Review and Herald, Vol. 21, No. 2. (12/9/1862)

Review and Herald

Dec 9, 1862

The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Dec 9, 1862

The Beauty of Holiness.

BEAUTY, in the natural world, is that assemblage of graces, or properties, which pleases the eye. It is not easy to specify the elements that constitute it; perhaps we cannot say more, than that, in whatever it is found, whether in the human form, or face, in the tree in blossom, or in the richly-colored landscape, it consists in whatever pleases the beholder.

There is beauty in other things besides those which address themselves to the senses. We do not speak unintelligibly, when we speak of the works of intellect as beautiful. The mathematician understands himself when he speaks of a beautiful theorem; and the chemist does not feel that he is burying himself amid undefinable abstractions, when he speaks of the beauty of an experiment. There is beauty in thought, as truly as in the flower. A beautiful argument, a beautiful narrative, a beautiful poem, are as truly realities, as the blushing tints upon the canvas, or the speaking lips upon the almost living statue.

We are also susceptible of the same delightful emotions from the contemplation of moral objects. Moral beauty indeed has a charm which does not belong either to natural or intellectual beauty. Goodness is attractive beyond all the objects of mere sense or intellect. No color, no form, no fragrance, no sound, no demonstration, so much charms, as when we look upon the loveliness of virtue, and the "beauty of holiness." In predicting the triumphs of the great Messiah, the sacred psalmist uses the language: "Thy people shall be willing in the day of thy power; in the beauties of holiness, from the womb of the morning, thou hast the dew of thy youth." Zion is called "the perfection of beauty." Describing the spiritual character of Jerusalem, the prophet declares: "Thou wast exceeding beautiful, and thy renown went forth among the heathen for thy beauty, for it was perfect through the comeliness which the Lord God had put upon thee." Nor is it easy to find more attractive descriptions of moral excellence than that given by the prophet Isaiah when he represents the church as saying: "I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, my soul shall be joyful in my God; for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation, he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decketh himself with ornaments, and as a bride adorneth herself with her jewels."

The first and most obvious thought by which the preceding observations may be illustrated, is, that holiness is beautiful in its own nature.

Not more certainly do we look upon the rainbow, as its arch spans the heavens, or listen to the song which fills the grove with melody, with an intuitive perception of their beauty, than we intuitively discover an intrinsic beauty in holiness. It is in itself beautiful and lovely. It consists in conformity to the law of God. It is the love of God and man manifested and acted out in Christian graces and moral virtues. Toward God it is the love that is supreme, and that is expressed in delightful complacency in his whole character; in gratitude for his goodness and mercy, and in adoring views of his greatness; in ingenious sorrow for having offended him, in implicit submission to his will and authority; in confidence in his truth, and a cheerful devotion to his service and glory. Toward man, it is the impartiality of a benevolent mind; kind and unenvious; bearing and forbearing; gentle and unostentatious; meek and forgiving; unselfish and of seemly demeanor; unsuspicious, and at war only with wickedness; rejoicing in the truth and full of hope; confiding, unrearied, and it "never faileth." No right-minded man can look upon such an assemblage of excellences, without pleasing and gratified emotions. So gratified are we that the delight we feel in contemplating it seems as if diffused over the object which excites it.

We make our appeal to the moral sentiment of mankind, if such excellence is not beautiful? Moral distinctions are as obvious as the distinctions between mind and matter, light and darkness. Character may be abhorred because it is ugly and repulsive; it may be admired because it is attractive and beautiful. There is something in the principles and emotions of holiness which in their own nature distinguishes them from those that are wicked and vicious; they possess essential qualities, or attributes, which constitute them what they are, and which render them worthy.

It is worthy of remark, that the beauty of holiness is independent of the circumstances under which it is seen; it exists, indeed, when no created mind sees and contemplates it, and when it is approved and loved only by the uncreated One. It existed in the Deity before created minds were brought into existence; and it exists in thousands of created beings in the solitude of their retirement, in the depression of their grief, in the ecstasy of their joy, in the secrecy of their devotions, and in the unpublished, unuttered acts of their self-denial and kindness, which are observed by no eye but God's, and recorded only in the book of his remembrance. They are beautiful because they are what they are.

