Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in Thee.
Faith, repentance, and holiness are no less the free gifts of God than eternal life.
A man's free will cannot cure him even of the toothache, or a sore finger; and yet he madly thinks it is in its power to cure his soul.
Nothing in my hand I bring, Simply to Thy cross I cling
Whom should we love, if not Him who loved us, and gave himself for us?
Since much wealth too often proves a snare and an incumbrance in the Christian's race, let him lighten the weight by 'dispersing abroad and giving to the poor'; whereby he will both soften the pilgrimage of his fellow travelers, and speed his own way the faster.