tihvwy of t:Ke t:Keolo0ical ^tmimty 
 
 PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY 
 
 
 FROM THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 REVEREND JESSE HALSEY, D.D. 
 
 BV 4501 .H58 1864 
 Hopkins, Samuel, 1721-1803. 
 Lessons at the cross, or. 
 Spiritual truths familiarl 
 
LESSONS AT THE CROSS. 
 
ji 
 
 
 LESSONS AT. Tte^BOSSjj::^ 
 
 OR 
 
 SPIRITUAL TRUTHS 
 
 FAMILIARLY EXHIBITED IN THEIR RELATIONS TO CHRIST. 
 
 BY 
 
 SAMUEL HOPKINS. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION. 
 
 REV. GEORGE W. BLAGDEN, D. D. 
 
 EIGHTH EDITION. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 aOULD AND LINOOT. N 
 
 69 WASHINGTON STREET. 
 
 NEW YORK: SHELDON AND COMPANY. 
 
 CINCINNATI: GEORGE S. BLANCHARD. 
 
 1864. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by 
 S. K. Whipple & Co., 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetta 
 
ADVEETISEMENT. 
 
 The following papers were written at dif- 
 ferent times, and without any reference to 
 each other. I gather them from a multitude 
 of others almost at random, and in their 
 original form ; making a little volume which, 
 as such^ has no pretensions to unity. Conse- 
 quently, similar aspects of some particular 
 truth occasionally recur in illustration of dif- 
 ferent, but analogous, subjects ; which in a 
 consecutive work would be a faulty repe- 
 tition 
 
 If, however, I secure the Christian sym- 
 pathy of the reader, and conduce to his spir- 
 itual profit, a few imperfections of method 
 or of style will not interfere with my chief 
 object in the issue of these pages. 
 
 S. H. 
 Jamiaryy 1852. 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Introdxjction ix 
 
 I. Spiritual Life, — its Natl're axd Method .- 9 
 n. Spiritual Li«:e, — its Gro-vVth ... 27 
 
 III. Daily Faith in Christ 42 
 
 IV. The Conditions op Salvation ... 63 
 v. Peace op Mind 77 
 
 VI. Divine Grace commensurate with Man's 
 
 Necessity 85 
 
 VII. Religious Despondency .... 99 
 VIII. The Excellence of the Knowledge of 
 
 Christ 116 
 
 IX. The Wealth op the Believer . . .154 
 X. The Recognition op Christ's Grace, — a 
 
 Duty 185 
 
 XI. The Believer's Debt to Christ . . 222 
 XII. Service the Requirement op Christ. . 238 
 XIII. The Results op the Christian's Afflic- 
 tions 253 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The manuscript copy of this volume has 
 been submitted to my perusal ; and I have 
 been animated and strengthened in my own 
 religious principles by reading it. It is, per- 
 haps, a fair inference, that others who peruse 
 it will be equally benefited. It is luminous 
 with Christ ; and therefore it may be con- 
 scientiously and unreservedly recommended. 
 In some cases there may be found expres- 
 sions which the reader would not desire to 
 adopt as his own. Possibly, too, in some in- 
 stances, an eye that looks for any thing like 
 theological flaws may be able to discover 
 something to expose. But it will find Christ ; 
 and that object may well draw away its vis- 
 ion from any real or imaginary defects. Why 
 
X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 should we not read, and be delighted, to find 
 Him ; and be little concerned whether it shall 
 please Him to come to us in the bright and 
 glorious raiment of the Mount of Transfig- 
 uration, or in the garments in which He 
 walked over the hills and valleys of Judea? 
 
