"My best presentations of the gospel to you are so incomplete! Sometimes, when I am alone, I have such sweet and rapturous visions of the love of God and the truths of his word that I think, if I could speak to you then, I should move your hearts. I am like a child, who, walking forth on some sunny summer's morning, sees grass and flowers all shining with drops of dew. "O," he cries, "I'll carry these beautiful things to my mother." And, eagerly plucking them, the dew drops into his little palm, and all the charm is gone. There is but grass in his hand, and no longer pearls." Henry Ward Beecher.