by the 
town.— Religious Recorder. 
Wealth.— Talk about the enjoyment of 
wealth—it never was and never can be enjoy¬ 
ed. An abundance of money is a heap of mis¬ 
ery. A man who owns a small house, a small 
farm, a small wife, a big dog, a good cow, two 
or three fat pigs, and three children ought to 
be well satisfied. 
Think. —Believe me, this world is not a 
world in which we can do well without think¬ 
ing, and least of all, do well in the matter of 
our souls. “ Don’t think,” whispers Satan: he 
knows that an unconverted heart is like a dis¬ 
honest tradesman’s book,—it will not bear a 
close inspection. “ Consider your ways,” says 
the word of God—stop and think—consider 
and be wise. Well says the Spanish proverb, 
“Hurry comes of the devil.” Just as men 
marry in haste, and repent at leisure, so they 
make mistakes about their souls in a minute, 
and then suffer for it for years. 
Wholly the Lord’s. —The Lord poured his 
love abundantly into my soul while worship- (l 
ping before him; and was enabled to renew 
my'ooveuant, to be wholly and forever hisl— 
O how precious are his ways to my soul, suited 
to my weakness, worthy of a God I I am noth¬ 
ing! He is all. I momentarily live upon his 
smiles, aud dwell under the shadow of his 
wings; I desire nothing but to please him: to 
grow in inward conformity to his will, and sink 
deeper in humble love: to let the light of what 
his graco has bestowed, shine on all around, 
and to live and die proclaiming, God is love. 
In the creation of man, God began at the 
outside; but in the work of regeneration, he 
first begins within—at the heart.— Runyan. 