 But this book needs no apology. It is well 
 and naturally written. No Christian can read 
 it without being helped by it in walking the 
 strait and narrow path. With its compre- 
 hensive view of the extent of the grace^ of 
 God in Christ Jesus I have been particu- 
 larly pleased ; while its whole tenor is such 
 as to make it wear the appearance of one 
 who comes to the Christian pilgrim as he is 
 wearily treading through the "wilderness of 
 this world," — like Greatheart, in the beautiful 
 allegory of Bunyan, — to inspire him with re- 
 newed courage, and cheer him on in his way. 
 We want words of cheer, in thjs our devious 
 journey. Amid the ponderous theological 
 works that some of us may read, and the 
 philosophical views of religious truth in which 
 we may love to indulge, we are in some dan- 
 
INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 ger of becoming too theoretic and cold. But 
 a practical work like this quickens our some- 
 what languid feelings, and strengthens us in 
 doing the will of God. 
 
 I have spoken of the prominence it gives, 
 in one or more of its chapters, to the com- 
 prehensiveness of the grace of God in Christ 
 Jesus. It extends the influence of this grace 
 to the blessings we receive from the works 
 and providence of God, as well as to favors 
 essentially spirituaL 
 
 Are we not in some danger of failing to 
 notice this, in the distinction we very properly 
 make between providence and grace? And 
 on account of this failure do we not lose 
 something of that glow of gratitude and felt 
 obligation for the multitudinous blessings we 
 receive from God, that we should otherwise 
 experience ? Do we not ask with less fervor, 
 " What shall I render unto the Lord for all 
 his benefits ? " 
 
 The close connection there is between God's 
 dispensations of providence and grace, — in- 
 cluding, as I would wish to do, for my pres- 
 
Xll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ent purpose, in our idea of his ways of prov- 
 idence, his works also in nature, — is so inti- 
 mate, that we may make continual use of one 
 of these departments of his blessed govern- 
 ment in illustrating the other. Particularly 
 may we thus use His works of nature and 
 ways in providence, to illustrate the revealed 
 truths of His grace. 
 
 We know that this is continually done, to 
 some extent, perhaps, by all who " believe th'at 
 God is, and that he is the rewarder of them 
 that diligently seek him." But may it not 
 be done more intelligently, as well as con- 
 stantly, than it has been done, by many of 
 us ? And with the Bible as our guide, may 
 we not use them in a more positive form, for 
 the enforcement of religious truth, than many 
 are accustomed to do ? 
 
 Butler has used the analogies between 
 them, with great power and success, to answer 
 objections to the general truths of revealed 
 religion. And the Eev. Mr. Barnes, of Phil- 
 adelphia, has shown with much clearness and 
 force, in an interesting and able review of 
 
INTRODUCTION. XIU 
 
 Butler's immortal work, that the principle of 
 his reasoning may be happily employed in 
 replying to the objections often urged against 
 each one of the principal doctrines of Evan- 
 gelical religion. 
 
 But may we not make more use than we 
 have done of these analogies, in positively il- 
 lustrating these doctrines, as well as in an- 
 swering objections against them? and this too 
 without running into any of the extravagan- 
 ces of what has been called "spiritualizing" 
 every object and event, without any regard to 
 Scriptural authority for doing so ? 
 
 I shall not attempt to introduce here any 
 examples of the forms in which I think this 
 might be done; inasmuch as this notice is 
 only introductory to what is before the reader, 
 in a volume written by another ; and in per- 
 forming such a service it would be inappro- 
 priate to present any particular sentiments or 
 theories of my own. Let me only, then, call 
 the attention of some of my fellow-travellers 
 through time to eternity to this little work ; 
 and venture to introduce it to them, as to a 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 fellow-passenger, who, judging from my own 
 experience, will both help and encourage them 
 on their way. Meanwhile, as allusion has 
 been already made to the beautiful allegory 
 of John Bunyan, it may not be amiss to take 
 leave of the reader, in the last line of his own 
 " Apology for his Book " : — 
 
 " 0, then come liither ! 
 And lay " this " book, thy head, and heart together." 
 
 G. W. B 
 
LESSONS AT THE CEOSS. 
 
 I. 
 
 SPIRITUAL LIFE, — ITS NATURE AND METHOD 
 
 The vague ideas which, it is to be feared, 
 prevail respecting spiritual or eternal life are 
 dangerous. They are hurtful. Oftentimes 
 they are fatal. 
 
