IT had been a snowy night, succeeded by a morning of dazzling brightness. Every roof, and tree, and shrub was decked in radiant white; and not a spot or blemish appeared to interfere with the pure beauty of the scene. Mud and mire, dead branch and withered leaf, brick and stone, thatch and hedge, ditch and stream, were all hidden beneath the crisp mantle that shone sparkling and beautiful in the beams of the morning sun. “Cold, cold as Lapland, Norah!” said a gentleman, looking out from the door of a pretty cottage, which stood in the midst of the snowy landscape; “but it will not hurt you, if you are well wrapped up.” And forth he stepped, accompanied by a young lady, enveloped in a warm, furred cloak. “What a morning for the wedding,” she exclaimed, with a shiver; “but oh, how beautiful how exquisitely beautiful! Look, there is not a particle of winter’s gloom left upon a single thing; the very ends of the leafless sprays are hung with icy diamonds. It is almost a pity to step upon this pure, lovely carpet; but — I must beg you to wait a moment, dear uncle, I have dropped my handkerchief; it lies at the door there. Dear, dear, what a dirty thing! I must run back for another; this cannot be the right one.” She presently returned, saying, “Yes, it is the handkerchief I had laid ready; but it looked such a strange color. I thought I had made a mistake.” “I hope you have not made a worse mistake, and put on a dirty gown, Norah,” said her uncle, gravely “you know it will be a bright and gay assemblage at our friend’s this morning.” Norah was greatly disconcerted, for her dress looked something like pale, dirty yellow. But after gazing a moment in vexed surprise, her countenance brightened again. “Oh, now I know what it is” she cried. “Don’t you see, my dear uncle, that everything pretending to whiteness must look discolored upon the dazzling snow, which not even the smoke of the cottage chimney has yet presumed to defile. My dress will look well enough among the rest, I doubt not; but how very stupid I was not to perceive what made my poor handkerchief look so badly!” “Oh, is that it?” replied her uncle, drily; “then come along. We shall see presently whether your laundress is at fault or not; but I hope you will not look conspicuously dirty.” Norah laughed gaily as she replied that no texture, nor soap, nor skill could produce anything to bear a moment’s comparison with the whiteness of new-fallen snow.
By this time they had reached their destination, which was at a short distance; and the good uncle presently saw his niece mingling with the happy group of young friends, as fair and elegant as any of them.
“Well, dear uncle,” she said, as they met at home after the enjoyments of the day were over,” did you notice any peculiarity in the color of my dress, after all your misgivings upon its cleanliness?” “Nothing very different from those of the whole party, my dear, I thought you all looked dirty together, in comparison with the dazzling purity of the scene outside the house.” “It really was a most unfortunate morning for showing off our white bridal costume in procession; but I never thought you would have taken so much notice of us, nor have cared so much how I looked, dear uncle.” “I notice and care about everything that concerns you, my child; and being invited to another bridal party, which I wish you to attend, it is important that the apparel in which you are to appear be considered carefully before the time arrives.” “Dear uncle, where can it be? It must indeed be important, for you to think of such a thing as dress.”
