,1 
 
BV 4501 .S282 1865 
 Savage, Sarah Chauncey. 
 Manoah 
 
MANOAH: 
 
 on. 
 
 iromisc of lire JEife that iioiu is. 
 
 Mrs. 3a.a.',-, CJr: . . C 
 
 •«x d-e_ 
 
 Bv THE AUTHOR or 
 
 THE FORMATION OF CHRISTIAN BELIEF," "THE RIGHT 
 
 USE OF SPEECH," Ac. 
 
 Surely thy sweet and wondrous love 
 Shall measure all my days ; 
 
 And as it never shall remove, 
 So neither shall my praise. 
 
 GEoncE Herbert. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA; 
 
 GEORGE W. CHILDS, BOOKSELLER AND PUBLISHER, 
 
 Nos. 62S AND 633 Chestnut Street. 
 18G5. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by 
 
 GEORGE W. GUILDS, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 Eastern District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 HENRY B. ASHMEAD, BOOK AND JOB PRINTER, 
 Xo3. 1102 and 1101 Sansom Street. 
 
MANOAH; 
 
 PROMISE OF THE LIFE THAT NOW IS. 
 
 '' Godliness," saith the Scripture, " is profitable 
 imto all things, having promise of the life that now 
 is, and of that which is to come." With reirarcl to 
 the life that is to come, the promise is to be viewed 
 only in its general tenor. Relating to a totally 
 different sphere and mode of existence, it cannot 
 furnish a precise account of the conditions which 
 it announces. It simply sets before us the bless- 
 ing and the curse, — on the one side, entire ex- 
 emption from evil and attainment to the highest 
 intelligence and happiness ; on the other, incal- 
 
4 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 culable increase of sufferin,!!; and irrecoverable 
 and continuous moral declension. The figurative 
 presentment of the future state is adapted to human 
 conceptions, and, according to the intention of such 
 language, gives shape and substance to abstract or 
 purely spiritual thought. An affluent yet familiar 
 imagery affords not so much a description as a 
 standard of comparison whereby to estimate the 
 blessedness of heaven. Pure gold and precious 
 stones, white raiment, the crown and the harp, 
 unfadinii' light and livimr fountains, assure us that 
 all that w^e can apprehend of beauty and delight, 
 of dignity and permanence, pertains to the abode 
 and being of those wdiose names are written in the 
 Lamb's book of life. 
 
 As it regards the life that now is, the promise 
 is more susceptible of examination. AVe are per- 
 mitted to ascertain not only its import but its 
 minutest application. The Scripture declares the 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 
 
 profitableness of godliness, states in what it con- 
 sists, and exhibits God's dealings with those who 
 are his children not bv creation only, but by re- 
 generation and adoption. In all time the fulfilment 
 of the promise is discernible. But it must often 
 be traced through dissimilar appearances and dis- 
 connected operations and effects, and with no small 
 hinderance of careless observation and imperfect 
 apprehension on the part of Christians themselves. 
 Not without reason may they sometimes be deemed 
 ignorant of the true objects of desire, and of what 
 constitutes the promise which they profess to ap- 
 preciate and claim. 
 
 Scripture promise or assurance concerning our 
 present or eternal state, is of the nature of a cove- 
 nant. It is God's announcement that on the per- 
 formance of certain conditions he will bestow cer- 
 tain benefits. The knowledge of God and of his 
 requirements is essential to the entertainment of 
 
6 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 the promise because essential to the intelligent 
 consideration of its provisions. The means of 
 acquaintance with God are dudy of the Scrip- 
 fures and prayer. With each of these is connected 
 a special and spiritual influence. Each method is 
 dependent on the other. With fuller perception 
 of God as he is revealed in his word, there must 
 be an increasing sense of personal concernment 
 in his declarations and an increasing desire of ap- 
 plication to him. Prayer is based on the repre- 
 sentations of God contained in the Bible, on the 
 modes of approach therein indicated, on the hopes 
 therein provided of answer and acceptance. It is 
 not simply recognition of God as Creator and 
 Ruler, nor petition for the supply of our wants. 
 It is a means of acquiring spiritual wisdom which 
 God has appointed and distinguished. It exer- 
 cises a reflex action, but that is subordinate to its 
 use as a medium of Divine communication. If the 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. ( 
 
 Christian obtains a right understanding of prayer, 
 he is instructed not only as to his present character 
 and condition, but also as to the relations, capa- 
 bilities, and needs which connect him for ever with 
 God and a purely spiritual existence. To know 
 these, is to be persuaded of the reasonableness of 
 godliness, and to estimate aright the promise af- 
 forded to such a habit of mind and life. 
 
 No Christian duty, perhaps, has been more 
 discussed, illustrated, and enforced, than that of 
 prayer. As a theory, prayer occupies a prominent 
 position in the theological system. From the ex- 
 istence and sovereignty of a Creator are immedi- 
 ately deduced the relation and obligation of the 
 creature. Prayer is an expression or confession 
 of this relation, and of all that it includes. It is 
 intercourse with God. It is a voice out of the 
 silence of material creation asking for explanation 
 of what is, for direction as to what is to be done. 
 
O PROMISE OF THE 
 
 The mind untaught by Ilevelation may perceive 
 the truth in part by the things which are marie, 
 understanding by them eternal power and God- 
 head. If it glorifies this power as God, and is 
 thankful for the gifts of the visible creation, it 
 performs the act of prayer. 
 
 The subject of prayer is presented with remark- 
 able fulness in both the history and the doctrine of 
 the Bible. Some scriptural commands are com- 
 paratively obscure. Many particulars connected 
 with the required performance are omitted in the 
 precept. The motive is exhibited rather than the 
 mode. But the duty of prayer, though partly 
 contingent as to time, attitude, and expression, is 
 so definitely presented that neither perplexity nor 
 misapprehension is possible. We are commanded 
 and entreated to pray. We are to pray humbly 
 and to pray boldly. We are to pray in season — 
 at the convenient and appointed times, and out of 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 9 
 
 season — at the times ordinarily otherwise employ- 
 ed. We are to pray in joy and in sorrow, alone 
 and in company, in our own house, and in the 
 house of God. We may pray with lifted voices, 
 or, like Hannah, speaking in our hearts. No 
 human eye may behold the moving of our lips, no 
 sound fall from them on human ear, but God un- 
 derstandeth our thought afar off. We cannot 
 pray too often. Importunity is effective with the 
 selfish friend and the unjust judge. God, both 
 bountiful and righteous, sometimes grants to the 
 one asking, opens to the one knocking ; or, if he 
 sees fit to "bear long" and allow his elect to cry 
 day and night to him, in his own time he will 
 avenge them speedily. We can never be wuthout 
 hope that he will hear us ; nor, so broad is the 
 sphere, so multiform the mode of his operation, 
 can we perhaps ever decide with certainty that 
 he has not heard us. Prayer is the first Christian 
 
10 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 act of the child, and the saint's last exercise of 
 faith and love. Prayer is the first step in conver- 
 sion, for it is a moving of the soul toward God 
 when it discovers in him its only safety and 
 help. The Christian is often in the attitude 
 of prayer, but the minutes thus passed give 
 small account of his praying life. His thoughts 
 are of God in observation of his ways, in acknow- 
 ledgment of his benefits, in desires for greater 
 nearness to him and for the extension of his rule; 
 and this communion with God, though not always 
 in the form, is the essence, the spirit, of prayer. 
 That is a low view of prayer which restricts it to 
 the morning and evening exercise, the reverential 
 posture, and the setting forth of the more pressing 
 necessities of the body and soul. Perhaps we do 
 not make too bold a statement when we say that 
 the Christian lives never any other life than that of 
 prayer. It is with him an o.hvays hearing about 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 11 
 
 in the hody the dying of the Lord Jesus, and the 
 blessed working is that in that bodj' the life also 
 of Jesus is made manifest. '• My presence shall go 
 with thee, and I will give thee rest," is the promise 
 that the Christian proves, and in his spiritual pro- 
 gress that presence becomes the only good that 
 he craves without qualification. That presence 
 enlightens, comforts, sanctifies him ; and what, 
 except its ever fuller indwelling, is there left for 
 him to obtain or desire? ''^Absence from the 
 iwesence of God r — exclaimed a dying Christian : — 
 "that is the greatest evil of the universe! that 
 makes the misery of hell !" No less does absence 
 from God constitute the misery of earth. It is the 
 single condition which includes all other suffering 
 and sin. 
 
 In the account of the parents of Samson given 
 in the thirteenth chapter of Judges, we find 
 several thoughts which have become familiar to 
 
12 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 the Christian inquirer, but to whicli the mode of 
 statement here employed seems to communicate a 
 special force. Taken together, they afford both val- 
 uable suggestions in relation to prayer and a body 
 of instruction with regard to the an-m'cr to prayer, 
 /. e., the dealings of God with his people, and the 
 fulfilment of that portion of the two-fold promise 
 of godliness which refers to the life that now is. 
 These thoughts put in the form of propositions, 
 are : — 
 
 Prayer for spiritual instruction and direction has 
 prevailing poiver : 
 
 Scripture gives encouragement to pray with refer- 
 ence to the small interests of life, or such as are often 
 considered unsuitable subjects of jJetition : 
 
 God's past dealings are a ground of consolation 
 and confident expectation. 
 
 Let us follow for a time the line of meditation 
 which is thus pointed out. 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 13 
 
 PRAYER FOR SPIRITUAL INSTRUCTION AND DIRECTION 
 HAS PREVAILING POWER. 
 
 In that part of the book of Judges which 
 gives the life of Samson, we read that it was com- 
 municated to Manoah, an Israelite, that he would 
 be the father of a son dedicate to God unto the 
 day of his death. The first recorded act of Manoah 
 was to entreat the Lord for a fuller manifestation 
 of his purpose and for minute direction with regard 
 to the new obligations : — " my Lord, let the man 
 of God which thou didst send come again unto us, 
 and teach us what we shall do unto the child that 
 shall be born." To this petition, which was in ac- 
 cordance with his will and prompted by the desire 
 to establish his designs, God " hearkened," and 
 sent again his angel to repeat and confirm the 
 previous announcement. 
 
 It appears from this account, as from numer- 
 
14 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 ous portions of Scripture, that if .1 confident 
 hope may be entertained of the acceptance of 
 prayer, it is when the spiritual necessity has been 
 proposed rather than the natural, the fulfilment of 
 God's plans and the spread of his kingdom, rather 
 than the gratification of earthly desires. The 
 Christian, it is true, has ample warrant to seek the 
 supply of his bodily needs. " Give us this day 
 our daily bread," is divine sanction for frequent 
 requests in reference to the requirements of the 
 present condition. " Your Father knoweth that 
 ye have need of these things," is intimation of the 
 disposition of a just as well as merciful Being to 
 regard the wants of which he is fully cognizant. 
 Largely, indeed, does he bestow the treasures of 
 his bounty without entreaty and without acknow- 
 ledgment. On a world of ignorant, careless, and 
 thankless men he causes his sun to shine and his 
 rain to descend. Air, light, and water, the earth 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 15 
 
 bringing forth grass, and herb, and fruit tree, the 
 h'ohts in the firmament of the heaven which are 
 for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years, 
 the moving creature that hath hfe, and the fowl 
 that fly above the earth, are his provision alike 
 for the evil and the good. As wonderful are the 
 mechanism and beauty of the frame which con- 
 tains the fallen soul unrecovered by the great sal- 
 vation, as of that which contains the soul renewed 
 in the image of God and destined to glorify and 
 enjoy him forever. Many blessings, in addition 
 to the more ordinary, are obtained without special 
 petition. But to a degree the gift is contingent, 
 or, at least, is not to be expected or claimed apart 
 from a mentioned condition : — '' all these things 
 shall be added unto you." But how added? What 
 must precede this provision of food and drink, this 
 exemption from anxiety as to the body ? " Seek 
 ye the kingdom of God." Ascertain your rela- 
 
16 TROMISE OF THE 
 
 tions to your Maker, and form on them your 
 theory of life and of eternity. The body is an 
 excellent creation, and more excellent in that it 
 is temporarily conjoined to the soul. Commit it 
 as to its essential and accidental necessities to the 
 care of its Creator. It is the less which is included 
 in the greater, and while there is a promise to the 
 less, to the greater it is repeated, explicit, and 
 abundant. But it is conveyed in covenant only. 
 Ask, is the stipulation; it shall be (/tven, is the satis- 
 faction. Jf ?/e abide in vie and my ivords abide in you, 
 is the condition ; ye shall ask tvhat ye will, and it 
 shall be done unto yoiu is the ratification. So the 
 Apostle Paul, speaking concerning spiritual gifts, 
 exhorts to covet them earnestly, constraining the 
 inference that they may be obtained. 
 
