<p>XII. THE REAL BIBLE.</p>
<p>OR thousands of years men have been writing the real Bible, and it is
being written from day to day, and it will never be finished while man has
life. All the facts that we know, all the truly recorded events, all the
discoveries and inventions, all the wonderful machines whose wheels and
levers seem to think, all the poems, crystals from the brain, flowers from
the heart, all the songs of love and joy, of smiles and tears, the great
dramas of Imagination's world, the wondrous paintings, miracles of form
and color, of light and shade, the marvelous marbles that seem to live and
breathe, the secrets told by rock and star, by dust and flower, by rain
and snow, by frost and flame, by winding stream and desert sand, by
mountain range and billowed sea.</p>
<p>All the wisdom that lengthens and ennobles life—all that avoids or
cures disease, or conquers pain—all just and perfect laws and rules
that guide and shape our lives, all thoughts that feed the flames of love,
the music that transfigures, enraptures and enthralls, the victories of
heart and brain, the miracles that hands have wrought, the deft and
cunning hands of those who worked for wife and child, the histories of
noble deeds, of brave and useful men, of faithful loving wives, of
quenchless mother-love, of conflicts for the right, of sufferings for the
truth, of all the best that all the men and women of the world have said,
and thought and done through all the years.</p>
<p>These treasures of the heart and brain—these are the Sacred
Scriptures of the human race.</p>
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