O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?…
There is nothing proposed by men that can do anything like this gospel. The religion of Ralph Waldo Emerson is the philosophy of icicles; the religion of Theodore Parker was a sirocco of the desert covering up the soul with dry sand; the religion of Renan is the romance of believing nothing; the religion of Thomas Carlyle is only a condensed London fog; the religion of the Huxleys and the Spencers is merely a pedestal on which human philosophy sits shivering in the night of the soul, looking up to the stars, offering no help to the nations that crouch and groan at the base. Tell me where there is one man who has rejected that gospel for another, who is thoroughly satisfied, and helped, and contented in his scepticism, and I will take the ear tomorrow and ride five hundred miles to see him.
(T. De Witt Talmage.)
Parallel VersesKJV: O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?