pervades all nature with his
presence. The object of the Christian religion is to recover man from
his degraded, miserable condition, elevate him above his debasement, and
reinvest him with the character of Christ, that he may eventually dwell
with the angels in the perfections of the Infinite One.
The views and spirit transfused into the soul of the Christian are very
different from the views and spirit of the world. The spirit of the
world is pride and selfishness, the pride of rank and office, the pride
of wealth and worldly accomplishments, which lives for the praise of
men. On the contrary, the Savior imparts to all his worshipers the
loveliest of all the graces, a heaven-born humility, a modest estimate
of one's own worth, and a deep sense of unworthiness on account of human
weakness. As Christians we learn to humble ourselves in view of the
majesty and perfections of our heavenly Master. "Before honor is
humility." The Savior commands an humble religion; its love is humble,
its faith is humble; its repentance, its baptism, its hopes, its joys,
its raptures are all humble. True greatness is not found except in an
humble mind; never is an archangel more exalted, more truly great, than
when he bows before the throne of Christ. The spirit of the world is
self-will and insubordination, hard-heartedness and impenitence, or
inflexible perseverance in sin. The spirit of the world is one of
self-indulgence and guilty pleasure. Sinners are lovers of pleasure more
than lovers of God. They are eager for enjoyment and obtain it in
dissipated behavior, thought and feeling. Lawless pleasure is the idol
of the sinner's heart and the rule of his life; it often leads him to
shame, infamy and ruin. The religion of Christ gives, in the place of
this, the love of God and duty. The pleasures of the Christian are much
broader and brighter than the pleasures of the disobedient; they are far
superior to the sinner's day dreams and pleasures of sense. The spirit
of the world rejects the truth of God; distrusts his word; has not
sufficient confidence in his declarations, or, it may be, love for his
praises, and so leans upon self, having no wants, fears, or despondency
which it does not presume to relieve for itself. And often it happens
when corruptions, doubts and disobedience have kept rule until the poor
man is ruined and the hope of a better day is literally exhausted, that
the soul under the dominion of sin cries, "Lord, save, or I
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