 Christian, do you need additional warrant or 
 encouragement to apply confidently for spiritual 
 blessings ? Perhaps you are at the beginning of 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 17 
 
 your course and scarcely cnll yourself a Christian. 
 You are disposed to inquire into a subject in rela- 
 tion to which you have been hitherto ignorant, and, 
 for the most part, indifferent. You have been in- 
 duced to examine the gospel system of truth and 
 to test its application to yourself by some half ac- 
 knowledged fear of the future — that future of cer- 
 tain sorrow, sickness, death, and eternity ; by the 
 opinions or example of your dearest friend ; by the 
 conviction that Christianity is the best safeguard 
 of morals and enforcer of law, and therefore must 
 have an inherent worth ; by a severe affliction or 
 an unexpected blessing — for fall often by the latter 
 does God bring to him his straying and heedless 
 children. Oh that we could understand all mys- 
 teries of your temperament and condition, all know- 
 ledge that could remove the hinderance and give 
 impulse to your progress, and that, with the tongue 
 of an angel and the heart of all-believing, all-hoping 
 
18 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 love, we could persuade you to begin at once the 
 practice of prayer and the careful study of God's 
 ■word ! Some defer the adoption of such a plan of 
 life until they have looked farther into the matter, 
 and have come to a decision as to the reasonable- 
 ness of the attitude of submission and docility. 
 We do not undervalue in any degree the body of 
 evidence which upholds our faith, nor Avould we 
 urge you to cease from investigation of any kind 
 that may diminish your perplexity and confirm 
 your Avavering purpose. But we would have you 
 prosecute it by divine rather than human guid- 
 ance. Do not cavil at this view nor urge that it 
 is an assuming of the question. " There is logic," 
 said a sceptic to us, " in every system but the Chris- 
 tian ;" and perhaps he was right, judging by his 
 own narrow theory which views logic as the art 
 rather than, in its most extensive application, the 
 science of reasoning. It is not always by syllo- 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 19 
 
 gistic process that we arrive at the conclusion of 
 a Christian argument; and synthetic and analytic 
 methods, though working out the most perfect de- 
 duction, are in the Christian system applied, com- 
 l>ined, and interchanged, after a fashion anomalous 
 in human philosophy. To know your Creator and 
 his requirements, is your strongest obligation. 
 Enter at once on the course of life to which it 
 confines you. Perform your obvious and nearest 
 duties, and trust God for help as to the more diffi- 
 cult. It was perhaps at this point that Jehosh- 
 aphat, king of Judah, stood, when Jehu concluded 
 his reproof of him with this commendation : "Never- 
 theless, there are good things found in thee in that 
 thou hast taken away the groves out of the land, 
 and liast prepared thine heart to seek Godr There 
 seems scarcely a distinction between preparing 
 to seek God and seeking him, yet the phrase of 
 Jehu had its meaning, and conveys a most in- 
 
20 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 structive truth. There is a strong analogy between 
 the development of Christian and that of fdial 
 obedience and love. The child, imperfect in per- 
 ception and comprehension, cannot with his whole 
 intelligent nature assent and consent to parental 
 principles and laws. But when convinced of the 
 wisdom and goodness of the parent, he can render 
 complete submission to the parent's will in what- 
 ever manner it may be made known. Whensoever 
 or howsoever the new birth occurs, the Christian 
 must pass through a period of spiritual in^incy ; and 
 God, who knoweth our frame, requires of the babe 
 in Christ but to rest helplessly on him — to lean, and 
 love, and wait, until the hands are strong to do his 
 work, and the feet swift to run in the Avay of his 
 commandments. A certain effort is to be put 
 forth, even "as a child that is weaned of his 
 mother " hehaves and quiets itself But in the 
 " great matters," the " things too high," not only 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 21 
 
 of Divine counsel but of Christian experience, the 
 new disciple is not expected to exercise himself. 
 There is a point at which the analogy fails between 
 natural and Christian development. Infancy in 
 the one case passes altogether and gives place to 
 the self-reliance and independence of manhood ; in 
 the other, it passes only as to its absolute ignor- 
 ance and feebleness. Its privileges of support 
 and protection remain. Its innocence, its submis- 
 siveness, its love, increase with increasing know- 
 ledge and strength. Show to us the man most 
 fiiithful in work and most holy in person, and in 
 him we will show you the man most humble and 
 docile, most distrustful of self and dependent on 
 God. •' I have never been able in my prayer, " 
 said one known and praised in the church, " to get 
 much beyond, 'God be merciful to me a sinner!'" 
 If thus, Christian, you prepare your heart to 
 seek God, alread}^ you have entered on his service. 
 
22 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 While you are calling, he answers ; while you are 
 seeking, he is found of you. Do not perplex your- 
 self as to the quality or quantity of your prayer. 
 Be not discouraged if there are dark sayings and 
 hard questions in the Holy Scriptures. The matter 
 lies in a nutshell. You know that you have sinned. 
 You perceive that with a tendency to what is 
 good — now and then a gleam of light, there is 
 a more prevailing tendency to evil, and a settled 
 darkness upon your spiritual understanding. That 
 which your consciousness and experience declare, 
 you find confirmed in the history of mankind. In 
 all ages and nations, men have been characterized 
 by the same evil passions and purposes. It is ever 
 the same play with different performers. Confess 
 then to God, the Father of your body and spirit, that 
 you have sinned. Ask for the mercy which you need. 
 Examine your relations to the family and to the 
 world. If you indulge in any open sin, refrain from 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. Zo 
 
 it. If you omit any evident duty, set yourself to 
 its performance. Look into the Bible to find the 
 rule of your life and your hope of heaven. Per- 
 seA^erc in this course, and in time you will say 
 with all who have made this venture — if we may 
 use the distrustful word — of their temporal and 
 spiritual interests, " God is the Lord which hath 
 shewed us light :" " Thou, Lord, hast made me 
 glad through thy work :" '' Return unto thy rest, 
 my soul; for the Lord hath dealt bountifully 
 with thee." 
 
 You may be one of those who bear the Chris- 
 tian name, but who seem never to attain to Chris- 
 tian liberty and peace. William Jay describes 
 you as " always in darkness and alarms, among 
 thorns and briers, always murmuring and com- 
 plaining, having religion enough to make you 
 miserable, but not enough to make you happy." 
 From your earliest Christian consciousness some 
 
24 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 Aveakness or defect has hindered your spiritual 
 growth, and seems to you irremediable because it 
 is inherited or dependent on physical organization. 
 Some habit clings as closely as the shirt of Nessus 
 adhered to the fabled hero, and almost as hurtfully 
 to your moral being. Of a fearful and desponding 
 temperament, you combat with spiritual foes largely 
 at a disadvantage. You are ever forming resolu- 
 tions and lamenting that you have broken them. 
 Your conscience is sensitive, even scrupulous, and 
 3^ou are, as James Alexander expresses it, 'panic- 
 strucJc in view of the standard which it sets for 
 you. You bring your tithes and your offerings, 
 and neglect not weightier matters of the law. But 
 it all seems to little purpose. You are ready to 
 say, It is vain to serve God : and what profit is it 
 that I have kept his ordinance, and that I have 
 walked mournfully before the Lord of hosts ? The 
 Christian life is to vou a dreary and rugged road 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 25 
 
 instead of a way of pleasantness and a path of 
 peace. It is ever self and law to which you look. 
 There is in your case no intelligent, voluntary sub- 
 mission to gospel injunction, no obedience of loA^e; 
 or, rather, there is none of that love which in its 
 eager desire of service outstrips obedience, and in 
 its longing to attain unto God bethinks itself little 
 of waymarks and boundaries, and counts as nothing 
 the weariness and dangers of the course. 
 
 Or, you are troubled with theoretical doubts 
 which your investigation so fjir has neither dis- 
 posed of, nor confirmed into scepticism. Dimly 
 perceiving the light of Revelation, you stumble 
 and stagger in the path of gospel precept, and while 
 you do not dare, do not desire indeed to cast aside 
 Christian obligation, there is a writhing of your 
 whole nature under its bonds. You evince an in- 
 creasing disposition to question and dispute, to re- 
 nounce long-received principles and remove the 
 3 
 
26 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 ancient landmarks, to propose private interpret- 
 ations — in a word, to loan to your own understand- 
 ing, and make a creed for yourself instead of finding 
 it in the word of God. Laudably zealous in strip- 
 ping off the last rag of superstition, you sometimes 
 make sad inroad into the decent garment of faith. 
 But amidst all this unbelief, pride, impatience, and 
 self-will, you are conscious of a great want, a real 
 perplexity, an honest desire to get wisdom — "the 
 principal thing," yea, of a cry of your whole soul 
 after knowledge, and a lifting up of your voice 
 for understanding, a searching for her as for hid 
 treasures. 
 
 With tolerably clear views of truth and abil- 
 ity to apply it satisfactorily, you are unsteady and 
 light minded, anxious only about your final safety, 
 not about your Christian faithfulness and progress. 
 You have never allowed your conviction to become 
 a habit of thought, and to affect and consecrate 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 27 
 
 both your spiritual and your physical being. 
 Your religion is one of days, and ordinances, and 
 forms. It is that of early instruction, undeveloped 
 by individual processes and a continual abiding 
 under the life-giving ray and ever-refreshing dew 
 of gospel precept. It is the religion of those around 
 you — their ordinary expression and average at- 
 tainment. You do not altogether neglect your 
 Bible nor restrain prayer. But you read with 
 little attention and less application, then put aside 
 the book and the teaching along with it. You 
 pray with an unprepared mind, and repeat by 
 rote, if not always the words, the thoughts of 
 your petition. Entreaty for the continuation of 
 your life and that of your friends, for the supply 
 of your daily wants, for the forgiveness of your 
 sins, without special acknowledgment or contrition, 
 and for safe conduct to heaven, constitutes the 
 whole of your communion with your God. Day 
 
28 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 by day you address the greatest Being in the uni- 
 verse — your Parent, your Ruler, your Judge, and 
 are never quickened into more earnest thought or 
 deeper emotion. Partly from a sense of duty, 
 partly from natural kindliness, you give freely of 
 your money, and perhaps of your time and efforts, 
 to relieve the necessities of your felloAv-men. You 
 recognize fully the ethics of Christianity, and sub- 
 mit wilhngly to many of its restraints. You may 
 even be rigid in your construction of certain rules 
 of practice which are variously interpreted in all 
 Christian communities, and which would seem 
 moveable — not non-essential, but contingent as to 
 their precise character, and applicable without 
 modification only to the motive and spirit of the 
 acts to which they refer. Yet, very apparently to 
 others and consciously to yourself, you lack some- 
 thing. Growth in grace ; fellowship with the 
 Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ; boldness and 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 29 
 
 access with confidence by the faith of him; strength- 
 ening with might by his Spirit in the inner man ; 
 the hope as an anchor of the sonl both sure and 
 steadfast, the peace which passeth all understand- 
 ing: — these and like precious and fiiithful descrip- 
 tions of Christian privilege and attainment you 
 find abundantly supplied in Scripture, and often as 
 evidence of discipleship, but to you they are things 
 hard to be understood, and that hitherto have 
 furmed no part of your experience. In the Christian 
 course you find yourself so slowly brought for- 
 ward that you sometimes ask, with most reason- 
 able apprehension, How^ am 1 to reach heaven at 
 last? 
 
