The Bible

No fragment of any army ever survived so many battles as the Bible; no citadel ever withstood so many sieges; no rock was ever battered by so many hurricanes, and so swept by storms. And yet it stands. It has seen the rise and downfall of Daniel's four empires. Assyria bequeaths a few mutilated figures to the riches of our national museum. Media and Persia, like Babylon, which they conquered, have been weighed in the balance, and long ago found wanting. Greece faintly survives in its historic fame; and iron Rome of the Caesars has long since ceased to boast. And yet the book that foretells all this still survives. While nations, kings, philosophers, systems, institutions have died away, the Bible engages now men's deepest thoughts, is examined by the keenest intellects, stands revered before the highest tribunals, is more read and sifted and debated, more devoutly loved and more vehemently assailed, more defended and more denied, more industriously translated and freely given to the world, more honored and more abused, than any other book the world ever saw. It survives all changes, itself unchanged; it moves all minds, yet is moved by none; it sees all things decay, itself incorruptible; it sees myriads of other books engulfed in the stream of Time, yet is borne along till the mystic angel shall plant his foot upon the sea and swear by him that liveth forever and ever that time shall be no longer.— H. N. Lane