 Many think thennselves in the high-road to 
 heaven who would at once see that they are 
 *in the road to death could you divest them of 
 their false ideas of what heaven is, and of 
 what spiritual life is. Many a darling hope of 
 heaven would explode, like a child's bubble, if 
 the false disciple of Christ should only see 
 what spiritual life is. Many a proud world- 
 ling, now wrapped in false security, would 
 tremble like an aspen-leaf in the tempest, 
 should he only see what spiritual life is. 
 Many a man would find his refuges of lies 
 
10 SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 
 
 crumbling over his head, if he only saw the 
 palpable, eternal contrariety between spiritual 
 life and his own every-day demeanor. And 
 many a Christian, now half fed, faint, and 
 sickly, would put on gladness and beauty 
 like a garment, had he a distinct, living, abid- 
 ing perception of the mode and nature of spir- 
 itual life. 
 
 He who thinks that it is merely a state of 
 enjoyment after death, is wrong. He who 
 fancies it to be a state of enjoyment to which 
 nothing but the power, the love, and the grace 
 of God are necessary, is wrong, — absurdly 
 wrong. He who views it as a state of enjoy- 
 ment which may be secured merely by the 
 deeds of outward obedience, in conjunction 
 with God's power and love, is also absurdly 
 wrong. He who thinks that it is a state of 
 enjoyment for the inheritance of which faith 
 and repentance are needless, or necessary 
 only as the terms of an arbitrary stipulation, 
 is wrong. And such wrong views lead to 
 corresponding errors in one's every-day course ; 
 to self-delusion ; to false consolation ; to false 
 confidence ; to false hope ; to eternal death. 
 
 By Life, we understand something more 
 than the perfect organization or structure of 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 11 
 
 that which has existence. We meet with a 
 plant perfect in its parts, but without vital ac- 
 tion. It has no life. We meet with another 
 which has vital action ; but the action is im- 
 paired, it is weakened, it is sluggish. There 
 is perfect organization, it may be ; bat there is 
 not life^ in the full meaning of the word. So 
 the Scripture speaks in reference to the soul ; 
 representing men whose souls were in exist- 
 ence^ and in action^ as spiritually dead. 
 
 By life^ we understand, and so do the 
 Scriptures, the thrift, the healthy^ happy^ ac- 
 tion, of any thing which has existence. Thus 
 vegetable life is the thrift, the well-being, the 
 good or happy state, of the plant. Animal 
 life is the thriving, healthy, happy state of the 
 body. When it is full of thrift; when its 
 functions are performed without impediment ; 
 when its food nourishes ; when its senses are 
 quick and keen and true ; when, thus, every 
 beauteous and good thing around it is tribu- 
 tary to its enjoyment ; and when it seems to 
 inhale enjoyment to the full extent of its pow- 
 ers, — we say it is full of life. Death is the 
 consummation of bodily woe ; the lowest, 
 most fearful condition to which the body can 
 be reduced. So the fulness of life — life be- 
 ing the opposite of death — is the body full 
 
 2 
 
12 SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 
 
 of enjoyment ; the best and highest condition 
 to which the body can be raised. 
 
 And thus, too, by spiritual life we mean, 
 and the Bible means, something over and 
 above spiritual existence; something over and 
 above the soul's perfect construction. By spir- 
 itual death, the Bible does not mean, that the 
 soul ceases to be ; nor that it has ceased to 
 act ; nor that it is bereft of any of its faculties 
 of action. And so by the soul's life the Bibfe 
 does not mean merely that the soul is exist- 
 ing ; or that it is acting; or that it is en- 
 dowed with ability for all action ; for all this 
 is comprised in that condition which the Bi- 
 ble calls the soul's death. Something more 
 than this, then, is distinctive of the soul's life. 
 In one word it is — happiness. When the ac- 
 tion of the soul is a happy action ; when its 
 thoughts are happy thoughts; when the iiji- 
 pressions which it receives from external ob- 
 jects are gladsome impressions; when its af- 
 fections are happy affections, — then the soul 
 has life. And when every successive thought, 
 and action, and impression, and affection, is 
 happy ; when every truth and event and ob- 
 ject upon which it looks seems clad in beauty; 
 when nothing can come in to darken, or af- 
 fright, or ruffle it, — that is fulness^ perfection, 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 13 
 
 of life, because it is fulness, perfection, of en- 
 joyment. 
 