 Your want is not prominently personal. You 
 earnestly desire the conversion of others, and by 
 this often unsatisfied longing you are tempted to 
 distrust and despondency, perhaps even to mur- 
 muring and rebellion. You are a minister of the 
 
 3* 
 
30 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 gospel, and have spoken the word faithfully to 
 your people — that Avord which is like a hammer 
 that breaketh the rock in pieces. You have taught 
 them not only by preaching, but by incessant 
 effort of self consecration, of individual appeal, 
 of sympathy with their trouble, of patience 
 with their ignorance and slowness to believe, and 
 of meekness under their injurious language or con- 
 duct. In all these things your heart condemns 
 
 you not, but they have not hearkened to receive 
 instruction. If there is any result of your toil, it 
 is so imperfect or unapparent, so little in propor- 
 tion to your striving and desire, that you are ready 
 to conclude that the Lord restrains you in this 
 way of usefulness, and will no longer be entreated 
 of you as to the matter. But you cannot forbear. 
 His word is unto you the joy and rejoicing of 
 your heart : it is as a burning fire shut up in your 
 bones, and with the prophet you must still cry. 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 31 
 
 '• Lord God, cease, I beseech thee : by -whom 
 shall Jacob arise ? for he is small." Or, as a 
 private Christian, your present solicitude is for 
 the spiritual welfare of some individual. His 
 turn of mind, his course of life are wholly averse 
 from gospel doctrine. No carefid, discrimina- 
 ting selection of modes to approach him, no ten- 
 derness, watchfulness, or forbearing, has as yet 
 seemed to produce any effect. He remains un- 
 convinced by your reasoning, untouched by your 
 silence and gentleness, unmoved by your fervent 
 appeal or upright example. Your faith staggers, 
 and dares not the toilsome path of hoping, perse- 
 vering, yet deferred petition. Has God forgotten 
 to be gracious ? Is this poor soul, so precious to 
 you, the life of your life perhaps, of no account 
 in the Divine calculation ? 
 
 We might multiply indefinitely cases of spiritual 
 want. What should we do but declare that every- 
 
32 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 Avliere there is conscious need with perception, more 
 or less perfect, of possible supply. Suffering friend, 
 in the instances adduced, you crave, either for 
 yourself or others, a benefit which is closely con- 
 nected with the glory of God and the spread of 
 his dominion. You discern in yourself, along with 
 sinfulness and helplessness, a desire to increase in 
 the knowledge of God and to refer all your inter- 
 ests to his care and control. It is the frame of 
 mind which he approves and which his w^ord and 
 providence are designed to produce. Large as 
 may be your request, small the present grace, and 
 beyond all seeming possibility the desired attain- 
 ment, your hope should not fail, seeing that it is 
 for a good concerning which God Avill be inquired 
 of and which he has promised freely to impart, 
 though he make not known the counsel of his will 
 in reference to you. In nothing is the promise 
 more full than with regard to spiritual blessings. 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 33 
 
 In proportion to your reliance on God, to the looking 
 unto Jcsns, which, some one remarks, might be the 
 motto for every hour, to your petition for wisdom 
 and succor against temptation, and for a fuller inhab- 
 iting of the Spirit, will be your attainment in 
 these and depending gifts and graces. Zeal, ac- 
 tivity, entireness of consecration, must keep pace 
 with progress in humility and love to God, must 
 increase with increasing perception of the debt we 
 owe to him, and with recognition of his claim to our 
 service. There is no remedy for faint-heartedness 
 like nearness to God and the ai^plication to him 
 which is fervent from a sense of your want, which 
 is hopeful, not so much from the strength of your 
 desire as from conviction of his iovingkindness and 
 from dependence on his promise. You will take 
 care not to pervert this rising of faith and trust by 
 presuming that all things will work for good to you 
 according to your estimate and desire of good. 
 
PROMISE OF THE 
 
 Havino; confidence in both the rinrhteousness and 
 the mercy of God's dealings, you will endeavor 
 that this confidence be as strong in trouble as 
 in deliverance and prosperity. You will keep 
 before you that it is your part to follow, not, by 
 your own interpretation, to lead Providence in self- 
 proposed arrangements and strong desires, in 
 rashly appropriating precedents and pronouncing 
 as to the preservation of your life and your 
 exemption from evil. Verily, there is in Hol}^ 
 Writ large promise to the righteous of these very 
 benefits and a record of their full communica- 
 tion. But do Ave therefore intrude into God's 
 counsel or limit his operation ? Both sacred and 
 profane history testify that he has showed great 
 and sore troubles unto them that trusted in him 
 and Avalked in the Avay of his commandments. 
 They have gone mourning all their days, and been 
 grievously afflicted and tormented. They have 
 been sick and in prison, hungry, thirsty, and 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 35 
 
 naked. They have wandered on the foee of the 
 earth, been reviled and contemned, yea, stoned, 
 torn asunder, and burned. Like theirs, your dis- 
 cipline and course of preparation to the end of your 
 earthly existence may be through kindling flames 
 and deep waters of trial. But what of that, if the 
 ages of eternity as they pass behold you safe and 
 at peace in God's blissful and glorious presence ? , 
 Then, give thanks always for all things unto 
 God ;— 
 
 "Not thankful when it pleaseth me ; 
 
 But eaeii a heart whose pulse may be t//;6<^-/ 
 
 Thy praise : — 
 
 and how needful as well as reasonable that you 
 should in every thing give thanks, for this is f/ic 
 will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you! Rejoice 
 in the Lord alway : and again I say, rejoice ; — 
 •• the only command," we heard one say, " which 
 I find with such immediate repetition." How 
 plain the duty, how full the sanction, how abund- 
 
36 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 ant the cause of joy in the Lord ! By this cheerful 
 submission to his appointment, this continuing in- 
 stant in prayer, is secured a far more important 
 good than the object of your desire — the highest 
 attainment perhaps that a Christian can propose 
 in his discipleship. It is the habit of glorifying 
 God, — the employment of heaven begun on earth; 
 the magnifying of his wisdom and love above our 
 reasonings and hopes, the accepting of him practic- 
 ally as Ruler and Judge ; and the viewing of self 
 as the creature of his love, the reciijient of his 
 promise, and the object of his faithfulness. Put 
 then far from you that distrust and apprehension 
 which eat into your peace and sap the foundation 
 of your spiritual prosperity. How can you wander 
 if you keep close to God ? How can you exalt 
 yourself if you are ever at his footstool? How 
 can you be alone if his presence go Avith you? 
 How can you fall in following hard after him if 
 his right hand uphold you ? 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 37 
 
 SCRIPTURE GIVES ENCOURAGEMENT TO PRAY WITH REFER- 
 ENCE TO THE SMALL INTERESTS OF LIFE, OR SUCH AS 
 ARE OFTEN CONSIDERED UNSUITABLE SUBJECTS OF PETI- 
 TION. 
 
 The man of God, for whose second appearance 
 Manoah entreated the Lord, having come again 
 when seemingly he was not expected, for " the 
 woman sat in the field, and Manoah her husband 
 was not with her," Manoah proceeds to ask how 
 the parents shall perform their part in accomplish- 
 ing the proposed consecration of their son : — " How 
 shall we order the child, and what shall we do nnto 
 him ?" Confident he must have been, if we may 
 judge from his prayer, from his prompt following of 
 his wife into the presence of the stranger, from the 
 Amen, " Now let thy Avords come to pass," which 
 prefaces the next inquiry, that a wonderful event 
 
 was to occur, though as yet he knew not that it was 
 4 
 
38 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 signified by a heavenly visitant. But with a zeal 
 most worthy of notice to establish the counsel 
 of God, although assured that it could stand 
 without his aid, he seeks the requisite instruc- 
 tion. The training of a child who was to be 
 a Nazarite unto God and to commence the 
 work of delivering Israel out of the hands of the 
 Philistines, was likely to differ from the ordinary 
 method of Jewish education. The angel adds 
 nothing to directions already furnished to the wife, 
 and adapted to enable her to set forward even 
 before his birth the w^ork of her child's separation 
 to a special service. We may fairly derive a les- 
 son from this portion of the account. The training 
 of children begins with the training of parents. If 
 parents obtain a personal fitness and an accurate 
 spiritual instruction, the work of education will 
 prosper. The directions here regard the mother 
 rather than the child ; indeed all concerninc; him 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 39 
 
 is more in the form of prophecy than of specific 
 command, yet " the chihl grew and the Lord bles- 
 sed him." Manoah, grateful for the announcement, 
 asks the name of the messenger that when his 
 sayings come to pass the parents may do him 
 honor, or acknowledge his faithful utterance of the 
 prediction, and recall their joy in prospect of so 
 imlooked-for a blessing and distinction. It was a 
 natural request, the first vent for the full tide of 
 emotion, but the angel withheld the favor : — " Why 
 askest thou thus after my name, seeing it is 
 secret ?" Did he rebuke an otherwise allowable 
 curiosity in order to concentrate all Manoah's 
 thoughts in thankfulness and praise ? " So Ma- 
 noah took a kid with a meat oifering, and offered it 
 upon a rock unto the Lord." Thereupon, the answer 
 to his petition, refused in one form, is afforded in 
 another, and to his fuller instruction and encour- 
 agement. "And the angel did wonderously ; and 
 
40 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 Manoali and his wife looked on. For it came to 
 pass, when the flame went up toward heaven from 
 off the altar, that the angel of the Lord ascended 
 in the flame of the altar. And Manoah and his 
 wife looked on it and fell on their faces to the 
 ground. But the angel of the Lord did no more 
 appear to Manoah and to his wife. Then 3Ianoah 
 Jcnetv ihaf he tvas an angel of the Loniy The name 
 which he had asked after was '' secret," /. ^., Won- 
 derful, incommunicable, yea, incomprehensible by 
 human intelligence ; and the divine nature and 
 authority of the Angel-Jehovah were declared by 
 a marvellous w^ork. Manoah's conceptions had not 
 embraced all God's purpose in thus making him a 
 conscious and favored agent of a merciful design to- 
 ward the people of Israel. Truly, Manoah had more 
 than he could ask or think. The Lord prevented 
 him with his goodness, and granted him, if not his 
 petition, far more than his desire. He needed not 
 
LIFE THAT NOAV IS. 41 
 
 to tany till the fulfilment of the prediction to do 
 honor to the messenger, for already the sign of 
 the Lord Avas added imto his ^vord. 
 
