Each mother's infant?

(Henry Law, "The Healer")

Let us remove the mask, then, and
behold the multiform malignity of
this fiend, SIN.

Sin is a universal taint.

No child escapes it.

We tread this earth diverse . . .
  in climate,
  in station,
  in mental power,
  in mold of temper,
  and in frame of body.

But all who breathe life's breath
are spotted with this plague!

Adam's foul fall infused the evil
poison into human nature's veins.

Each parent sows this seed.

No offspring is infection free.

Cain was conceived in sin.

The last babe born must be corruption's heir.

Reader! your cradle may have been wealth's
downy pillow, or poverty's harsh provisions.
You may have intellect to command a gazing
world's applause, or you may crawl unknown
to an unknown grave. In these externals no
two may be the same.

But all are one in oneness of distempered soul.

Each mother's infant is transgression's child.

Sin is an all spoiling evil.

It is a weed which overruns the garden.

It stains all men, and every part in each.

It enters to pervade. Its root is in the soul.
But its fibers and its branches spread through
each faculty of mind and body. See how it
masters the whole inner frame.

The heart first sickens. This becomes harder
than the nether millstone, the nest of every
unclean bird, the den of lust's vile brood.

The head soon grows distempered. Hence error
and ignorance expel right judgment. The world
is worshiped as a rightful lord. Hell is derided
as some weak fable. Repentance is reserved
for dying moments. The glorious Word is
scorned as the bewildered page in which the
brainsick and fanatic glean delusions.

The eye is blind to see the 'chief among
ten thousand, the altogether lovely One.'

The ear hears nothing but discord in the Gospel melody.

The palate has no relish of healthful food.

The lips, the mouth, the throat, the tongue,
are festered with contaminating sores. Alas!
how many words go forth to spread contagion
and to scatter death.

Thus the disease runs wildly through the whole man!

Sin is the union of all spiritual maladies in
one compacted mass. It is no solitary evil.
It comes in troops, in flocks, in swarms!

Sin's end is endless death. Its course is sure.
The stream flows on until the ocean's bed is
reached. Thus sin's strong bias rushes to the
pit of hell.

Oh! mark those writhing sufferers in the burning
lake! Ask them what brought them to their woe.
One wild shriek answers, Sin! Sin uncured, unchecked!

This sketch is dark.

The reality is far darker.

But why are these black colors laid? The malady's
malignity is drawn to show that one Physician
alone can avail.

"I am the Lord, who heals you." Exodus 15:26
 

n.b. You can read the rest of this outstanding
five page article by clicking on, The Healer
 
 




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