The Glory-filled Earth.
By Dr. Cumming
ADAM could not have prayed in paradise, “Let the whole earth be filled with thy glory; for he must have praised his Maker that the whole earth already was filled with his glory; he saw it lying like a soft and shining atmosphere over all space; every bush in that beautiful Eden burning like Horeb’s bush; every mountain glowing with splendors without the transience of mount Tabor; and in all whispers of the wind—in all the chimes of the waves—in all murmuring brooks—and in the voice of God at early morn and dewy eve he heard the most delicious music. On every acre and on every footpath of that beautiful and sequestered spot he recognized the footprints and the trail of the glory of his God and Father as he passed by. He praised him that the earth was filled with his glory; he could not pray that that might be which was already come. But since that day—I appeal to the hearts that falter in their beating, to the eye, the ear, and all the senses, to the annals of nations, to the history of the world—a great deterioration has passed upon our earth; deep shadows are now mingled with its brightest sun-streaks; and the lingering and flickering bits of sunshine alone remain to remind us what a beautiful Paradise has passed away; yet presenting tokens and prophecies also that a yet more beautiful Paradise is one day to dawn. In our present experience there is scarce a line of glory upon our world that a line of suffering or a shadow of sorrow does not run parallel with. Yet, fallen as our world is, one can see traces of what it once was. An architect visiting Jerusalem guessed from the fragment of an arch what must have been the measure of its span, and the resting-place of its piers. From seeing the fragments of this ruined world, we may form a rude conjecture what a magnificent thing it once was; and even in its darkest places one can notice many things that prove if it hath fallen it is not utterly forsaken. Are there not some days in the loveliest summers that seem rays of glory just come forth from the gates of Paradise to give us a transient glimpse of a faded glory? Even in the deepest winters the laurel, and the bay tree, and the holly, and the group of evergreens, seem to say, “We will not yield as others have; we will keep the path open between the summer that has left and the summer that is to come, thus ministering to man’s heart hope in the deepest depth of nature’s decay; and with other vestiges leaving on the bosom of our world memorials that if fallen it is not altogether forsaken.” But the mere natural glory that breaks upon our world in fragments is shaded by the departure of that moral glory which once overspread the whole heaven and earth as with the very presence of God. If in Adam’s day all was harmony without, it was only responsive to a deeper harmony within. If man saw all the tokens of perfect peace above, around, and beneath, he appreciated and felt the peace the more because of the perfect repose and quiet that was within. But since the fall, these somber shadows have covered up not only the outer glory, but they have also projected themselves into the very heart of man; and in his inmost soul he feels that more has gone wrong with it than even with the world outside. He needs to pray whether he looks within or without, with intenser fervor, O Lord, let the departed glory return, let Ichabod be erased from the surface of our globe; let the days of Eden come round again; let the tide of sin and sorrow ebb, and let the whole earth be covered with the glory of God!—Dr. Cumming.