Nor is it that beauty is dependent on the state of mind with which it is contemplated. It is not the less beautiful because there are those who contemplate it with indifference, and to whom it "has no form nor comeliness;" nor because there are those who contemplate it with disgust and abhorrence, and by whom "it is despised and rejected." Such minds are depraved and blinded; they are disordered minds, and in a state of moral derangement. It is no proof that the rich painting of the clouds, when gilded by the setting sun, is not beautiful, because a blind man does not behold it; nor is it any proof that the Oratorio of Handel is destitute of beauty, because a deaf man cannot discern the harmony and majesty of its musical combinations. There must be a moral sympathy with holiness in order to discern and appreciate its beauty. A truly virtuous man has but to inspect it, and he feels its attractions. Set it before him, not in its shadowy image, nor its gorgeous costume, nor its frigid formality, but in its native and true loveliness, and he is touched by its charms. It matters not what modifications of moral goodness we contemplate; whatever be its moral coloring, it delights the eye of the mind as soon as it is seen, and when it speaks, is music to the ear. We move amid such an association of holy minds, as amid beds of spices, and their fragrance reminds us of the *"smell of a field which the Lord hath blessed."

The native character of man is an odious character; it has no moral beauty until it is transformed by the power of God. The more immediate effects of that transformation are beautiful to look upon, though they present but the faint lineaments of the veriest babe in Christ. Its first emotions of love, its first beamings of hope, its first lispings of prayer, its first notes of praise, how beautiful and heavenly they are! We are told that there is joy among the angels of God when one sinner repenteth. A beautiful sight it is, when, though he treads the straight and narrow way alone, he enters upon the path of life. There are thoughts of wisdom in his bosom, and there are transparent emotions and heaven imparted purposes of devotedness to God, which are in sympathy with angels. It is a renovated mind which he possesses, one that "is come to excellent ornaments," and one that will be recognized and honored in the day when the Lord of hosts shall make up his jewels. And when such instances of moral transformation are multiplied, and simultaneous, as they often are when the Spirit is poured from on high, what scenes of beauty does the eye rest upon! How much more beautiful than dewy landscape, or blushing morn, when "the desert thus blossoms as the rose, and the wilderness becomes as the garden of the Lord?"

Holiness is also beautiful, in proportion to its purity, its constancy, its uniformity, its vigor, and its symmetry. We could advert to the character of holy men and holy women, whose names are the emblem of excellence, and the remembrance of whose virtues is as ointment poured forth. They are scattered throughout the Scriptures, and throughout a most instructive Christian biography. Time fails us to dwell upon them. When the Grecian painter Zeuxis, painted the celebrated Helen for the temple of Juno, he selected five of the most beautiful women, and copied all that was most beautiful in the form of each. Some good men have clustered graces and virtues, and more than usually falls to the share of any one man. It would seem as

though such completeness of character was made up of the finest and most enviable traits that adorn different men. Their inner life and their outward conduct are in such perfect keeping, that we cannot think of them without being instructed, reproved, stimulated, and made better.

They are captivating illustrations of moral beauty. There is nothing in this inferior world so delightful to look upon. They are like the oasis in the African desert; fertile spots, watered by springs, and covered with perpetual verdure, though amid arid sands. Man has indeed natural characteristics that are beautiful. His intellectual faculties may delight and instruct us; we may be captivated by the blandishments of his person and manner; in his natural temperament, he may be winning and attractive; but his fairest, brightest adornment is holiness.

God himself is glorious in his holiness. Good men have high complacency in his character; not a few there have been, and are, who have taken delight in contemplating his excellence, and to whom it has been and will be the theme of delighted and everlasting admiration. It is not so much his power, nor his knowledge, nor any of those perfections which are comprised in his infinite greatness, great and glorious as they are, that excite their gratified and admiring complacency, as it is that combination and concentration of moral excellencies that constitute his holiness. His holiness is his highest beauty. It is this which makes all his attributes beautiful, for which he claims the supreme reverence and delight of angels and men, and for which he is the highest object of complacent delight to his own infinite mind.

