under control, and prevent its increase, there is never a
diminution of the disease till the remedy of the Great Physician is
applied.

There is much senseless talk about depravity that necessarily implies,
though its advocates may not so intend, that sin has comparatively
little condemnatory force. The idea so often expressed that one must be
"a great sinner in order to need a great Saviour;" that if he is only
"partially depraved, he needs to be only partially saved;" that he must
be "totally depraved in order to be totally lost;" that he must be
"totally depraved in order to be wholly dependent on Christ for
salvation," and such like, necessarily puts a light estimate upon sin.
The idea is, that if one has but a comparatively small amount of sin,
he is not wholly lost and utterly helpless, and wholly dependent on
Christ. When the simple fact is, that sin is so heinous in its
character and condemnatory in its consequences, that any amount of it,
whether much or little, renders one as helpless and hopeless and
dependent on Christ as if he were totally depraved by nature and doubly
defiled by a life of sin. There is, therefore, no necessity for total
depravity, in order that man be in an utterly lost and helpless
condition without Christ. A grain of strychnine is just as fatal as an
ounce, without an antidote.

In order that we appreciate a physician, and avail ourselves of the
benefits of his skill, we must have faith in him. Without faith that
his skill is superior to ours, and that he can help us, we will not
call upon him. If we have faith in him we will do as he directs. The
highest evidence of faith in a physician, and the surest way of being
benefited by his skill, is in going precisely by his directions. Some
years ago the writer had a long spell of typhoid fever. His physician
came to see him one hundred and thirty times. After he became
convalescent, his physician said to him one day, "In looking back over
your case, I can attribute your recovery to but two things--your
unyielding resolution and confidence, and your faith in your
physician." What did he mean by faith in my physician? What had that to
do with it? He explained. "For," said he, "you followed my directions
minutely in everything, and for more than seven weeks the least wabble
would have turned the scale against you." This was a fine illustration
of faith, but theologically he attached to the word a very different
idea.

Such must be our faith