Behold the Creeping Worm by Thomas
Guthrie Behold the creeping worm. It is bred in corruption. It
crawls on the ground. Its food is the coarsest fare. But in time, it undergoes its
wonderful metamorphosis. This wriggling caterpillar becomes
a winged and painted butterfly, and at this change, along with
its old skin, it casts off its old habits and instincts. Now
it has a will as well as wings to fly. Now its bed is the bosom
of a flower, Its food is the honeyed nectar, Its home is the
sunny air, And new instincts animate its frame. The change
within corresponds to the change without. It now spurns the ground,
and, as you may gather from its merry, mazy dance, the creature
is happy, and delights in the new duties which it is called
to perform. Just so it is in that change
which grace works in sinners. Their nature is now so accommodated
to their redeemed state. Their wishes are so fitted to
their wants. Their hopes are so fitted to
their prospects. Their aspirations are so fitted
to their honors, and their will is so fitted to their work, that
they would be less content to return to their old, polluted
pleasures, than the beautiful butterfly would desire to be
stripped of its silken wings, and condemned to pass its days
amid the old, foul garbage, its former food.