Well, Then--our Course Is Chosen--spread The Sail--

Mellow Nuts Have The Hardest Rind.

Blessed Be His Name, Who Hath Appointed The Quiet Night To Follow The Busy Day, And The Calm Sleep To Refresh The Wearied Limbs And To Compose The Troubled Spirit.

I Will But Confess The Sins Of My Green Cloak To My Grey Friar's Frock, And All Shall Be Well Again.

Respect Was Mingled With Surprise, And The Stern Joy Which Warriors Feel In Foemen Worthy Of Their Steel.

There Are Those To Whom A Sense Of Religion Has Come In Storm And Tempest; There Are Those Whom It Has Summoned Amid Scenes Of Revelry And Idle Vanity; There Are Those, Too, Who Have Heard Its "still Small Voice" Amid Rural Leisure And Placid Retirement. But Perhaps The Knowledge Which Causeth Not To Err Is Most Frequently Impressed Upon The Mind During The Season Of Affliction.