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Deep in a dungeon an ivy grew. No rain fell upon it and no dew moistened it. Its pale leaves drank in only the foul dampness of the cell. But as the summer advanced, a sunbeam fell through the grating, streamed down into the dungeon, pouring its light and warmth for an hour every day upon the pallid plant. Life began to stir in the ivy’s roots. It lifted its head and grew up toward the sunbeam. It climbed slowly up the wall, and at last pushed itself through the bars where it could have the sunshine all day upon it with its brightness and warmth. It grew and grew, until it covered all the outer wall and was the admiration of all who passed by.
So it is when the light of divine love falls upon a perishing soul, even in the darkest dungeon of sinful degradation. It feels instantly a thrill of life. It begins to grow, and as it drinks in the blessed sunshine it rises out of its old state of death. At last it is a branch of glorious beauty, covered with fruits of holiness. Human philosophy may be very wise, but it cannot cause one stir or flutter of life in a dead soul. Science is doing marvels these days. It throws bridges over wide rivers; it tunnels under great mountains; it cuts canals between seas; it binds the earth into one close clasp by its telegraph wires and cables; it weighs the stars; it does wonders. But science, with all its skill, has never yet been able to put life into any dead thing. Much less can science give spiritual life to a dead soul. Christ alone can do this, and whosoever believeth on him hath everlasting life.