 But more. This life of the soul, when it 
 exists in renewed man, is enduring. Adam 
 had originally spiritual life in its highest de- 
 gree. So had the angels who left their first 
 estate. They sinned, and thereby their spirit- 
 ual life became extinct; spiritual death suc- 
 ceeded. But wherever this life is found 
 among men since the Fall, it never expires. 
 That it can expire, — that true happiness may 
 cease, and cease for ever, though the soul's ex- 
 istence never should, — is true. The soul's 
 existence can — at least for aught we know 
 — come to an end ; but — it never ivill. And 
 so the soul's life, or happiness, can come to an 
 end ; but — it never ivill. We know that we 
 shall exist for ever, because God declares it. 
 And we know that, if we once have spiritual 
 life, it will endure for ever, because God de- 
 clares that. He says, that it is life eternal. He 
 declares th^t he will maintain it, so that, al- 
 though it can, it never ivill fail. 
 
 But if spiritual life is the happiness of the 
 soul, then it is not necessarily something 
 which pertains only to a future state of being. 
 Its perfect happiness — fulness of life — may 
 not be found here ; but its happiness or life in 
 
14 SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. * 
 
 some measure may be, and is. It is as capa 
 ble of happiness to-day as it will be to-mor- 
 row, or after the death of the body. It has 
 the same capacities for enjoyment, the same 
 faculties of perception and of joyous action, 
 now, that it ever will have or ever can have. 
 It is perfect in its construction, perfect in its 
 endowments ; and thus it can be no more ca- 
 pable of life in another condition, than in its 
 present ; no more, in eternity than at this mo- 
 ment. Its life may beg-in here, and does, and 
 without any alteration of the soul's construc- 
 tion ; though that life is matured and per- 
 fected only in heaven. And so says the Bi- 
 ble. "God hath given us" — hath already 
 given us — " eternal life." " He that hath 
 the Son hath life.'*" " He that believeth on 
 him that sent me," says our Saviour, " hath 
 
 everlasting life, is passed from death 
 
 unto life." 
 
 But we have said very little about spiritual 
 life, or that life of the soul which is eternal, 
 when we have said, that it is the soul's happi- 
 ness. The question comes up. What is the 
 soul's happiness ? 
 
 The immortal spirit which has enslaved it- 
 self to the body ; which has sold itself to serve 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 15 
 
 the body's appetites and pleasures ; which, as 
 the Bible expresses it, "walks after the flesh," 
 — has its petty pleasures, its mongrel delights; 
 but is it happy ? The man who tasks body 
 and mind, who devotes his highest, his immor- 
 tal energies to the toils, the anxieties, the per- 
 plexities of getting wealth, has his moments 
 of pleasure. But has he happiness ? The de- 
 luded man who is spurred along through the 
 highways and by-ways of gayety and frivolity, 
 of fashion and dissipation, has his hours of 
 laughter and wild intoxication. But has he 
 happiness ? He who drinks at better foun- 
 tains ; who finds his highest wish answered in 
 the quietness and brightness of his own fire- 
 side, in the unchecked outgoings of his heart 
 there, has his pleasures. But is he a happy 
 man ? Is he satisfied ? In each of these 
 cases, — is it well with the soul ? Is it fed ? 
 Is it thriving ? Is it at peace ? Has it life ? 
 Has it no sensations of famine, — of faint- 
 ness, — of dissatisfaction, — of disturbance, — 
 to which it finds no antidote ? 
 