The beauty of holiness is still more conspicuous IN CONTRAST WITH THE DEFORMITY OF SIN.

We look at sin in others, we inspect it in ourselves, and we see its deformity, and need no other proof that it is that "abominable thing which God's soul hateth." Reason abhors it; conscience revolts from it; and did it not find a friend and patron in the heart of man, no place would be found for it this side the world where it meets its just recompense. Yet have we no doubt that he "who is wise in heart and mighty in strength," so overrules it that in its final results it is turned to good account. "Surely the wrath of man shall praise the Lord, and the remainder thereof will he restrain." Nor is the thought an unnatural one, that one of the objects which a wise Providence purposes to accomplish by allowing it to exist, is to make it show forth in bold relief, and strong contrast, the beauties of holiness.

We say this is not an unnatural thought; we may add, it is a revealed thought. There must be heresies among you, says the apostle, that they which are approved may be made manifest. Truth never appears so true and pure as when seen in contrast with error; nor is it ever so highly valued by its friends, as when, like the moon, walking in her brightness, it makes its path luminous amid a night of storms. So holiness never appears so beautiful and lovely as when contrasted with sin, and its varied colors are vividly painted upon the dark and retiring cloud of human wickedness. It would be an impeachment of the divine wisdom to affirm that created minds are imperfectly constituted; nor is it any evidence of their imperfection, that they may be so constituted, as that, in order to know the good in the highest degree, they must have the knowledge of the evil. If the analogy holds good in the moral world, which confessedly exists so extensively elsewhere, holiness is seen in its true splendor only when distinguished from and in contrast with that which is sinful, and when, like a stream of purest, whitest light, it descends upon Egyptian darkness.

The time was when there was no sin in the universe; nor is it too much to say, that the sinless hosts of heaven knew not how pure they were, nor how to appreciate their unsullied purity, nor how highly favored of God they were for being preserved in holiness, until they saw some of their own number fall from their high estate, and become deformed and odious and scarred by sin. That hateful apostasy had a reaction upon the views and character of the unfallen that is felt to the present day, and that will be felt through interminable ages, if it be but to give emphasis to their words when they say, "Holy! holy! holy is the Lord of hosts! the whole earth is full of his glory!"

Ever since man's apostasy in Paradise, sin has been the native and natural element of the human mind: "The whole world lieth in wickedness." And when the first ray of holiness fell upon it, how brightly it shone! and when that early promise that embodied it was uttered, and began to be developed in the heavenly purity and hopes it imparted, how beautiful was its luster, and how bright its beams as it began its course! And now, when for six thousand years, sin and holiness have had a place on the earth, how obvious is it that they have been making each other "manifest;" and that not more certainly does holiness illustrate the nature and deformity of sin, than sin illustrates the nature and beauty of holiness.

We have but to look at facts. If we are Christians, we can perceive the change which the grace of God has made in us and for us. And how beautiful are those emotions, and how precious those hopes, which are the fruit of his Spirit, contrasted with the enmity of the carnal mind, and those dark foreshadowings of the future which once enwrapped us, because we were without God and without hope in the world. If you look at others, at home and abroad, far off and near, you will have new views of the beauty of holiness. Set before your minds the hard frozen heart of the obdurate sinner, who is unmoved by all the power of God's truth, and all the persuasive motives of the gospel; who has eyes, but cannot see, and ears but cannot hear; who, when God calls, does not answer, and who, while he has a name and place among living men, is himself dead in trespasses and sins. And then fix your thoughts upon one who is humbled in the dust, and hastens to prostrate himself at the foot of the cross, and commit his guilty soul into the hands of sovereign mercy. See that wretched prodigal as he breaks away from the restraint of the divine authority, and the bosom of divine love, and wanders in the drear wilderness, and wallows in his lusts, and worn by famine, dies in remorse, agony, and despair. And then mark the footsteps of one who, ashamed of his folly, traces his weary steps to his Father's house, takes the place of a child in the family of God, comes to his bed of death in peace, and in the vigor of faith, and the serenity and cheerfulness of hope, commits his departing spirit to one who will keep it to the day of his appearing. Look over the face of human society, and mark the career of the man, whose sin, shame, and misery multiply and augment the sin, shame and misery of the world in which he dwells; who is worse than useless, because he is the enemy of God and man, and the instrument of perdition to others. And then mark the career of the man whose character is an ornament to his race, who lives to be useful, whose wisdom, virtue, and honor make the world in which he lives brighter, and better, and happier. In such a view, who has not new and more vivid impressions of the beauty of holiness?