 It has before been remarked that though the 
 Scripture is most abundant in the promise of 
 spiritual blessings, it supplies ample assurance 
 concerning those of a "purely earthly character. 
 Miracles, as evidence of divine authority, were 
 necessarily for the most part manifest to the sen- 
 ses. There was as great an exercise of power in 
 forgiving sins, as in causing the impotent man to 
 rise, take up his bed, and walk ; but the latter was 
 a visible operation, and clearly discernible in its 
 progress and results. Respecting miracles, it is 
 much to our purpose to note that they were per- 
 formed not only on momentous occasions, but also 
 in reference to needs and perplexities which seem- 
 ingly were of much too small account to become sub- 
 jects of petition to God. Not only did the sun 
 
 4* 
 
42 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 stand still and the moon stay nntil the people of 
 Israel had avenged themselves upon their enemies; 
 not only did the waters of Jordan divide to let 
 Israel pass over dryshod ; not only did the walls 
 of the enemy fjill at the sound of trumpets, and at 
 the bowing with all his might of a man ; not only 
 did darkness cover the earth, rocks rend, and 
 graves open, to attest the finished work of the Re- 
 deemer ; not only was sight restored to the eyes, 
 soundness to the limbs, reason to the mind and 
 life to the dead ; but iron was made to swim, that 
 what was borrowed might ])e returned to the 
 owner; water was made wine for the more bounti- 
 ful entertainment of festive guests ; and a piece of 
 money was found in a fish's mouth that the poor 
 fisherman's tax might be paid, and tribute rendered 
 to whom it was due. 
 
 Let us not forego our privilege and deny our- 
 selves the benefit of precedent thus divinely af- 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 43 
 
 forded and preserved on record ibr our instruction. 
 The mistake is not that we make known too many, 
 but too few, of our requests unto God. He know- 
 etli our frame, and will he not admit the represen- 
 tations and entreaties that arise out of a poverty 
 and helplessness like ours ? In a condition where 
 so many diverse agencies are at work, and not in 
 concert but in permanent antagonism, where the 
 most sustained efforts of our higher intellectual 
 nature are incompetent to elevate us in the scale 
 of being, or to secure to us the means of existence 
 or happiness, how numerous and pressing are our 
 necessities ! How little we apprehend them, how 
 mistaken is our action in reference to them ! The 
 good which would be our individual good, which 
 would best develope and cultivate our nature and 
 form for us the most effective method of working' 
 out our mental and spiritual welfare, — that good we 
 pass by and take in its stead some nominal, self- 
 
44 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 styled good which glitters in a tinsel gaudiness. 
 Even if we know to choose the good, how feeble 
 our instruments, how few our opportunities, how 
 indirect our progress, to attain to it. All things, 
 we conceive, hold a relation to the mind of God 
 different from that which we have established. To 
 him our e-reat things are even as the small — n,'i\- 
 the small, even the contemptible in our eyes, may 
 have been specially set by him to operate as the 
 larger instrumentality. We overlook too much 
 the influence on ourselves of little things. We are 
 not careful enough in our analysis. We dread, and 
 in a measure justly, the dwarfing and dwindling 
 of our mental stature by a continual stoop to ob- 
 serve the phenomena at our feet. We dread that 
 the microscopic adjustment will impair the power 
 of wider survey. But it is the lesson we must 
 l6arn to fix our sight long on no single object, to 
 mark the mote in the sunbeam and the bow in the 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 45 
 
 cloud, the spear of grass by the roadside, and the 
 .star that afar off in the firmament quivers in the 
 fulness of its own light and loveliness. The nnnd 
 fixed to one focus, moving only in a groove, may 
 discern much and work profitably ; but it can never 
 attain to the clearness and activity of that intelli- 
 gence which regards the mean as well as the mighty, 
 which has no limit but its own sphere, no line that 
 will not measure both the lofty and the low. Truth 
 is not always in a corner nor at the bottom of the 
 well, neither does it soar away to tlie heavens and 
 for ever inhabit the mountain tops. Pervading all 
 being, it now bears a message from the bow^els of 
 the earth as to things before the flood, now reveals 
 the secrets of the skies, measures the distance of 
 the heavenly bodies, computes their cycles, de- 
 clares and accounts for the phenomena of the 
 future. Moral truth comes by special revelation 
 from God, is twin-born with all physical discovery. 
 
'IG PROMISE OF THE 
 
 speaks in emphatic tone from the volume of 
 histoiy, or, in still small voice imparts to the 
 individual the lessons of his consciousness and 
 experience. Thus we shall be wise only as we 
 retain the mind of the learner, and accept in- 
 struction from every offered source. It is a vast 
 and rich store-house in which our God has placed 
 us. To explore its chambers and acquire the trea- 
 sure, is an imperative duty as well as one of the 
 highest enjoyments of which the human mind 
 is susceptible. The supply is inexhaustible. Gems 
 of purest ray lie scattered and unappropriated. If 
 our wisdom is derived from objects so close at 
 hand and apparently so valueless as to be over- 
 looked in our search after what is brilliant and 
 elevated, how reasonable that we place a high 
 estimate upon our smaller interests and rid our- 
 selves of the fear of carrying them to God! What 
 we need is the humble, trusting, docile spirit, not 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 4/ 
 
 what Ave ileem the worthy argument or fitting 
 occasion. See how the heart deceives itself! It 
 disclaims for self the plea of merit, but transfers it 
 from self to the occasion. Multitudes of Chris- 
 tians shrink from the seeming incongruity or irrev- 
 erence of asking for things which in proportion they 
 rer[uire as much as they do their daily bread. How 
 few, forexample,pray for relief from ordinary bodily 
 infirmities. We call loudly enough when death 
 threatens, and we return thanks as if we were con- 
 fident that our prayer for deliverance had been 
 henrd. Why may not God regard our less positive 
 need, our familiar and daily trouble, our habitual 
 thorn in the flesh, our consequent unsoundness of 
 mind and diminished opportunity of service ? Wh}- 
 may he not rebuke the personal ailment as well 
 as the pestilence that wasteth a nation ? In any 
 case it is he alone wdio gives skill to ph}' sicians and 
 efficacy to their remedies ; and so long as like Asa, 
 
48 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 king of Judah, we look to them and not to the 
 Lord, so long we may spend our substance and be 
 nothing bettered. 
 
 How few Christians pray in the less important 
 domestic and social changes ! Life, said Mme. de 
 Stael in reference to happiness, shows Ijetter in 
 large portions than in the daily record. So we ^iew 
 it in its moral aspect. The history minutely given 
 of one day, of a day not of the eventful, but of the 
 even tenor of those which make up life, — what is 
 it to the Christian ? Of a life ended you can per- 
 haps say much, even with caution and moderation. 
 You can count up your deeds of charity, your 
 words of kindness, your Sabbaths faithfully ob- 
 served, your hours spent in reading the Scriptures 
 and in prayer, and, be they few or many, the sum 
 will show a general course of honesty, benevolence, 
 and piety. But take at random one of the days 
 which have made up this life, and what is the ac- 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 49 
 
 count which it will be likely to furnish, particu- 
 larl}^ in regard of Christian progress and peace ? 
 How to the faithful liver is each day filled with 
 trials called fetty because they are familiar, with 
 discouragements which would be insignificant in 
 description, but which sicken the soul and palsy 
 every effort ! A chance word, a thoughtless in- 
 terference, an unwelcome claim, a child, a servant, 
 a visiter, may disturb the composure of your mind 
 as well as the order of your plans. A light touch 
 destroysthe balance that youhad adjusted with such 
 pains. The calmness and mental elevation to which 
 in the morning you had attained with such effort 
 of self-examination, contemplation, and prayer, 
 and wdiich you thought would be preserved through 
 the day, have yielded to a feeble, seemingly im- 
 potent assault. You have lost your just gained 
 foothold on the rock, and are tossed about on the 
 sea of your undisciplined feelings and unsound 
 
50 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 judgment. Or, like a stray child, you look around 
 you bewildered and helpless in the world's wilder- 
 ness. And you are a stray child ! Confident in 
 your knowledge of the way, you have withdraw^n 
 from the Father's presence, wandered from the 
 path in which you were set and the thick 
 darkness of absence from the Light of life, now 
 closes around you. The first lesson in Chris- 
 tian service is humility ; fjiith, dependence, zeal, 
 and activity are the second ; and we may not in- 
 vert the order, or we destroy the character and 
 end of Christian performance. Preeminently do 
 the sins of the tongue oppose our progress and heap 
 up occasion for shame and discouragement. You 
 began a discussion in the love of truth and spirit 
 of peace, but pride of opinion and impatience of 
 opposition mixed themselves with the zealous af- 
 fection for a good thing, and gendered a strife of 
 words in which you dishonored the cause which 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 51 
 
 you meant to recommend. You proposed to ele- 
 vate your adversary to ^''our own or a higher level, 
 and you have descended below his. Often in your 
 private and public discourse the pleasant sound of 
 your voice lulls your Christian caution, literary or 
 religious vanity comes in like a torrent on your 
 fluent periods, and it is no longer Jesus, your 
 Teacher, your Saviour, but self, a crowned, exalted, 
 applauded self, that engrosses your thoughts and 
 attracts your affection. You possessed at one time 
 a large measure of spiritual peace, a sense of being 
 right with God, reconciled and at rest with him. 
 Almost imperceptibly, by want of watchfulness, by 
 suffering other thoughts to intrude, this "joy in 
 the Lord" has passed first into a natural and legi- 
 timate animal exhilaration, then into lightmiiided- 
 ness, and lastly into foohsh tallving and jesting, 
 which truly were not convenient to your Christian 
 character and attainment, for they have lessened 
 
52 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 your influence, prevented your growth, and sepa- 
 rated you from your God. 
 
 Oh to bring our religion into every day life, to 
 decorate and glorify that life, gloomy, distasteful, 
 unlovely as it often is — to hallow it, groveling, sor- 
 did, impure, and idolatrous as we make it, with tlie 
 brightness, sublimity, and holhiess of Christianity ! 
 Our spiritual progress demands such application. 
 The martyr spirit advances to the faggot and the 
 rack, but shrinks from the personal inconvenience, 
 the slight bodily derangement, the deferred Impe — 
 from the long list of trials of patience and temper 
 induced by the ignorance and folly of our fellow- 
 man, or our own lack of caution nnd self-control. 
 We commit ourselves in our time of meditation and 
 prayer to God's direction, and are ready to submit 
 to it in every particular; we can forgive our worst 
 enemy, dethrone our idols, endure with calmness 
 and trust bereavement, poverty, and death. In 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 06 
 
 that frame of mind we cross our threshold, are 
 met by some trifling test of our Christian princi- 
 ple, and — where is it ? We were equal to the cast- 
 ing down of Satan, and the trampling under foot of 
 tdl his temptations, and behold us snared and pros- 
 trate by his unsuspected nets and stumblingblocks ! 
 Christian service requires the minutest applica- 
 tion of the principles of the gospel. We bring our 
 public confession of Christ, our charities, our ob- 
 servance of the Sabbath and of humanly appointed 
 seasons, and we do well. But how is it as to all 
 jiersonal habits, all family rule and j^lans ? Do we 
 fear that the Master will not regard some little 
 self-denial, will not accept some offering or conse- 
 cration, because it has small outward influence, 
 possibly no bearing whatever but on our habit of 
 contemplation and grateful acknowledgment ? Let 
 us go for answer to the blessed book which has 
 precept for every perplexity, comfort for every 
 