“It is the only party at which I am intensely solicitous about your appearance, my precious child,” said he, gazing fondly on the young face that was turned towards him with an expression of doubt and inquiry. “It is to the marriage supper of the Lamb. Is my Norah ready to accompany me there? Has she a robe white and beautiful enough to bear the scrutiny of the royal gaze, when the King comes in to see the guests? It must be whiter than snow, radiant as light, whiter far than fuller on earth can whiten it. Have you such a dress, my child?” “I fear not, uncle,” she said, hesitatingly. “I know I am not holy enough to meet the searching eye of God.” “Then you could not attend that wedding party, Norah, without the certainty of being disowned and rejected by the Bridegroom; for no guest may tarry there in any but the attire which he has himself prescribed.” “I am sincerely anxious to be good, dear uncle. You do not know how often I resolve, and how hard I try to keep my resolutions. I have begun to work for the poor this winter, and to visit them. I give away all I can spare. I teach the children at the school; and all these are right, are they not?” “Quite right, my dear Norah, and tell very well among your fellow-creatures. They are like your white dress, which looked clean enough among those which were no whiter; but which, contrasted with the snow, looked absolutely dirty. Compare your efforts after holiness, your good resolutions, your right actions that you have just named, with the pure, spotless righteousness of God, and see how they will look.” “I confess they will look as my cambric handkerchief did upon the new-fallen snow — like dirty rags.” “Most true, dear Norah. Then we must give up the hope of spinning this bridal garment out of our own good deeds, must we not? Nothing we can produce is fit to present before God as a title to acceptance for the future, or in atonement for the past. Left to ourselves, we are in sorry plight for the summons to the great presence-chamber of the King of kings. Yet appear we must, to joy and blessedness, or to woe and shame forever. Have you ever thought of this, or is such a solemn theme distasteful to you?” “It is interesting to me now, my dear, kind uncle, from the manner in which you have introduced it, and I desire much to learn all you will teach me but I know such thoughts have been too often dismissed as dull and intrusive, and therefore my heart cannot be easily touched with the love of God. Tell me how I may hope to be with you among the accepted guests.” “There is a robe, dear child — a robe of surpassing beauty — ready for all who, casting aside every other, really desire to be covered with it. It is a costly robe, yet a free gill. In one word, it is Christ himself — “Christ our Righteousness,” in whom all who believe are acceptable to God. To believe in him, to appropriate him under a consciousness of our own utter helplessness and sinfulness, as having put away our sins by His precious blood, is to be saved. It is to array ourselves in the dress that will stand the most searching scrutiny, that will shine in spotless beauty forever.
Thus clad, we may sing with the prophet, ‘I will greatly rejoice in the Lord, my soul shall be joyful in my God: for he hath clothed me with the garments of salvation; he hath covered me with the robe of righteousness.’ This was Paul’s desire; to be ‘found in Christ, not having his own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith.’ Do you at all understand this, Norah?” “I think I do a little, dear uncle. It means that we must hide ourselves, as it were, in another, and that only other the Son of God, so that when God looks on us in Christ, he sees nothing of ours, but only Christ’s perfection. Is that the meaning?” “It is, my dear girl. Only let your heart clasp what your reason apprehends, and you will be robed as I desire; but it is ‘with the heart man believeth unto righteousness.’ No creed, no theory, however scriptural, can make this righteousness our own. God bestows, and man is to receive salvation. Then the bestower is honored.” “I see,” said Norah thoughtfully; “I see that I have made a great mistake for a long time past; and perhaps other young people may be doing the same. I thought that by trying to do good, and to keep my mind from wicked thoughts, and by being kind to the poor, God would be pleased with me; and if I did unfortunately do wrong yesterday, I would make up for it by increased goodness to-day.” “You are not the first little Pharisee who has tried that plan, my Norah; it is the religion of the natural heart.
But it is in God’s book alone we find ‘the way, the truth, and the life.’ You cannot, by a life of penitence and tears, blot out the guilt of one single sin. The description of the redeemed is this: they have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.’ Of the Lamb’s wife it is said, ‘To her was granted that she should be arrayed in fine linen, clean and white; for the fine linen is the righteousness of saints.’ See how the snow has covered up all the impurities and deformities of the objects on which it has fallen; so does the righteousness of God, imputed to us” (1 Cor. 1:3030But of him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemption: (1 Corinthians 1:30)).
“But one thing more, and I have enough to think upon at present. Tell me, uncle, if we cannot make ourselves acceptable to God, where is the use of those good works to which we are exhorted so earnestly?” “They are the good fruit of the good tree, Norah. I did not say that they are not acceptable when they are the fruit of the Spirit. On the contrary, everything done for the love and honor of God’s dear Son, is not only acceptable, but rewarded. Even the most insignificant action, arising from the right motive, shall not lose its reward. But if done as a ground of merit, a plea for pardon, a bargain-making with an offended God, a million of good works are utterly vain in his sight. As the fruit on the tree, as the flower on the stem, good actions, sweet tempers, gentle words, kind charities, should abound to honor God, to bless our fellows, and adorn ourselves; but the richer the fruit, the more fragrant the flower — the less you will find it depended on by him who bears it, and the dearer is that spotless righteousness, the sweeter that lovely name, that is reposed on for every hope, and pleaded for every mercy, which cheers the just man’s brightening path to glory. Now, good night, my Norah. Forget not the bridal-day of God’s chosen people, and seek that beautiful attire which will out-dazzle the sun in his strength, and cast into shade even the white purity of new-fallen snow.” —Slightly altered from, “The Rothsay Monthly Visitor.”