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21 Doth not their excellency which is in them go away? they die, even without wisdom.

The things around us make the impression on the imagination that they are enduring that the things of God are maybe's; possible phantoms -- not more than probabilities, scarcely that -- while the affairs about us are the bird in hand -- real, valuable, and abiding.

Few would own to the thought in this naked form, and yet this is the story that all things tend to whisper in the ear of a natural man. That it is an untrue story requires but a moment's thought to see. At any given moment, things seem stable enough; but let there be time enough for taking observations, and the truth appears. All things are on the move, and the "move" is steadily towards the grave.

You see it best, perhaps, after an absence from a place for ten or twenty years. You enquire for this one and that, and they are gone! Strangers are in their places. "Dear me; what changes!" Each year brings new stones to the cemetery. The grim scythe-bearer goes quietly round, and takes first one and then another. He misses nobody. He may be a long time in calling at a particular house, but give him time, he will be there at last as sure as there is a living man in it.

Everyone knows this and sees it, yet they fail to take in the full force of the lesson.

Bro Roberts - Servants and masters