No doubt the law restrains us, but all chains are not fetters, nor all walls the gloomy precincts of a jail. It is a blessed chain by which the ship, now buried in the trough and now rising on the top of the sea, rides the anchor and outlives the storm. The condemned would give worlds to break his chain, but the sailor trembles lest his should snap, and when the gray morning breaks on the wild lee shore, all strewn with wrecks and corpses, he blesses God for the good iron that stood the strain. The pale captive eyes his high prison walls, to curse the man that built it, and envy the little bird that, perched upon its summit, sings merrily, and flies away on wings of wisdom. But were you traveling some Alpine pass, where the narrow road hung over a frightful gorge, it is with other eyes you look on the wall that restrains your restive steed from backing into the gulf below. Such are the restraints God's law imposes—no other. It is a fence from evil—nothing else. It challenges the world to put its finger on any one of these ten commandments which is not meant and calculated to keep us from harming ourselves or hurting others.—Dr. Guthrie. If the riches of the Indies or the crowns of all the kingdoms of Europe were laid at my feet in exchange for my love of reading, I would spurr them all.—Fenelon.