We may also inspect these opposites more closely and in some of their most distinctive attributes and characteristics. There is the malignity of sin; and the benevolence of holiness. There is the irritation, the resentment, the fury of sin; and the meekness, the forbearance, and the forgiving spirit of holiness. There is the fraud, the falsehood, the treachery, of sin; and the honesty, the truth, the fidelity of holiness. There is the licentiousness, the debauch, the squalid wretchedness of sin; and the circumspection, the honor, and the purity of holiness. There is the ignoble meanness and egotism of sin; and the noble generosity and self-denial of holiness. There is the profanity of sin, setting its tongue against the heavens, and its mouth feeding on foolishness; and on the other hand, there is the respect for God, the reverence for God, the worship and honor of God, where holiness presents its incense, and a pure offering. On the one hand, there is the folly of sin, turning the Sabbath into a day of care, toil, and dissipation, and making the lives of men bitter with hard bondage; and on the other, there is the weekly jubilee of holiness, enjoying its loved repose amid the quietness and devotion of God's day of rest. Here there is the unhallowed avarice of sin, with all its host of evils to individuals, to families, to the world; there, there is the contentment of holiness, with all its innumerable train of blessings, chasing away from the hearts and habitations of men, the thousand passions which agitate and torment. There is Nero singing on his lyre, while Rome is wrapt in flames; and there is Paul exclaiming, "I am ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand." There are angelic smiles and demoniac frowns. There is a miniature hell, and a miniature heaven. And in this contrast, has not holiness a beauty; and do we not contemplate it somewhat as angels contemplate it, and with some measure of their joy?

In the strange and barbarous mixture of sin with holiness, as it exists in this fallen world, beautiful as it is, its perfect beauty is never seen. There are rare examples in which its luster shines forth; but as exemplified in the great mass of good men, it has no such glory. Even in the best, its beauty is defaced, is marred with blemishes, and has alloy and wickedness. Abraham must equivocate; Moses become impatient and angry; David impure and cruel; and Peter must lie and swear. It is not to earth that we must look for holiness in its transparent loveliness. It has never seen but one bright and untarnished exemplification of what holiness is; and so pure was it, and so reproachful to human wickedness, that men cried out, "Away with him! away with him! Crucify him! crucify him!" No; the spoiler has entered here. With all the power of the Mighty Healer, the poison rankles in every human bosom. The freest mind bears the marks of its native servitude; and though the chains are broken, they have left the deep furrows of their bondage.

Yet is there this precious truth, in regard to the holiness of men on the earth. Not only is it, in so far forth as it is holiness, beautiful, and like the holiness of angels, and like its divine Author; but its character is progressive, and its course is onward and upward to perfected excellence. From its first act of prostration before the mercy-seat, where it lifts its hands and heart to God; where it pours into his ear its voice of alternate penitence and praise; and where, in full view of the blood of the covenant, its faith takes hold of his righteousness and his promise; it rises, though it may be in unequal progress, higher and still more high, till at last its anticipations are realized in views that are to be never obscured, in affections of unmingled purity, and in the fullness of joy. Wondrous words are those uttered by the apostle when he says, "Beloved, now are we the sons of God; and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that when he shall appear, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is."

