"An inheritance incorruptible." I am writing these words in the Island
of Arran. To-morrow I shall leave the land behind, but I shall take the
landscape with me! It will be with me in the coming winter, and I shall
gaze upon Goat Fell in the streets of New York. The land is a temporary
possession, the landscape abides!
The praise of men often dies with the shout that proclaims it. Another
idol appears and the feverish worship is transferred to him. The world's
garland begins to fade as soon as it is laid upon the brow. The morning
after the coronation I possess a handful of withering leaves. But the
garland of God's praise acquires new grace and beauty with the years. It
is never so fresh and flourishing as just when everything else is fading
away. It is glorious in the hour of death! The soul goes, wearing her
garland, into the presence of the gracious Lord who gave it.
We can begin even now to wear the flowers of Paradise. We can begin even
now to furnish our minds with lovely thoughts and memories. We can have
"the mind of Christ."