 5* 
 
54 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 sorrow, and, for marvellously numerous instances 
 of each, examples of imparted instruction and re- 
 lief. Take the account, in the fourteenth chapter 
 of the Gospel of Mark, of Mary, the sister of Laza- 
 rus, who, havinir an alabaster box of ointment of 
 spikenard, very precious, brake it and poured it 
 on his head. Some who were present had indigna- 
 tion and said, "Why w^as this waste of the ointment 
 made ?" Like many in the present day, they did 
 not recognize that when love to God fills the heart 
 of a brother, we need not concern ourselves 
 much about the mode of its manifestation, nor 
 censure and condemn him because he denies 
 himself or does his Master's work in a fashion 
 different from ours. The Saviour, who cared for 
 no '' costly oblation" or personal decoration, whose 
 meat was to do the will of Him that sent him, 
 came to the assistance of the timid and tearful 
 woman. It is to our thinking one of the most 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 55 
 
 beautiful acts of his life, one of the most sustain- 
 ing and cheering records of his wonderful tender- 
 ness, of his readiness to receive our smallest tribute 
 and relieve our most insignificant distress. " Let 
 her alone ; why trouble ye her ?" The w^ord trouble 
 is, if we mistake not, from a root which signifies 
 to annoy intensely, to wear aivay, even as the re- 
 proaches of well meaning men, who argue incor- 
 rectly on, it may be, just premises, do excessively 
 distress and irritate. There are exceptional cases 
 which the discrimination of ordinary observers is 
 not. delicate enough to discern, but which, at least, 
 the heart of every Christian should be large enough 
 to embrace. There may be a development of spi- 
 ritual life which is strange and of doubtful value 
 simply because of its extraordinary vigor. We err 
 greatly if we seek to trim evenly or train in iden- 
 tical direction the plants in the Lord's vineyard. 
 " She hath wrought a good work on me ;" — a heauti- 
 
56 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 fid work, in the original. To have sold the oint- 
 ment for more than three hundred pence, and to 
 have given them to the poor, might have been a 
 <jood work : to anoint her Master with her precious 
 ointment, to do what she could to honor him and 
 give expression to her great love and gratitude, 
 was — you objecting and contemning, because unen- 
 lightened and unloving Pharisees ! — a heautiful 
 work wdiich remains a memorial wherever the gospel 
 shall be preached. If the Saviour accepted this 
 offering of no relative value, this simple perfuming 
 of his person, this fond lingering near him, this 
 ministry of an affection unconscious of its own 
 depth and its worth in the regard of the great 
 object, this tribute, so humbly, carefully, tenderly 
 rendered, will he not accept the offering that some 
 other troubled, destitute, fearful, it may be, but lov- 
 ing &o\\\ shall bring to him ? Is there no help, no pity, 
 no tenderness, but for Mary of Bethany ? Was it 
 only as a reward to her that the memory of her act 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 57 
 
 was made perpetual ? Was not encouragement de- 
 signed for the trembling and the sorrowing, for the 
 timid woman, the ignorant child, for those who can 
 perform no great service, who have no offering 
 specially appropriate or valuable to the great cause 
 of the Redeemer ? Ah, there are ways in which 
 even the jewels and perfumes, the costly works of 
 art and appliances of luxury, the personal decora- " 
 tion or endowment, the much prized ointment, 
 the profuse and beautiful hair, may be consecrated 
 to the service of the Saviour, and become, as well as 
 the bells of the horses and the pots in Jerusalem 
 and in Judah, " holiness unto the Lord !" 
 
 It has been said that the miraculous attestation 
 of the Divine approval of Manoah's offering was 
 far fuller evidence of goodness and condescension 
 than the communication of the messenger's name 
 would have afforded. A conviction of weakness 
 and want, and of the power and lovingkindness of 
 God, leads naturally, inevitably it would seem, to 
 
58 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 the act of prayer. If his eye takes in all our case, 
 and his heart all our necessity, what more do we 
 require ? It may please him to answer us to the let- 
 ter of our petition. The thing desired may be good 
 for us, or the conferring of it may contribute to 
 strengthen our faith in the prevailing power of 
 prayer. But if we receive not as we ask, we shall 
 find, if we watch and wait, that Ave shall still re- 
 ceive, and more largely perhaps than we asked. 
 It is not needful to exemplify. Christian biogra- 
 phy furnishes ample confirmation of the declaration. 
 Our own experience, if we heed its testimony, can 
 be eloquent in the matter. " He who observes 
 providences," says Doddridge, " shall have provi- 
 dences to observe." There may indeed be a wrong 
 reading of God's promises of protection and sup- 
 ply. Foregoing our humility and submissiveness, 
 we may conclude that God will order events ac- 
 cording to our desire, and we may so pervert the 
 doctrine of his minute providence as to deem it 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 59 
 
 exercised for our simple convenience and enjoy- 
 ment. We may speak with an undue confidence 
 which sometimes passes into a revolting positive- 
 ness, and we may use great swelling Avords of 
 vanity instead of the cautious expression of con- 
 sciously ignorant and helpless creatures. In many 
 a mode does the rebellious heart assert itself. If 
 in no other, it will prefer a claim to a distinction 
 in providential dealing, will presume a larger ex- 
 perience, anticipate a fuller reward, and interpret 
 as Divine plans the workings of its own will, and 
 the suggestions of its inordinate affections. Even 
 in the way of self-renunciation may self be consti- 
 tuted the centre of the moral universe. Viewed 
 rightly and in connection, the doctrines of God's 
 special providence and of his readiness to admit 
 all our requests are among the most precious re- 
 velations of the gospel. They solve our perplexity, 
 remove our fear, diminish our grief, and lift us per- 
 manently into heavenly-minded ness and peace. 
 
GO PROMISE OF THE 
 
 GOD'S PAST DEALINGS ARE A GROUND OF CONSOLATION 
 AND CONFIDENT EXPECTATION. 
 
 We have seen that Manoah and his Avife, as 
 they beheld the wondrous ascent of the angel, 
 fell on their faces to the gronnd, and that Manoah 
 then knew that this messenger was an angel of 
 the Lord. One would suppose that this fearful 
 servant of God had been strengthened in faith 
 and trust by what had happened, that he would 
 feel himself the agent of God's designs, and 
 as such, however inmiinent the present danger, 
 sure of protection and blessing. But it is not 
 always that faith increases with manifestation of 
 truth, gratitude with benefits, and love with per- 
 ception of excellence. To the Israelites Moses 
 had occasion to say, "You have seen all that the 
 Lord did before your eyes * ''' '•' '■^' the great 
 temptations * ''' * the signs and those great mira- 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. Gl 
 
 cles : yet the Lord hath not given you an heart to 
 perceive, and ears to hear unto this day." If 
 Manoah was famiUar with the history of his people, 
 he might at this time have had present to his 
 mind a portion of their experience very similar to 
 his own, and replete with instruction and comfort. 
 "Behold," said Israel, "the Lord our God hath 
 shewed us his glory and his greatness, and we 
 have heard his voice out of the midst of the fire : 
 we have seen this day that God doth talk with 
 man, and he liveth." Bnt IManoah said to his 
 wife " We shall surely die, because we have seen 
 God." She rejoined, " If the Lord were pleased 
 to kill us, he would not have received a burnt 
 offering and meat offering at our hands, neither 
 would he have shewed us all these things, nor 
 would as at this time have told us such things as 
 these." This woman was indeed a comforter and 
 help in the Lord to her husband. She reminded 
 
G2 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 him of what he had beheld, of favors already con- 
 ferred and shoAved to him the unreasonableness of 
 supposing that God would frustrate his own plans. 
 With the argument of Manoah's wife would we 
 approach you. Christian mourner, and may God 
 who manifested himself to these his servants reveal 
 in some measure to you also the wisdom and 
 mercy of his dealings ! 
 
 It was, if w^e mistake not, Dr. Samuel Johnson, 
 who said in substance that at a certain point in 
 the acquisition of knowledge it w^ould be almost 
 as profitable to recall all that has been learned and 
 forgotten as to gain more. That this to some 
 extent is true, is proved by what is observed of the 
 man of a mental capacity moderate except as to 
 the faculty of memory. He seems continually to 
 rise to an intellectual level much higher than his 
 own. Memory, as described by some writers on 
 the mind, implies two things, — the imver of retain- 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. G3 
 
 ing knowledge, and that of presenting it to the mind 
 v:hen occasion requires. Retentiveness, according to 
 this view, is the characteristic of the first power, 
 readiness, of the second. We question that a careful 
 analysis shows this twofold operation. Memory 
 is also defined as the revival of a mode of con- 
 sciousness experienced: the power of recognizing as 
 former ohjects of attention the thoughts that from 
 time to time occur to us: the keeping of those simple 
 ideas tohich have hcen received from sensation or re- 
 flection. Perhaps it is as accurately and more 
 simply exhibited as the action of the mind in rela- 
 tion to past time. Memory is governed in all its 
 exercise by laws of association. Skill, whether 
 original or acquired, in the application and modifi- 
 cation of these laws, constitutes the excellence of 
 the faculty. A mind largely provided with prin- 
 ciples, which in their proper use become preced- 
 ents, is, in some cases, fitted to deal with new 
 
G4 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 modes and combinations of thought equally with 
 the mind endowed with large reasoning power, or 
 ready perception of the relations of ideas. Thus 
 is seen, in one aspect at least, the importance, in- 
 iellectuallii considered, of the cultivation of memory. 
 As a means of iwadical insiriiciion the import- 
 ance of this faculty is not usually estimated as it 
 deserves. Few persons stiidi/ the past either as to its 
 general or individual record. Very few have any 
 conception of its treasures of minute and various 
 precept. The minds of men, especially in this active, 
 even restless age of the w^orld, are occupied with the 
 present and the future. We detect a smile on the 
 lips of the young as we bid them pause in their 
 course, cast a backward glance, and learn a lesson 
 irom what it discerns. Yet, '• the thing which 
 hatli been, it is that which shall be." The object 
 Avhich causes us to rise early, to deny ourselves, 
 to risk health, happiness, and even life, hns been 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 65 
 
 pursued as eagerly by others ; the passion that 
 possesses all our being and influences all our action, 
 that by turns enraptures and agonizes, and rules 
 in its strength even in our dying hour — that pas- 
 sion has thrilled through other frames and perhaps 
 taught its lesson to other hearts. Nay, our im- 
 pulses and emotions continually repeat themselves. 
 There is an ended history of our inner life. Years 
 pass and it begins again, to present new scenes 
 and actors but to conclude much as before. How 
 would it be with us if careful retrospect could im- 
 part wisdom — if we would examine our chart, 
 look out for signals of rock and shoal, and prose- 
 cute the voyage of life ever mindful of already 
 experienced peril and loss ? 
 
 Little account is taken of the past by many 
 Christians in reference to its sins. It is not that 
 these should cast their pall over the remaining 
 [»ortion of life, that we should hug to ojr bosom 
 
 6* 
 
GG PROMISE OF THE 
 
 the gnawing remembrance of guilt and misery, or 
 carry a cross which onr Saviour has lifted once for 
 all as to time gone by, and will remove for evermore 
 if we agree to take upon us in its stead his easy yoke 
 and light burden. No, our sin is not heaped up 
 in awful accumulation to overwhelm us with shame 
 and despair through life, and, if remitted, to be so 
 only at life's end ! He who is at once our High 
 Priest and our Victim stands ever near, not indeed 
 to make, or to give himself, another sacrifice for sin, 
 but to apply freely the unfailing virtue of the offer- 
 ing already made. That fountain for sin and un- 
 cleanness is never dry, nor, like the pool of Be- 
 thesda, does it cleanse only at "a certain season," 
 and a few of the many who resort thither. AVe afflict 
 ourselves needlessly, and contrary to gospel teach- 
 ing, on account of our past sins, if they have been 
 truly repented of. But there is an aspect in which 
 we would do well to hold them ever present. It is 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 07 
 
 that of the instruction which they impart. If ^Ye 
 observe closely the temptation and the yielding, 
 recall the shame, suffering, and penitence, shall we 
 not walk more softly, and bo more watchful of 
 coming dangers? The way is covered with snares 
 and slippery places, and if God has hitherto plucked 
 our feet out of the net, and brought us up out of 
 the horrible pit and miry clay, shall not our eyes 
 be ever toward him in review of the dealing as in 
 hope of deliverance ? 
 
