The Bible is the oldest book the world has. It antedates the Chinese bible. It has come down to us through the ages. Its enemies have sought to destroy it. Its pages are stained with the blood of martyrs. Empires, kingdoms and states have crumbled around it. How do you account for the Bible surviving the wreck of time? The answer is that God is with it and in it.
It was Mears who said,
The lyric poetry of the Hebrews was in its golden age nearly a thousand years before the birth of Horace. Deborah sang a model of a triumphant song full five hundred years before Sappho was born. The book of Esther was a venerable fragment of biography, more strange than fiction, at least twelve hundred years old at the dawn of the romantic literature of Europe. The proverbs of Solomon are by eight hundred years more ancient than the writings of Seneca.
Though it has been exploded, demolished, and made ready for the grave countless times, it goes on its triumphant way, giving light, hope, and salvation to unnumbered millions in many lands and many tongues.
The Bible lives in spite of men. False theories of religion profess to be built upon it. A relentless war is waged upon it by those who hate it, and friends to it have become lukewarm. Yet the Bible is here. It is the deathless book. It is as eternal as God. “The word of the Lord endureth forever.”