 No ; these sparkling fountains of pleasure 
 do not give life. The soul may glean up 
 many good things along its pilgrimage. It 
 may taste many transient sweets. And yet it 
 may have no happiness, no life, no earnest of 
 immortal bliss. 
 
16 SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 
 
 Spiritual life is — the soul acting according 
 to its law. 
 
 The whole universe is subject to laws. The 
 system of worlds is subject to laws. If these 
 laws are observed, the beauty, the order, the 
 harmony, the well-being, of the whole are pre- 
 served. If these laws are disturbed, the bal- 
 ance of the system is gone, and its utter wreck 
 ensues. Every tree and plant is subject to 
 laws. If they are fulfilled, vegetable thrift and 
 life are the result. If those laws are not ful- 
 filled, sickness and death follow. Animal ex- 
 istence is subject to laws. Every pain, every 
 disease, every disturbance, is because those 
 laws, in some respect, are disregarded. The 
 body is so made that it cannot maintain ease 
 and enjoyment, if its several functions are in- 
 terrupted. Every infringement of its Hws 
 brings evil. It was made to find happiness 
 only in their observance ; and without that ob 
 servance, it cannot find happiness. 
 
 The soul also is subject to law. It is dc 
 signed to act according to the law. It is iro 
 made^ that, if its operations accord with its law, 
 it is happy. To observe its law is its only 
 possible method of happiness. Every woe 
 springs up out of its deviation from law ; just 
 as the plant springes up from the seed ; just as 
 
&PIRITUAL LIFE, ITPS NATURE. 17 
 
 the fruit springs forth from the branch. Every 
 deviation from its law brings woe, just as sure- 
 ly, just as necessarily, as a deviation from the 
 body's law brings the body's woe. This is 
 because the soul is so made, or constituted. 
 Lawlessness is its death ; obedience, its life, 
 its happiness, — necessarily. It is going con- 
 trary to nature; it is doing violence to itself; 
 it is disarranging, upturning, confounding, its 
 own elements, — when it is acting contrary to 
 its law. We might as well expect the body 
 to live beneath the waves of the sea ; the flesh 
 to glow with pleasure in a furnace ; the heart 
 to pulsate full and gladly under the knife, — 
 as to expect the soul to be happy w^hile diso- 
 beying its law. Let its thoughts go forth as 
 that law prescribes ; let its will acquiesce in 
 that law ; let it act as it was made to act, — 
 then, and only then, is it happy. Its happi- 
 ness is just as dependent upon its right action, 
 as upon its existence. Upon its acting as it 
 was made to act ; upon its loving what it was 
 made to love ; upon its serving what it was 
 made to serve ; upon its confiding in that in 
 which it was made to confide, — the soul's 
 happiness is as dependent upon these, as upon 
 the will, the power, the love, or the grace of 
 its Creator. If you are going wrong ; if you 
 
18 SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 
 
 are loving, confiding, hoping, willing, in defi. 
 ance of your law, you must change your very 
 spiritual constitution, and thus adapt it to 
 some other law (which is absurd) ; or you must 
 change the method of your spiritual conduct ; 
 or you must for ever die, — you must be for 
 ever a stranger to spiritual happiness. When 
 its affections move in accordance with its law, 
 the soul moves in beauty ; it moves in har- 
 mony ; it moves in peace ; and thus to move 
 is life. When they do not, then it " is like the 
 troubled sea when it cannot rest, whose wa- 
 ters cast up mire and dirt." It is in tumult. 
 It is in tempest. And this is — death. 
 
 But what IS the soul's law ? How was it 
 made to act ? 
 
 To devote its powers and affections to God. 
 To exist in the steady and affectionate percep- 
 tion of God. This is its law. This is the 
 mode in which it was made and fitted to em- 
 ploy its powers. This is its life. This is its 
 happiness. It must have God, or it dies. It 
 must perceive God as he is, and put forth its 
 chief affection toward him, or it is a fountain 
 of sorrow to itself, — a sea of tossing and tem- 
 pest, — a chaos of terrific elements, — a sap- 
 less branch broken from the vine of its nativ- 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 19 
 
 ity, — a wandering star darting from its orbit 
 and speeding on to the blackness of dark- 
 ness. 
 