 The consideration of the past is important in 
 respect to the temptation wdth which we have suc- 
 cessfully struggled. The modes of rescue from 
 our spiritual foes are many. At one time, we re- 
 cognize in the thick of the conflict a strength 
 beyond all our consciousness and expectation, a 
 strength seemingly irresistible, and which wins a 
 speedy and easy victoiy. At another time, there 
 is no such power. With the desire to triumph, 
 
G8 TROMISE OF THE 
 
 the will seems dead to every stimulus, a faintness 
 and prostration of spirit, so intense that it seems 
 half physical, takes hold upon us, we feel the 
 hopeless sadness or indifference of the victim for 
 whom escape is impossible, and we cease to pray 
 and to strive : — let the matter go as it will, the 
 trial is too hard — resist as I may, I must yield 
 at last! But we were not permitted to yield. 
 Some diversion took place. The discipline was 
 afforded, and not invariably in the Avay of punish- 
 ment. Some new interest or pursuit, some un- 
 expected calamity or blessinp:, diverted us from the 
 train of thought, and at the edge of the precipice 
 withheld us from the plunge. At times, trifling 
 influences have been endowed v/ith a power never 
 known before. Wrought up to a frenzy of passion 
 and self-will, some sweet, familiar song, some act, or 
 tone, or look of ordinary kindness, some glimpse of 
 a grief greater, perhaps less than our own, some 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 69 
 
 vision of old age crouching under disease and want, 
 of "wan and wretched childhood begging by the 
 "wayside, of man going to his long home and the 
 mourners going about the streets — the lightest 
 touch, the gentlest breeze, may reach the answer- 
 ing chords, and the whole soul vibrates in har- 
 mony with God's appointment and gives forth notes 
 of acknowledgment and praise. Reader, this is no 
 imaginary sketch. Look into your life, and you 
 also may see the living lines, and they may remain 
 to you an indelible record of your Father s faith- 
 fulness and mercy. 
 
 The consideration of the past is undervalued by 
 many Christians its a means of encouragement. The 
 special providence of God in relation to ourselves 
 is an open book with instruction in every page 
 and line, and most of us read it carelessly, if at all. 
 We have asked with earnestness a blessing and 
 have not watched for its coming. We prayed for 
 
70 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 the conversion of ca friend, and have since neg- 
 lected to observe his course, or perhaps have not 
 given a thought to his spiritual condition. We 
 set ourselves to attain to some Christian grace, to 
 secure some outward benefit, and, as we labored, for- 
 got to depend on the guidance and aid which ^^e had 
 implored. If we failed, we lamented our ill fortune 
 or management, and perhaps murmured against 
 God. If we succeeded, w^e looked still to self, 
 gave to self the honor, and withheld it from 
 God. Christians rarely view themselves accord- 
 ing to their actual privilege. If a man takes 
 into consideration all his being and circumstances, 
 what satisfaction should it afford to him to re- 
 ceive at the outset of life from a supremely wise 
 and powerful being an assurance of the most minute 
 care and direction on the sole condition of an ab- 
 solute committal of self to his disposal ! The 
 Christian is assured by the facts and promises of 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 71 
 
 Scripture that God will thus provide for and guide 
 him, •' will strengthen him upon the bed of lan- 
 guishing," and " make," or turn, as for his refresh- 
 ment, "all his bed;" that if he be "poor and needy," 
 the Lord thinketh upon him ; if he be in ignorance 
 or perplexity — " I will instruct thee and teach 
 thee in the way which thou shalt go : I will guide 
 thee with mine eye ;" if men speak evil of him — 
 "He shall bring forth thy righteousness as the 
 light and thy judgment as the noonday;" in the 
 day of battle — " I will beat down his foes before his 
 face, and plague them that hate him." Whatever 
 and how numerous soever the aftlictions of the 
 righteous, he may know that " the Lord delivereth 
 him out of them all ;" — " lie keepeth all his bones, 
 not one of them is broken." "' He that trusteth in 
 the Lord, mercy shall compass him about ;" — show- 
 ing, according to Matthew Henry, that he shall not 
 depart from God, for mercy shall keep him in, nor 
 
/ L PROMISE OP THE 
 
 shall any real evil break in upon him, for mercy 
 shall keep it out. A " rock that is higher than I " 
 in the stormy sea of life ; a " covering of wings " on 
 this cold earth, where, moreover, foes hover contin- 
 ually around ; a " hiding-place," a •' sun," a "shield," 
 a "fortress," a "shadow from the heat," a "strong- 
 tower," — by all that imagery can convey is God 
 presented to us in lovingkindness and tender 
 mercy. If, Christian, these declarations are not 
 sufficient warrant for confidence, if you cannot 
 commit yourself to this Preserver and Benefactor, 
 what shall satisfy you, to whom will you look for 
 the supply of your vast, your life-long necessity ? 
 "If," — to renew the fervent appeal of the younger 
 Mason — "you ask for better assurance than his 
 words of promise; if that will not fortify you 
 against the ills of life and detith; if you have not 
 learned, w^ith the father of the faithful, against 
 hope to believe in hope, 'not staggering at the 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 73 
 
 promise of God through unbelief/ make thorough 
 work of it; cast away his name, his badge, and 
 his Hvery; take all the comfort that sense can 
 bring you; but do not, whatever else you pretend 
 to, do not set up for a believer in Jesus Christ !" 
 
 We go a step farther. God has not only prom- 
 ised but performed. To prove this, by conducting 
 the reader through the fields of sacred and profane 
 history and of Christian biography, would be a 
 task prolonged indeed but of most successful ac- 
 complishment. But it is only to our reader's in- 
 dividual experience that we now desire to refer. 
 We would urge the review of ordinary and extra- 
 ordinary blessings and trials, and observation of 
 the fact and mode of deliverance from aflliction. 
 "Let it be when these signs" — to us in these days 
 the proofs of God's past providence and love — 
 "are come unto thee, that thou do as occasion 
 serve thee, /or God is tvith theeT The survey of 
 7 
 
74 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 God's dealings communicates ample and permanent 
 encouragement. Without contemplation of his 
 arrangements ^ve cannot receive instruction nor 
 experience gratitude. "Have I been so long time 
 with you, and yet hast thou not known me, Philip?" 
 Christian, the Master's question is put to you. So 
 long — and do you know him yet? So long — so 
 many mercies, so many opportunities, unobserved 
 or neglected ! So long his voice sounding in your 
 ears its teaching, its reproof, its warning, its 
 comfort, and you have not yd gathered its mean- 
 ing! The sheep knows the shepherd's voice and 
 follows liim, but how have you followed your watch- 
 ful, loving Shepherd? How tender the appeal to 
 Philip ! How touching the reference to the many 
 and varied scenes through which the Teacher and 
 his disciples had passed ! It pains acutely to be ■' not 
 known," to be misunderstood by the objects of our 
 solicitude and love, to find our principles, motives, 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. iO 
 
 and labors contemned or disregarded. Did tlie 
 Saviour in his human nature feel something of this 
 sting when he addressed his delicate and mournful 
 interrogatory to the slow and cold disciple, who 
 after so many instructive occasions failed to dis- 
 discern Christ's Divine nature and ability? When 
 under the pressure of doabt or sorrow we have 
 lacked faith in his power to deliver or sought help 
 from some earthly source, do we think that no ap- 
 peal is made to us? Truly, we ought to hiov) him, 
 ignorant, helpless as we are; Ave ought to know 
 Mm., our Elder Brother, our Teacher, our Guide, 
 our Master, our Saviour, our Lord and our God! 
 We have need to Jcnow him, for only when we know 
 God — God in Christ, can we say with Philip, ''It 
 sufficeth us!" 
 
 The argument for the Christian's encouragement 
 in trial on account of God's past dealings, is not 
 fairly brought to a close without adverting to such 
 
76 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 affliction as seems not to admit of this mode of 
 consolation. There is sorrow which has no parallel 
 in the snfTerer's experience, and which is a '"mys- 
 tery of darkness " both as to its own intensity and as 
 to the indications of Providence. It hides for a while 
 the Father's face and surronnds with thick clouds 
 the throne of his judgment. " Shew me wherefore 
 thou contendest with me. Is it good unto thee 
 that thou shouldest oppress, that thou shouldest 
 despise the work of thine hands?" ''Thine 
 hands have made me and fashioned me tos^ether 
 round about; yet thou dost destroy me." There 
 are periods when life in its round of mixed and 
 moderate pleasure and pain comes to a dead pause. 
 No fair prospect remains, every cheering voice is 
 silent, no flickering flame bursts up from the em- 
 bers of hope to kindle the soul afresh into light 
 and warmth. As we approach such grief, our step 
 falters and our heart grows faint. There is but 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 77 
 
 one comfort for thy trouble, poor, suffering soul! 
 und what if thou canst not put forth thy hand to 
 receive it? If thou wert only bruised and bleeding 
 from the assaults to thy peace, Ave might pour oil 
 and wine into thy wounds, raise thee to pursue thy 
 painful way, sustain and strengthen thee wath words 
 of kindness and hope. But what when life seems 
 ebbing away, when the eye refuses to brighten, 
 and the chill of hopeless despondency is creeping 
 slowly over the frame ! 
 
 Christian brother, you have lately met with the 
 severest affliction of your life, possibly in your 
 circumstances and with your temperament the 
 severest that you could endure. You had some 
 blessing, w^iich, as a Christian, you held watch- 
 fully over self, thankfully toward God. With its 
 possession w^as identified not merely your present 
 enjoyment but your spring of action, your largest 
 opportunity of usefulness. In its absence the 
 
/O PROMISE OF THE 
 
 feeble knees tremble and give way, the once busy 
 hands stiffen and droop. Your soul grew strong 
 on that nourishing supply. The clouds of gloom, 
 doubt, self-tormenting speculation, vanished in 
 your sky, and clear, warm was the ray that shone 
 on your path of duty. This blessing brightened 
 every corner of your abode, dignified the humblest, 
 office of your hands, pervaded the intricate mazes 
 of your mental operations, raised you above petty 
 cares, furnished you ever with a standard of attain- 
 ment, was in the past an unfiiding memory, in the 
 future, a fair, outspread landscape of varied and 
 rational enjoyment. In your estimate and affec- 
 tion it was inferior only to the God who gave it, 
 to the uses he connected with its enjoyment, and 
 to the self-denial in relation to it which was your 
 willing sacrifice inasmuch as he demanded it. This 
 anxiously guarded treasure, more than any other 
 drew your heart to the heaven where decay and 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS, 79 
 
 violence cannot come. By your intensity of ap- 
 preciation this gift became to you a gracious influ- 
 ence, increasing your love for God, the giver, for 
 God, the fuller source of knowledge and happiness. 
 This blessing was one of the highest forms of 
 earthly affection and pursuit, — scarcely, indeed, 
 earthly y so much did holy and eternal principles 
 and tendencies constitute and characterize it. It 
 was the love of a wife, a child, a friend, devotion 
 to science or art, a congenial and Avidely useful 
 occupation. Whatever it was, the elevating, hal- 
 lowing influence Avas, in different degrees, still the 
 same. Whatever it was in your case, it is gone. 
 Physical disabilities, poverty, death, have ended 
 your connection with it for ever. Your condition 
 seems hopeless to yourself and to others. It may 
 be so as to the lost possession but not as to future 
 tranquillity and peace. Why limit God's resources, 
 why w^eaken his power, distrust his mercy, forget 
 
