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The loss of fortune to a true man is but the trumpet challenge to renewed exertion, not the thunder stroke of destruction.

Edwin Hubbel Chapin

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Edwin Hubbel Chapin
Age: 65 †
Born: 1814
Born: December 29
Died: 1880
Died: January 1
Clergyman
Priest
E. H. Chapin
Edwin Hubbell Rev. Chapin
Destruction
Renewed
Loss
Trumpets
Challenges
Exertion
True
Stroke
Men
Strokes
Thunder
Fortune
Challenge
Trumpet

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A life is black, whiten it as you will.
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Objects close to the eye shut out much larger objects on the horizon and splendors born only of the earth eclipse the stars. So a man sometimes covers up the entire disk of eternity with a dollar, and quenches transcendent glories with a little shining dust.
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Through every rift of discovery some seeming anomaly drops out of the darkness, and falls, as a golden link into the great chain of order.
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Munificent nature follows the methods of the divine and true, and rounds all things to her perfect law. While nations are convulsed with blood and violence, how quietly the grass grows.
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No man knows the genuineness of his convictions until he has sacrificed something for them.
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If you should take the human heart and listen to it, it would be like listening to a sea-shell you would hear in it the hollow murmur of the infinite ocean to which it belongs, from which it draws its profoundest inspiration, and for which it yearns.
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Character has more effect than anything else. Let a number of loud-talking men take up a particular question, and one man of character, of known integrity and beauty of soul, will outweigh them all in his influence.
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Truth is poetry it is the grandest poetry.
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The conservative may clamor against reform, but he might as well clamor against the centrifugal force. He sighs for the good old times,--he might as well wish the oak back into the acorn.
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For soon, very soon do men forget Their friends upon whom Death's seal is set.
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Why, man of idleness, labor has rocked you in the cradle, and nourished your pampered life without it, the woven silk and the wool upon your bank would be in the shepherd's fold. For the meanest thing that ministers to human want, save the air of heaven, man is indebted to toil and even the air, in God's wise ordination, is breathed with labor.
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The wild bird that flies so lone and far has somewhere its nest and brood. A little fluttering heart of love impels its wings, and points its course. There is nothing so solitary as a solitary man.
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A man's love for his native land lies deeper than any logical expression, among those pulses of the heart which vibrate to the sanctities of home, and to the thoughts which leap up from his father's graves.
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The temptation is not here, where you are reading about it or praying about it. It is down in your shop, among bales and boxes, ten-penny nails, and sand-paper.
Edwin Hubbel Chapin
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O, how much those men are to be valued who, in the spirit with which the widow gave up her two mites, have given up themselves! How their names sparkle! How rich their very ashes are! How they will count up in heaven!
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Gaiety is often the reckless ripple over depths of despair.
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No one can truly see Christ, and drink in the influence of his character, and not be a Christian at heart.
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In the history of man it has been very generally the case that when evils have grown insufferable they have touched the point of cure.
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How often a new affection makes a new man! The sordid, cowering soul turns heroic. The frivolous girl becomes the steadfast martyr of patience and ministration, transfigured by deathless love. The career of bounding impulses turns into an anthem of sacred deeds.
Edwin Hubbel Chapin
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Liberty is an old fact it has had its heroes and its martyrs in almost every age. As I look back through the vista of centuries, I can see no end of the ranks of those who have toiled and suffered in its cause, and who wear upon their breasts its stars of the legion of honor.
Edwin Hubbel Chapin