Like snow drift when it has leveled the church-yard mounds, and glistening in the winter sun, lies so pure and fair and beautiful above the dead, who fester and rot below, a very plausible profession, wearing the semblance of innocence, may conceal from human eyes the foulest heart-corruption.
The grass grows green upon a mountain that holds a volcano in its bowels. Behind the rosy cheek, and soft lustrous eye of beauty, how often does there lurk a deadly disease, the deadliest of all! Even so sin has its seat within. It is a disease of the heart, and the worst of all heart complaints.
The most advanced saint is not altogether free from the bondage of sin. Sin is the greatest folly, and the sinner the greatest fool in the world. Think of a man purchasing momentary pleasure at the cost of endless pain.
Think of a dying man living as if he were never to die. Think of a man risking eternity on the uncertain chance of surviving another year.—GUTHRIE.
