roic
thought or deed. He would remain a perpetual infant. As the child
journeys away from the cradle memory gathers up and carries forward
faces, words, books, arts, sciences, literatures, and these
recollections are embalmed and transmitted as soul-capital, legacies
unspeakably precious.

Yesterday, therefore, is no mausoleum of dead deeds; no storehouse of
mummies. Memory is a granary holding seed for to-morrow's sowing;
memory is an armory holding weapons for to-morrow's battles, memory is
a medicine-chest with balms for to-morrow's hurts; memory is a library
with wisdom for to-morrow's emergency. Yesterday holds the full store
of to-day's civilization, contains our tools, conveniences, knowledges;
contains our battlefields and victories; above all gives us Bethlehem
and Calvary. But alone man's yesterday is impotent; his to-morrow
insufficient. The true man binds all his days together with an
earnest, intense, passionate purpose. His yesterdays, to-days and
to-morrows march together, one solid column, animated by one thought,
constrained by one conspiracy of desire, energizing toward one holy and
helpful purpose, to serve man and love God.

God governs man through the regency of hope. The reasons thereof are
self-evident. Man is born a long way from home. No cradle rocks a
full-orbed manhood. The babe begins a mere handful of germs; a bough
of unblossomed buds. It is a weary climb from nothing to manhood, at
its best. As things rise in the scale of being the distance between
birth and maturity widens. Mollusks are born close up to their full
estate, sandflies mature in two days, butterflies in two weeks,
humming-birds in as many months. But let no man think the vast
all-shadowing redwood trees of California grew in a mushroomic night.
When the seed first thrust its rootlets down into the soil and its
plumule up to the sunshine it entered upon a long career. Saved by
hope after 800 years of growth it gives shade to myriads of birds;
beams for lath and loom and ship in the service of industry; lends pen
and pencil to poet and artist in the service of beauty; through desk
and pew enters into man's intellectual and moral life; through
instruments of convenience strengthens the sweet amenities of the home;
working, it also waited and is saved by hope.

Man stands at the very summit of creation. He is at the head of all
that creep and swim and walk and fly. Preparatory to his dominion he
begins with