 God is the soul's life ; God loved, God 
 adored, God as the focal point of all its out- 
 goings, God as the centre, the end, of all its 
 affections. For God, the soul was made. For 
 the enjoyment of God, all its powers were 
 framed and fitted. With its eye open to the 
 affectionate perception of God ; with all its 
 affections harmonized, balanced, sanctified, by 
 God's will, — it is full of life. It is full of 
 happiness because it responds and moves, looks 
 and loves, according to its law. It is full of 
 happiness because it is full of God. 
 
 But God is known only through the Son. 
 " No man knoweth the Father but the Son, 
 and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal 
 him." Christ is the manifestation of God. 
 " The knowledge of the glory of God is given 
 in the face of Jesus Christ." There — is " the 
 brightness of the Father's glory." There — is 
 " the express image of his person." There 
 — is the true God. There — is eternal life. 
 " Christ is the bread of life." What food is to 
 the body, such is Christ to the soul. " He 
 that hath the Son hath life." In the outgo- 
 ings ^f our souls to him, — in our affectionate 
 
20 SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 
 
 perception of lii^r; excellence, — in our eager 
 searchings into his glory, — ^ve find life* We 
 have been constructed for this ; in every part 
 and nieniber. Onr spiritual vision is adapted 
 to that beauty. Our spiritual appetite Is or- 
 dained and proportioned to tliat bread. Our 
 atVections are dependent for satisfaction upon 
 that fulness. Turn away from Christ as the 
 supreme object of our love, and we perish. 
 " He that hath not the Son hath not life." 
 Turn toward him as the central point of our 
 aflVctions, and we live. 
 
 Would you see what is spiritual life in 
 heaven ? Would you know what is hap|)i- 
 ness there ? Would you learn what viakes 
 heaven ? There — Christ is the manifestation 
 of God. There — lie is the brightness of the 
 Father's glory. There — he is the bread of 
 life. Saint and angel are looking upon " the 
 throne of God and of the Lamb." Their love 
 goes out to Christ. Their confidence is in 
 Christ. Their song is of Christ. Their life, 
 their bliss, their heaven, is — Christ ; Christ, in 
 the fulness of his glory ; Christ, all glorious 
 with redeeming love ; Christ, all grace ; Christ, 
 all gracious to their praise and love. The soul 
 there has — life. The soul there has — Christ 
 The soul there has its life hi Christ ; attuning 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE. ITS NATURE. 2m 
 
 its afTections to his will; bathing itself in the 
 fulness of hid glory ; and drinking of the waters 
 which flow from beneath his throne. 
 
 So the soul here that lives, lives upon Christ 
 Its happiness comes from him. It is made 
 glad in proportion to, and by, its perception of 
 him. Its chief joy is the ingathering of his 
 excellent glory. Its subordinate joys are the 
 quiet, peaceful movements of its subordinate 
 affections according to the will and pattern of 
 Christ. Its life is sustained in the closet by 
 its " fellowship wjth the Father, and his Son 
 Jesus Christ." The spring-tide of its life is 
 when it seats itself beneath the cross, and 
 looks at the amazing glory of the Godhead in 
 the sufferings of Redeeming Love. Its richest, 
 purest joys are when it is so filled with its 
 views of Christ, that it longs for an angel's 
 harp and a seraph's tongue to celebrate his 
 praise. This — is Life. And this is life which 
 outward troubles cannot touch. This is a tide 
 of bliss which worldly adversity and poverty 
 and bereavement only swell to a higher mark ; 
 because they impel the sufferer, with the more 
 eagerness and thankfulness and closeness, to 
 Christ ; because they impel him to fresh and 
 larger draughts from the fountain of Christ's 
 sympathy, fellowship, and love. 
 
