Nobody is without Jesus in the world.
Even the lost in hell are suffering less than they should have suffered, because of the ubiquity of His powerful Blood.
Yet there are some nations who are so far without him, as to have no saving knowledge of him. Alas! there are still heathen lands in this fair world.
There are tribes and nations who worship sticks and stones, who make gods of the unseen devils, who tremble before the powers of nature as if they were at once almighty and malicious, or who live in perpetual fear of the souls of the dead.
There are some, whose sweetest social relations are embittered by the terrors and panics of their own false religions; and the innocent sunshine of delightful climates is not unfrequently polluted by human sacrifices.
Yet these people dwell in some of the loveliest portions of man’s inheritance. Amidst the savage sylvan sublimities of the Rocky Mountains, on the eastern declivities of the magnificent Andes, in the glorious gorges of the Himalayas, in the flowery coral-islands of the Pacific, or in those natural Edens laved by the warm seas of the Indian archipelago, human life is made inhuman by the horrors of a false religion.
From the spirit of lies and incredulity, by Thy Precious Blood delivers us O Jesus.