80 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 his love? Cling you to the thought of the past 
 with such clenched hraid that you cannot stretch 
 it forth to Him who would sustain and deliver 
 you? That much prized blessing is removed, and 
 no argument of ours can make the fact other than 
 it is. The arrows stick fast and there is no sound- 
 ness in your flesh. But He who conferred the 
 benefit may design a greater, and at least will not 
 disregard your positive necessity. "By all these 
 things men live, and in all these things is the life 
 of my spirit : so w^ilt thou recover me and make 
 me to live." You thought to serve Him in a good 
 way; He finds for you a better. You thought 
 
 honestly to be the more fliithful for the talents 
 committed to you, for the happiness that fdled 
 your days — to increase in personal holiness and 
 in Christian influence; but God shows you that 
 you shall not only obtain "a little strength," but 
 learn to walk without human help or earthly 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 81 
 
 stay. The discipline is severe, but it is adminis- 
 tered in measure and in mercy. That on which 
 you rested is taken from you and you fall, but 
 3'ou shall not be utterly cast down, for the Lord 
 upholdeth yon with his hand. The cup which 
 your Father gives you, surely you can drink. The 
 soul of the Son of God was exceeding sorrowful 
 even unto death. "If thou be willing, remove 
 this cup from me," w^as the utterance of his hu- 
 manity ; but in mockery, and scourging, and death 
 on the cross, he drained the cup, and oh, the blessed 
 result to men of forgiveness and salvation ! There 
 is scarcely a parallel between his sorrow and yours, 
 between his submission and yours, between the 
 support which he received and that which you 
 have reason to anticipate. Unto him in the hour 
 of anguish there appeared an angel from heaven 
 strengthening him. Unto you is afforded the re- 
 cord of his suffering, his death, his perfected atone- 
 
82 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 inent, his sure salvation. But there is a regard in 
 which a resemblance may exist between your Mas- 
 ter's trial and yours: — "being in an agony lie 
 prai/ed more earncdhjr 
 
 You who suffer Avith Christ are privileged to 
 pray to the Father to whom he prayed. Like him 
 you may obtain strength not only to sustain your 
 burden but to seek sorrowing yet unwatchful souls, 
 and address to them your counsel and warning. 
 If your consolation seems long delayed, if prostrate 
 you must remain, at least be, as the Israelites in 
 their humiliation, on your face before God in peni- 
 tence and submission. This helpless attitude is 
 not hopeless. There are those who can tell of an 
 entire casting of the soul upon God, of a crying 
 unto him which is hardly prayer in form though 
 wholly prayer in substance: — Lord remember! 
 Jesus help me ! I am blind, let me receive my 
 sight! I am weary, give me rest! Thou art so full 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 83 
 
 of mercy. Manifest it to me now ! I ask not that 
 my sorrow be taken away, if it is thy will that I 
 bear it. But I do ask, I plead, I strive with thee 
 that thou wilt remove this feebleness, this despair, 
 that thou wilt fill me with trust in thee, and 
 comfort me not with my desire but with thy love. 
 It is utterly impossible that you place yourself 
 at God's disposal, to accept what he sends and 
 perform what he requires, and that you continue 
 to exercise towards him this cheerful submission, 
 without receiving his protection and support, per- 
 haps even, according to ?/ our faith, some unexpected 
 and bountiful provision. In the deepest distress 
 there come at times alleviations other than spiritual, 
 unlooked for mercies, streams of refreshment from 
 sources hitherto concealed. But though a bless- 
 ing ma?/ be granted in this form, in another it is cer- 
 tain and sufficient. //' ye endure chastening, God 
 dcalctJi vnth you as tvith sons. This is the consola- 
 
84 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 tion which aboundeth, the end of faith, the fulness 
 of peace. You have the evidence of sonship not be- 
 cause you sorrow, but because you sorrow after a 
 godly sort. You find it sweet to draw near to 
 your God, sweet in present trouble to thank him 
 for past mercies, sweet to say, Even so, Father! 
 sweet to feel that, however it was before, yon are 
 right with him now. There seems established a 
 relation bet^veen yourself and your Creator. — a 
 relation on your part more filial than you could 
 have believed possible. A general reliance on his 
 wisdom you had, a vague desire to conform to his 
 will, an undefined hope that he would work some 
 good thing for your soul. Now^ you are not qnite 
 so anxious for the "good thing" — for the smaller 
 measure of spiritual benefit — as for the nearness 
 to God, the continuance of his daily support, the 
 bow in the cloud, the strength in your weak- 
 ness so plainly not your own, and therefore so 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 
 
 86 
 
 precious and abiding. Oh, not your own! for if 
 you leave but one moment the attitude of depend- 
 ence and entreaty you are tossed back into the 
 arena of conflict and fear. Strong bulls of Bashan 
 beset you round and gape upon you with their 
 mouths. You are poured out like water, all your 
 bones are out of joint, and your heart is melted 
 within you like wax. Thoughts of past happiness, 
 of purposes broken off, and of a future without in- 
 terest or hope, unnerve and overwhelm you, and you 
 cannot repair to the covert provided, to the strong- 
 hold of Divine presence and protection. But if 
 you preserve your nearness to God by submission 
 to his appointments, study of his word, and prayer, 
 it is as if you saw and talked with him. He sus- 
 tains you with firmer supports than those to which 
 you were clinging. As earthly things retire, 
 the love and service of God become prominent. 
 Communion with God was once to you simply a 
 
86 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 ftimiliar phrase, denoting a Christian attainment 
 which, from its purely spiritual and mysterious 
 nature, you supposed would remain to 3'ou and to 
 most persons an object of wavering desire and im- 
 perfect endeavor. It is now a condition of your 
 being, a permanent habit of your thought. Your 
 views of Christ assume in a measure the charac- 
 ter of the figured love of the Church. As you turn, 
 baffled and unsatisfied, from the pursuits and in- 
 tercourse of life, your soul unmistakeably calls out, 
 I will seek him whom my soul loveth. My be- 
 loved is mine and I am his. Come unto me for I am 
 sick of love — I am weary of low thoughts and 
 earthly contact. I yearn with unspeakable long- 
 ing for strong support and holy affection. I sleep 
 in this dull atmosphere, but my heart waketh to 
 hear the voice that calleth me. My beloved is the 
 chiefest among ten thousand, yea, he is altogether 
 lovely. 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 87 
 
 The lesson which affliction thus improved teaches 
 to the Christian is not forgotten. An estimate is 
 affixed to earthly things which never afterward 
 materially varies, and their influence on his affec- 
 tions is permanently contracted. Heavenly love 
 is distinct from earthly love and is susceptible of 
 only partial comparison and description; but the 
 Christian can confidently affirm, that it is his strong- 
 est principle, his spring of action, his sufficient con- 
 solation, and the power by which he can say, 
 "None of these things move me," — that is, none 
 long disturb my mental balance, none change ni}^ 
 general conduct of life, none separate between me 
 and my God. It is not his design that in this life 
 I should attain to an absolute superiority over them. 
 It is his will that I suffer; when I fall, he has al- 
 lowed the stumbling-block to be placed in my way; 
 but 
 
88 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 Though I fail, I weep : 
 
 Though I halt in pace, 
 
 Yet I creep 
 
 To the throne of grace. 
 
 Full often I sit under his shadow with great de- 
 light, and his fruit is sweet to my taste. He 
 bringeth me to his banqueting-house and his ban- 
 ner over me is love. 
 
 In our earlier Christian studies, we viewed such 
 representations as have just been attempted of at- 
 tainable steadfastness and peace in the midst of 
 trouble, as to a great extent literary embellish- 
 ment, the unsubfitantial suggestion of the writer's 
 enthusiasm, or the delusive promise of his soul's 
 longing and weariness. As such, they would 
 but mock the suffering and disappoint the expect- 
 ation of the afflicted. Our heart grew bitter within 
 us at zmnh, mere tvords. We continually read and 
 hear much on the subject of consolation that is 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 89 
 
 irrelevant and ineffective, imdiscerning and heart- 
 less. So, mourner, our reasoning may seem to you. 
 But at least give ear to us when we urge that you 
 will never obtain relief, b}^ which Ave do not under- 
 stand the hajDpiness that you have lost, or some 
 earthly equivalent, but composure and cheerful- 
 ness, until you are willing to consent to the trial, to 
 accept it as God's appointment, possibly, in the way 
 of discipline, certainly, to the end of your greatest 
 and permanent advantage. Your natural regret 
 must not admit ingratitude and repining, nor your 
 wounded spirit disqualify you for the duties of 
 your condition. The joy of deliverance and of new 
 mercies, if it come to you, will come with tenfold 
 delight that you "waited patiently," that you de- 
 sired more the accomphshment of God's will than 
 of your wish, that you have the profit for which 
 he afflicted you, and that henceforth nothing can 
 divide you from his love. 
 
90 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 A great German physician defines disease as 
 "an accidental or spontaneous reaction of the sys- 
 tem against a morbid cause;" and another writer 
 has nearly the same thought: — "all sickness is the 
 struggle of nature against a morbid cause, and is 
 the result of a double and distinct action, viz., of 
 a morbid action produced by a morbific cause, and 
 constituting an affection; the other, a healing action 
 set in oj^eration by a vital, healing energy, and 
 constituting reaction^ According to this view, 
 sickness is a beneficent violence, a timely wjirning, 
 an intimation of a hidden evil, a friendly tap on 
 the shoulder to stop and mark the approaching 
 danger. In close analogy is the working of sorrow 
 in our moral system. It is a struggle, or reaction, 
 against the morbid action of sin. The moral organ- 
 ization is unsound, for sin dwells in the flesh and 
 spreads its poison through the spiritual nature ; 
 and though in the case of the Christian the pro- 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 91 
 
 cess of purification is begun, it is not in this life 
 made complete. If sin obtains greater influence 
 and impairs the health of the soul, sorrow calls at- 
 tention to the peril, obliges the sufferer to inquire 
 intokthe cause, and gives him no rest until he dis- 
 covers and applies the only remedy adapted to his 
 case. To a certain class of j^ersons prosperity is 
 especially favorable. It imparts confidence and 
 freedom to the apprehensive and self-distrustful, 
 who too gladly grasp the blessing to hold it care- 
 lessly, and therefore, ungratefully. But in the 
 case of most persons prosperity hardens. Ad- 
 versity commonly makes the heart tender, the 
 conscience sensitive, the will pliant, and seems 
 designed to prepare its subject for that fuller oper- 
 ation of the Spirit which moulds and developes the 
 whole being, until an unformed and earthy mass is 
 instinct with grace and beauty and becomes the 
 perfect man in Christ, the fair type of that renewed 
 
92 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 and glorious nature to which hereafter it shall 
 attain. 
 
 We have said that affliction may be the means 
 of establishing a new and definite relation between 
 the soul and its Creator. Theological writers con- 
 sider the love of God tojiis creatures in the two- 
 fold aspect of the love of benevolence and the love 
 of complacenc?/, — the one, exercised towards all the 
 sentient creation, the other, excited by the moral 
 action of the creature. The love of man towards 
 God is also that of complacency, or approbation of 
 his revealed perfections, and it is in addition the 
 love of gratitude. It is common to us as creatures 
 to adore God in creation and providence as oin- 
 Father. But there is a point where an individual 
 relation begins, where the Universal Cause becomes 
 the Father of m?/ spirit, and where all that is dis- 
 tant, vague, abstract, is brought near, defined, and 
 concentrated. In the fulness of our wonder and 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 93 
 
 delimit we exclaim, "Who is like unto the Lord 
 our God who dwelleth on high, who humbleth him- 
 self to behold the things that are in heaven and in 
 the earth?" We do not attain to this state by in- 
 attentive observation, feeble desire, and careless, 
 aimless advance. The eyes must be opened, the 
 heart made soft, the feet set in the way of God's 
 commandments. This is the working of godly 
 sorrow. 
 
