Every experience, every touch of another life on ours, every influence that impresses us, every book we read, every conversation we have, every act of our commonest days, adds something to the invisible building.

Sorrow, too, has its place in preparing the stones to lie on the life-wall.

All life furnishes the material.
"Our to-days and yesterdays Are the blocks with which we build." There are many noble fabrics of character reared in this world.

But there are also many who build only low, mean huts, without beauty, which will be swept away in the testing-fires of judgment.

There are many, too, whose life-work presents the spectacle of an unfinished building.