But how can man illustrate or impress this beautiful thought? If it requires holiness to discover the beauty of holiness, it is no marvel that it is not for lips of clay to speak of its perfected beauty. Reason and judgment have here no labored work to perform; for God hath revealed it all by his Spirit. Imagination here wings its way in silence, and its pinions droop. The impoverished heart, and even its sweetest, richest experiences, scarcely tread the hither verge of those fields of light. It is arrested, and moved to tears, and it may be to precious hopes; and when it grasps the mighty reality, it is by a vigorous faith. Oh! how sin and the world separate the heart from God and heaven. Yet is the assurance a delightful one, that it will not always be thus; and that the little holiness that exists in the present world, is an earnest of the holiness that will be. Beautiful for contemplation is it, even embedded as it is with the gross materials of earth; nay, the lowest and most imperfect degree of it possesses excellency with which no other created thing can be compared. And how beautiful when detached from the mire and rubbish of earth, and severed from all this sublunary alloy, it shines and sparkles in its own native firmament!

"Behold," says Bildad to Job, "behold even to the moon and it shineth not; and the stars are not pure in his sight; how much less is man that is a worm, and the son of man that is a worm?" Yet, glorious, beyond thought, is the destiny of this abject worm. We look upon it, and then look up to the moon and stars. Resplendent as they are, man that is a worm will be more resplendent. Those lights of heaven are not pure in his sight; but man will be more pure. Brilliant as in yonder firmament, and decked with beauty as it is, scenes of brilliancy there are far surpassing these. It is holiness that lives, gilding heaven with its beauty. Denude that pure world of its purity, and it is no longer heaven. There is nothing for which it is to be so much desired, nothing for which its glorious Architect so much values it, as its holiness. Its wall is holiness, its gates of pearl and its streets of gold are holiness. Its city is holiness. There shall in no wise enter into it anything that defileth. It has adornments from earth; but they consist of the "nations of the saved," which walk in the light of it, and of the "glory and honor of the nations" which they bring into it. "It has no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it; for the Lord doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof."

"Our Present Help."

WHY turn we from the Great Unknown! Why fear to trust the only One Who frames things by his sovereign will, And watches o'er and guards us well, And rules the world, His world, alone?

His hand is on us, pressing down; His smile removed, he wears a frown; We tremble 'neath his chastening rod, But still look up and trust our God, And see beyond the Christian's crown.

Perhaps his hand was on us laid, That evil passions might be stayed; That through the fire, the hail, the frost, With riven sails, and anchor lost, We might in faith still seek his aid.

Yes, even though dark, our days go on, We will not murmur or complain; But bearing up beneath the weight, We'll turn our course to heaven's bright gate, And trust th' ETERNAL ONE.

[Christian Era.

Profanity a National Sin.

THAT is a shallow and very partial view of our nation's depravity which sums it all up in slavery. Our slavery is bad enough, and we have no thought of measuring its guilt, or even of putting it in the scales against our national profanity. We only beg to suggest to our readers that in the day when God shall call our national sins to account for judgment, there may be a fearful score to settle on the side of our profaning his holy name! Perhaps he may think best to show us, and with us all other nations as well, that none can heap scorn on his holy name and go unpunished!

There is but too much reason to regard profane swearing as a national sin. It characterizes our American people. We fear that more than a majority of our male population, of age to speak God's awful name, are wont to take it in vain. Horrible to think of, some females prostitute the natural delicacy of female character by profane swearing! Boys learn the habit early, and glory in it as a manly accomplishment. We have seen men who rarely try to excel in anything noble, yet vie with each other to outvie the company, ingenious to invent more awful oaths, and pour them out in more horrible variety and blasphemy than their fellows!

A line to measure the depth of the nation's guilt in this matter we may find in the popular estimate of it as a sin and a shame.

Here, then, what are the facts? How do the masses estimate the sin and shame of profanity?