 If we consider man's capacity of loving as it 
 exists in reference to his fellow-men, we may ob- 
 tain some imperfect notion of what it may become 
 in reference to the greatest and best of beings. 
 There is a love of instinct, of propinquity, of habit, 
 of benevolence, of pity, of gratitude, of compla- 
 cency, or approbation. But the love of which w^e 
 would speak — human love in its broadest significa- 
 tion and fullest exercise — is not partial in its char- 
 acter nor contingent in its manifestation. It ex- 
 
94 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 liibits all forms and is independent of all. It is free 
 yet involuntary, discerning yet fixed, inexhaustible 
 in its nature, and never satisfied in its Avants. It 
 seeks for its object ever greater attainments, more 
 perfect resemblance to the highest beauty; it 
 frames the compact which, according to an Amer- 
 ican writer, is the noblest that can exist between 
 man and his fellow — "Let there be truth between 
 us two for evermore !" It is the love which bids de- 
 fiance to time, is not subject to change, which 
 pervades all thought and action, which dwells 
 in the eye, rules the tongue, informs the mind, 
 cultivates the taste, and imparts to the whole 
 spiritual being the dignity of its own heavenly 
 and eternal nature. It is the purest and most God- 
 like of our emotions, — nay more, it is of God, dwells 
 awhile among created things, but rests only in Him 
 from whom it is derived. The intellect is in one 
 view the superior portion of the mental organiza- 
 
LIFE THAT KOW IS. 95 
 
 tioD. In its exercise man seems most removed 
 from the brute creation, and assumes the image 
 of Him who is not only the Framer of his 
 body but the Father of his spirit. But the emo- 
 tion of love, "when brought under the purifying 
 influence of the Hol}^ Spirit, would seem to 
 constitute man's noblest distinction. There is 
 everywhere a bound to the exercise of reason. 
 There is none to the exercise of love. It sup- 
 plies all deficiencies, solves all problems, over- 
 leaps every obstacle, is wide as the world, high 
 as heaven, immortal as the soul. But why essay 
 we to speak of that which the tongue of Paul 
 could not utter? Enough is it for us as for him 
 that of abiding faith in Christ, hope of heaven, and 
 love to God and man, the greatest is love! 
 
 For this illimitable capacity there is correspond- 
 ing provision. Love embraces earthly objects, but 
 is filled only by the fulness of God. A being 
 
9G PROMISE OF THE 
 
 eternal, immutable^ infinitely powerful, wise, and 
 good, becomes to man his Father, his Saviour, and 
 his Sanctifier. Imperfectly declared by the things 
 that are made, God is comprehended, beloved, and 
 adored in the person and teaching of Jesus Christ. 
 God hath shined in our hearts to give the light of 
 the Jcno2vledge of the glory of God in the face of 
 Jesus Christ. Whosoever shall confess tliat Jesus 
 is the Son of God, God divelleth in him and he in 
 God. He that dwellcth in love, divelleth in God, 
 and God in him. Mark how perfect the circle of 
 gospel truth ! How gloriously these blessed declar- 
 ations, these rays from the Sun of righteousness, 
 concentre in the divine nature and tendency of 
 love ! Truly our fellowship is with the Father and 
 his Son Jesus Christ! 
 
 Scripture is given to declare the design of God 
 with regard to the human race. As the agent of 
 that design, the second person in the Trinity is 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 97 
 
 prominently set forth. His nature, character, 
 and authority are variously and fully exhibited. 
 Of him prophets spake, and the desire of the souls 
 of men was for his appearing. The object and re- 
 sults of his mission are fully announced, not in the 
 seer's dim A'ision of the distant glory, but by the 
 lips of the God-man himself, who stands as if with 
 outstretched arms, imploring men to come unto 
 him and be saved. Thus in the sacred volume 
 one thought predominates. The scheme of man's 
 redemption by Jesus Christ provides that in all 
 things he may have the 'pre-eminence. Some one has 
 said that the "glory of Christ" is the idea of the 
 Bible. It is the same proposition as that which 
 we have stated, Christ has the pre-eminence in 
 man's justification, being made sin for us that we 
 might be made the righteousness of God in him; 
 he has the pre-eminence in sanctification by his 
 promise and gift of the Holy Spirit; and "the only 
 
 9 
 
98 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 wise God, our Savioiiv" accomplishes his ministry 
 of reconciliation, hy presenting his faithful ones 
 faultless before the presence of his glory with ex- 
 ceeding joy. He shall have the pre-eminence over 
 every human object in our affection and service. 
 He shall have the pre-eminence over the flesh, the 
 world and Satan, over death and the grave. This 
 Christ Jesus, thus of God made unto us wisdom, 
 and righteousness, and sanctification, and redemp- 
 tion, it also behooved in all things to be made like 
 unto his brethren that he might be a merciful and 
 faithful high priest to make reconciliation for the 
 sins of the people. The arrangement was com- 
 plete. The scheme was vast and comprehensive, 
 and its execution thorough to the minutest details. 
 The superior nature is not satisfied with such know- 
 ledge of the inferior as the creator and fiishioner 
 thereof might obtain, but will set aside its own 
 divine excess, change its sphere and contract its 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 99 
 
 vision, assume the semblance of itself, and become 
 acquainted in yet another mode with the condition 
 and characteristics of humanity. This was to the 
 end that mercy be of perfect quality, that faithful- 
 ness in no jot or tittle be found wanting ! 
 
 Such is the Saviour who offers in all time to all 
 who are troubled his sufficient and enduring conso- 
 lation. You who are in heaviness through manifold 
 temptations cannot doubt, in view of Scripture 
 assurance, that he is able to succor you. Do you 
 still hesitate to apply to him? The record is very 
 full respecting the application and exercise of his 
 ability. His appeals are not indefinite and incon- 
 sequent statements. His performance is simple, 
 prompt, effective; and its mode, manifest, gracious, 
 suggestive in the highest degree, and directed often 
 to another than the obvious intent, producing 
 benefit relative as Avell as personal, eternal as well 
 as temporal. His expostulations, persuasions, and 
 
100 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 invitations are earnest, affecting, winning, beyond 
 all precedent or human standard. We even learn 
 that this Jesus wept, and, on the occasions given, 
 not for his own but for others' sorrows. If you 
 have not been gathered under the wings of that 
 tenderness, it is because "ye would not." Look 
 on him a little longer as he stands before you 
 in human shape. " This is my beloved and this 
 is my friend, daughters of Jerusalem !" Ob- 
 serve the kind and encouraging gesture; listen 
 to words of an infinite wisdom and love! Behold 
 him until the divine and glorious form so fills 
 you with delight that you cannot remain afar 
 off! Give ear to him until every other voice 
 is silent, and one gracious meaning possesses and 
 controls your soul! Then the detaining grasp of 
 that earthly care is loosened, and you find peace 
 and rest in his embrace. Then your language will 
 be, not the cavil of your doubt and inexperience, — 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 101 
 
 •'What is thy beloved more than another beloved?" 
 but the confident and rejoicing testimony, — "Now 
 we believe, not because of thy saying, for we have 
 heard him ourselves!" Oh to have such an appre- 
 hension of God's lovingkindness, such an unvary 
 ing trust in his care, such a view of the action in 
 concert with regard to man of the ever blessed 
 Godhead, that we may be unterrified by the trials 
 of life, that its sufferings may produce a stronger 
 faith and more perfect love, and that when we are 
 deprived of ordinary hopes and enjoyments we may 
 obtain in their stead " the treasures of darkness 
 and the hidden riches of secret places!" What 
 matter if we sorrow, what matter even if we have 
 greatly sinned, if now we sit at Jesus' feet and 
 have washed them with our tears, for our faith 
 shall save us, and sorrowing or sinning we go in 
 peace ! The bruised spirit scatters a more fra- 
 grant perfume of gratitude and love. The flame 
 
102 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 of the consuming sacrifice goes up toward heaven 
 from off the altar. It is not for human thought 
 to rove at will through the courts of heaven, or to 
 behold other scenes than those that are revealed. 
 But among that white-robed throng are there not 
 some of more radiant mien and vesture, some who 
 bend lower before the throne, some whose voices 
 ring out from the general harmony a more thrilling 
 acclaim of thanksgiving and praise ? How, mourner, 
 shall your weeping endure through the night, when 
 this inconceivable joy surely cometh in the morn- 
 ing? Why wait for your translation to enter on 
 this blessed service and taste the delights of God's 
 presence and love? The treasure, though it be in 
 earthen vessels, is already yours; already with 
 open face you behold as in a glass the glory of 
 the Lord; already has the change begun into the 
 same image from glory to glory, even as by the 
 spirit of the Lord. 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 103 
 
 The conversion of sinners is always longed for 
 by the true child of God. In his maturing spiritual 
 life there comes a period when the progress of the 
 converted is an object of nearly equal solicitude. 
 "Sometimes," wrote James Alexander, "I am 
 almost as glad to observe a ripening as once to ob- 
 serve a conversion:" — "I thank God for his 
 
 mercy to though now I am almost as anxious 
 
 that he should be the right sort of Christian as I 
 was thit he should be converted." As Christians, 
 we direct our course toward the same mark but 
 pursue it w^ith what different degrees of vigor and 
 steadiness. We may so conduct it, laying aside 
 every weight, that w^e shall run and not be weary, 
 and wdth such fixed gaze on the prize as to in- 
 crease immeasurably our desire and hope. To 
 promote in some degree such spiritual effort is 
 the object chiefly proposed in these pages. We 
 have endeavored to ascertain by the light of 
 
104 PROMISE OF THE 
 
 Scripture what is the "i^romiseof the life that now 
 is," and to observe some of the modes of its fulfil- 
 ment. From this examination of things written 
 aforetime for our learning we have derived lessons 
 of encouragement^ consolation, and confidence in 
 God. But our connection with the subject does 
 not terminate here. Not only nor mainly does the 
 Christian live for his own instruction and comfort. 
 The glory of God is the proper end of all his action, 
 all his knowledge, all his suffering, and all his en- 
 joyment. The consideration of God's faithfulness 
 should induce not only firm trust and lasting peace, 
 but fervent love and entire consecration to his ser- 
 vice. To them that fear him he has given a banner 
 that it may be displayed because of the truth. 
 Patriarchs, apostles, and prophets, saints and mar- 
 tyrs, a great cloud of witnesses, a multitude that no 
 man could number, have set forth this truth con- 
 cerning a covenant-keeping God by lives differing 
 
LIFE THAT NOW IS. 105 
 
 it would seem in every thing Scave the manifestation 
 of patience, submission, and obedience. "Whoso is 
 wise, and w^jll observe these things, even they shall 
 understand the loving kindness of the Lord." 
 
 As we have heard, so have we seen. Blessed 
 be the Lord, '•' ''• '•' there hath not failed one word 
 of all his good promise. According to thy name, 
 God, so is thy praise unto the ends of the earth. 
 Fellow Christian, this God is oiu- God. He is our 
 God for ever and ever. What offering shall we 
 bring? What new song shall we sing unto the 
 Lord ? How shall we give unto him the glory due 
 unto his name? How in some measure declare the 
 mercy that is everlasting, and the truth that en- 
 dureth to all generations? 
 
m Theological Sernntary-Speer Library 
 
 1 1012 01002 4117