We may become like angels. What debasement, then, to let our lives, with all their glorious possibilities, be dragged down into the dust of shame and dishonour! Rather let us seek continually the glory for which we were made and redeemed. “Beloved, now are we children of God, and it is not yet made manifest what we shall be.” We know that, if he shall be manifested, we shall be like him; for we shall see him even as he is. And every one that hath this hope set on him purifieth himself, even as he is pure.
“Wonderful the whiteness of thy glory!
Can we truly that perfection share?
Yes; our lives are pages of thy story,
We thy shape and superscription bear.
Tarnished forms — torn leaves — but thou canst mend them;
Thou thins own completeness canst unfold
From our imperfections, and wilt end them —
Dross consuming, turning dust to gold.”