Thou knowest my downsitting and mine
uprising; thou understandest my thoughts afar off. Thou compassest my
path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways. Whither
shall I go from thy spirit, or whither shall I flee from thy presence?
If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there; if I make my bed in hell,
behold thou art there; if I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in
the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me and
thy right hand shall hold me. If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover
me, even the night shall be light about me; yea, the darkness hideth not
from thee; but the night shineth as the day; the darkness and the light
are both alike unto thee." And thus he would charm his hearers, visiting
their ears, perhaps, with the first true knowledge of Biblical beauty
which had ever sounded upon them. Listen to
THE MERITED EULOGY
of a Roman Catholic, in the Dublin _Review_, of June, 1853: "Who will
say that the uncommon beauty and marvelous English of the Protestant
Bible is not one of the strongholds of heresy in this country? It lives
on the ear like music that can never be forgotten, like the sound of
church-bells, which the convert hardly knows how he can forego.
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