A good many people are afraid of doing anything out of the regular
lines--of doing anything out of order. Now, you will find perfect
order in a cemetery. You will find perfect order where there is death.
Where there is life you will find something out of order.
Is your Soul Insured?
"Pa," said a little boy as he climbed to his father's knee, and looked
into his face as earnestly as if he understood the importance of the
subject, "pa, is your soul insured?"
"What are you thinking about, my son?" replied the agitated father.
"Why do you ask that question?"
"Why, pa, I heard Uncle George say that you had your house insured,
and your life insured; but he didn't believe you had thought of your
soul, and he was afraid you would lose it; won't you get it insured
right away?"
The father leaned his head on his hand, and was silent. He owned broad
acres of land that were covered with a bountiful produce; his barns
were even now filled with plenty, his buildings were all well covered
by insurance; and as if that would not suffice for the maintenance of
his wife and only child in case of his decease, he had, the day
before, taken a life-policy for a large amount; yet not one thought
had he given to his own immortal soul. On that which was to waste away
and become part and parcel of its native dust he had spared no pains;
but for that which was to live on and on through the long ages of
eternity he had made no provision. "What shall it profit a man if he
gain the whole world and lose his own soul?"