Of all the thousands and millions guilty of this sin, who blushes for it? Who is ashamed to have it known? We might almost ask, Who accounts it a damage to a man's general reputation? Does it disqualify a candidate for responsible pecuniary trusts, or for promotion in military life, or even in civil?

Of course, in these questions some abatement must be made where a pure Christianity prevails. The churches mostly disapprove of profane swearing; yet we fear church members sometimes vote into the highest offices men of most profane lips.

But with our eye on the masses who are outside of Christian churches, and mostly remote from their influence, what is the sentiment as to the intrinsic sin and shame of profane swearing? Do they spurn the imputation as they would that of petty theft, or fraud or lying? Do they not more often, especially in their own circles, glory in their shame? A slight incivility of manners or address, a sin of ignorance, it may be, or the least possible disrespect to the present company, shall be accounted an offense more disgraceful than the greatest outrage a man could offer his Infinite Maker! It is almost by general consent that ungodly men agree to cast out the names of God from the pale of their respectful regard, and use them only as things to scoff at, and as helps to vent their spleen and petty irritations! Alas! alas!!

Did ever a heathen nation so profane the names of its gods? Did the old Roman armies go forth to battle, cursing the names of Mars and Jupiter, and venting their excited feelings in vilifying the Higher Powers, whose aid they consciously needed and solemnly invoked? Nay, verily; such inconsistency, such madness, never lay to the charge of old Rome! Her armies were not atheists; to a fearful extent, ours are!

And can it be supposed that the great God whose name alone is holy and reverend, will pass this awful sin unnoticed? In the day when he shall call this nation to solemn account, may there not be a fearful score on the page which records our national profanity—where blasphemies and proud disdain and scorn of God are laid up for future retribution?

There is yet another point of light from which to contemplate this sin. Solemn oaths have their place in the functions of civil government, in the proceeding of courts and in the administration of justice. It is not easy to see how a free government can be administered without reliance on the solemnity of the oath. But what becomes of this solemnity when a man accustoms himself to swear in far more solemn and awful words, every hour of his waking life, and without the first thought of the majesty of that God whose name he foreswears! Does not such profanity become a rolling stone under the very pillars of our national fabric? Is it not a fearful state of things when the solemn oath has lost its hold on the conscience and finds no strength in the fear of the great and dreadful God, but rests only on the civil pains and penalties of perjury! Will his oath hold the profane witness to truth before a court of justice, or the profane officer to integrity in his public trusts? Are we aware how fatally our national profanity is sapping the foundations of our republican government?

Early Conversion.

By Bushnell

THERE could not be a worse or more baleful implication given to a child, than that he is to reject God and all holy principle, till he has come to a mature age. What authority have you from the Scriptures to tell your child, or, by any sign, to show him that you do not expect him truly to love and obey God, till after he has spent whole years in hatred and wrong? What authority to make him feel that he is the most unprivileged of all human beings, capable of sin, but incapable of repentance; old enough to resist all good, but too young to receive any good whatever? It is reasonable to suppose that you have some express authority for a lesson so manifestly cruel and hurtful, else you will shudder to give it. I ask you for the chapter and verse, out of which it is derived. Meantime, wherein would it be less incongruous for you to teach your child that he is to lie and steal, and go the whole round of vices, and then, after he comes of mature age, reform his conduct by the rules of virtue? Perhaps you do not give your child to expect that he is to grow up in sin; you only expect that he will yourself. That is scarcely better: for that which is your expectation, will assuredly be his; and what is more, any attempt to maintain a discipline at war with your own secret expectations, will only make a hollow and worthless figment of that which should be an open, earnest reality. You will never practically aim at what you practically despair of, and if you do not practically aim to unite your child to God, you will aim at something less; that is, something unchristian, wrong, sinful.

