ogical
dreams with their religion, than to believe that the infinite
God is capable of despotic freaks or melo dramatic caprices.

The poor, odious figment that baptism with the blood of Christ
is the sole entrance to heaven, is rebuked by the sweet and awful
imperturbableness with which the laws of being act, distributing
the ingredients of hell or heaven to every one accordingly as his
vices disobey or his virtues obey the will of God.

In a universe of law where God with all his attributes is
omnipresent no trick can ever be the pathway into paradise. The
true method of salvation is by the production of a good character
through divine grace and the discipline of life. Thus, the real
law of salvation through Christ consists not in the technical
belief that he shed his blood for our redemption, but in the
personal derival from him of that spirit which will make us
willing to shed our own blood for the good of others.

There was, not long ago, called to her eternal home, a young
woman, who, by the sweet gentleness, the heroic generosity and the
unspotted fidelity of her whole life, deserves an exalted place on
the roll of feminine chivalry and saintliness. Not a brighter
name, or one associated with a more fearless and accomplished
spirit, is recorded on the list of those Christian women who
volunteered to serve as nurses in the great American war of
nationality. No soldier was braver, few were more under fire, than
she; still plying her holy work with unfaltering love and
fortitude, both in the horrid miasma of camps and before the
charge of cavalry and the blaze of cannon. Many a time, the
livelong night, under the solemn stars, equipped with assuaging
stores, she threaded her way alone through the debris of carnage,
seeking out the wounded among the dead, lifting her voice in song
as a signal for any lingering survivor who might be near. Many a
time she broke on the vision of mutilated and dying men, with the
light of love in her eyes, a hymn of cheer on her lips, and
unwearied ministrations in her hands, transfigured with courage
and devotion, gleaming on their sight through the sulphurous flame
of battle or the darkening mists of disease like an angel from
heaven. Receiving the seeds of fatal illness from her exposures,
she returned home to delight with her noble qualities all who knew
her, to make a husband happy, and then to die a contented martyr.
Meekly folding her hands, and saying: "Thanks, Father, for w