The Finest Flowers Of Genius Have Grown

Heaven Is The Day Of Which Grace Is The Dawn; The Rich, Ripe Fruit Of Which Grace Is The Lovely Flower; The Inner Shrine Of That Most Glorious Temple To Which Grace Forms The Approach And Outer Court.

It Is Not With A Rush And A Spring That We Are To Reach Christ's Character, And Attain To Perfect Saintship; But Step By Step, Foot By Foot, Hand Over Hand, We Are Slowly And Often Painfully To Mount The Ladder That Rests On Earth, And Rises To Heaven.

Faith Is The Backbone Of The Social And The Foundation Of The Commercial Fabric; Remove Faith Between Man And Man, And Society And Commerce Fall To Pieces. There Is Not A Happy Home On Earth But Stands On Faith; Our Heads Are Pillowed On It, We Sleep At Night In Its Arms With Greater Security For The Safety Of Our Lives, Peace, And Prosperity Than Bolts And Bars Can Give.

The Bible, Which Ranges Over A Period Of Four Thousand Years, Records But One Instance Of A Death-bed Conversion (the Thief On The Cross) - One That None May Despair, And But One That None May Presume.

The Hope Of Immortality Makes Heroes Of Cowards.