But my child is a sinner, you will say; and how can I expect him to begin a right life, until God gives him a new heart? This is the common way of speaking, and I state the objection in its own phraseology, that it may recognize itself. Who then has told you that a child cannot have the new heart of which you speak? Whence do you learn that if you live the life of Christ, before him and with him, the law of the Spirit of Life may not be such as to include and quicken him also? And why should it be thought incredible that there should be some really good principle awakened in the mind of a child? For this is all that is implied in a Christian state. The Christian is one who has simply begun to love what is good for its own sake, and why should it be thought impossible for a child to have this love begotten in him? Take any scheme of depravity you please, there is yet nothing in it to forbid the possibility that a child should be led, in his first moral act, to cleave unto what is good and right, any more than in the first of his twentieth year. He is, in that case, only a child converted to good, leading a mixed life, as all Christians do. The good in him goes into combat with the evil, and holds a qualified sovereignty. And why may not this internal conflict of goodness cover the whole life from its dawn, as well as any part of it? And what more appropriate to the doctrine of spiritual influence itself, than to believe that as the Spirit of Jehovah fills all the worlds of matter, and government in all its objects, so all human souls, the infantile as well as the adult, have a nurture of the Spirit appropriate to their age and their wants? What opinion is more essentially monstrous, in fact, than that which regards the Holy Spirit as having no agency in the immature souls of children who are growing up helpless and unconscious, into the perils of time?—Bushnell.

The Indian Massacres.

HON. WM. JAYNE, governor of Dakotah, and delegates (elect) to congress from that territory, arrived in Sringfield.,Ills., on Friday last, having come by way of St. Paul. Gov. Jayne states that the extent of the Indian massacres in Minnnesota and Dakotah have never yet been fully estimated. He believes that the number of persons killed will not fall far short of one thousand. The massacres extended over the country between Fort Abercrombie and the northern line of Iowa, a distance of not less than two hundred miles. The dead bodies of the victims of the massacre are still being found in the region desolated by the savages. The feeling among the citizens of Minnesota and Dakotah against these brutal murderers is intense.

I am not Worthy.

If you imagine that any sinner is worthy of salvation, you quite mistake the nature of the gospel. It is a free gift, not a reward. No one is worthy. Paul, Peter, John, were not worthy. But Jesus is so full of love that, unworthy as we all are, he invites us to come. If he makes our sin no objection, why should we? Jesus knows that filthy rags cover you, that a nauseous disease infects you; yet he says, “Come unto me.” On account of these very things, he says, Come. How unreasonable, then, for you to refuse because you are unworthy. You might as well say you are too hungry to eat, or too poor to receive help, as that you are too unworthy to come for pardon. Yonr very unworthiness makes you welcome.

But you say you cannot come as you ought. Then come as you can. Jesus did not say, “Come unto me running, or walking upright,” but simply, “Come.” Come in any manner, and you will be received. Come creeping, crawling—any way—only come. You say you do not repent enough. You never will; for penitence, like all other graces, is ever growing, and no one's penitence can equal his sins. But we are not saved because we repent enough, but, if we do repent at all, we are saved because Jesus died.

You say you have not love enough. You never will have till you get to heaven. But we are saved, not because we love God, but because he loves us. You say you have not faith enough. True, and every Christian needs to pray, “Lord, increase my faith.” But if you truly look to Jesus for salvation, this is faith; and, though very weak, none who possess it can perish.

But perhaps you say your heart is totally hard, and therefore that your mere cries of distress are not prayers which God can accept. Be encouraged by the case of Simon Magus. His “heart was not right in the sight of God;” he was “in the gall of bitterness, and in the bond of iniquity;” yet Peter said, “Pray God, if perhaps the thought of thy heart may be forgiven thee;” which means, “If you indeed pray to God, your sin will be forgiven.” Your condition cannot be worse than his; yet he was encouraged to come to Jesus. Come with a broken heart, that he may heal it; or as Leighton says, “If thou find it unbroken, yet give it him, with a desire that it may be broken.” However unable to come aright, make the effort: come as you can, only come; and Jesus will not, cannot reject you.—Sel.

Infidelity

INFIDELITY is like the serpent; it first covers its victims with the slime of doubts, and then gives its fatal sting, thereby paralyzing the moral faculties of its followers, who henceforth become only "living corpses."

Continue reading: Thoughts on the Revelation