22 SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 
 
 Happiness is the right action of the soul to- 
 ward Christ. Where this right action is, there 
 are ten thousand thousand streams of happiness 
 flowing in upon it. Wherever, and in whatever^ 
 it discerns any trace or interpretation of Christ, 
 it gains a foretaste of heaven. Every memento 
 of him, — every proof of his power, his pres- 
 ence, or his love, — whether in the Word, in 
 the doctrine of Atonement, in the election of 
 grace, in the typical ordinances of the Gospel, 
 in the events of providence, or in the beauty 
 and bounty of nature, — is a tributary stream 
 of blessing. It is a drop of " honey out of the 
 Rock." It is a fresh draught to a thirsty soul 
 from " the spiritual rock that foUoweth him, 
 and that rock is Christ." It is a taste of 
 " angels' food." It is a gleaning of the manna 
 of heaven. " He that hath the Son hath life, 
 and he that hath not the Son of God hath not 
 life." " Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of 
 man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in 
 you. Whoso eateth his flesh and drinketh his 
 blood hath eternal life. For his flesh is meat 
 indeed, and his blood is drink indeed." 
 
 This is the method of spiritual life ; this and 
 this only. Thus spiritual life is not mere en- 
 joyment. It is the soul enjoying Christ in the 
 exercise of its affections toward him. It is the 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 23 
 
 soul acting as it was made to act ; the soul 
 letting out its affections toward Christ rightlij ; 
 putting the seal of Christ's proprietorship upon 
 its every member, upon every affection, upon 
 every power. Perfect life, perfect bliss, is the 
 movement of all its powers, in unison with 
 its law, around " the brightness of the Father's 
 glory," perfectly, truly, unceasingly. There 
 every thought and every affection and every 
 passion, every object and event and truth, is 
 tributary to its happiness ; because the water 
 which Christ gives is within it " a well of water 
 springing up into everlasting life." 
 
 This consecration of the soul's powers, this 
 employment of them, is the law of our con- 
 duct, the method of spiritual life. But this 
 law is not something which God has devised 
 to show his sovereignty withal. This law, 
 that the happiness of the soul shall be found 
 only in affectionate intercourse with Christ, is 
 not something which God has ordained merely 
 because he pleased to ordain it ; or because of 
 our peculiar condition as sinners ; or because 
 he could and had a right to make such terms 
 of life with us sinners as he had a mind to 
 make. No such thing. It is our law, because 
 we are constituted as we are ; because it is the 
 only mode of happiness, the only mode of 
 
24 SPIRITUAL LIFE, — ITS NATURE. 
 
 spiritual life, possible for creatures with such 
 endowments as ours ; because it must be our 
 law while we remain in respect to our spiritual 
 constitution as we were made. And it must 
 for ever be our law, because our endowments 
 and our wants can never be changed. Circum- 
 stances will change. Situation will change. 
 Every thing to which change is possible may 
 change ; but the soul's relation to Christ, 
 never ; the soul's dependence upon Christ, 
 never ; the soul's high-born faculties, and its 
 tremendous necessities, never, — never. This 
 law is the soul's law everywhere ; on earth, in 
 heaven, in hell, in time, in eternity. It is man's 
 law. It is the saint's law. It is the angel's 
 law. It is the law of all. Obeyed, it yields 
 life. Disregarded, it yields death, — death to 
 the deathless soul. 
 
 The life of the soul cannot be sustained ex- 
 cept by the right exercise of its affections 
 heavenward, Godward, Christward ; therefore 
 it will not do to suppose that nothing more is 
 necessary for us than the forth-putting energy 
 of Divine love, power, grace. Something more 
 is necessary; as much so as what there is in 
 God. " He that hath the Son hath life. He 
 that hath not the Son of God hath not life." 
 
 The life of the soul cannot be sustained ex- 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 25 
 
 cept by the right exercise of its affections to- 
 ward Christ ; therefore to say that warm affec- 
 tions and spotless honesty toward our fellow- 
 men will insure our salvation, is absurd. " He 
 that hath not the Son of God hath not life." 
 
 The life of the soul cannot be sustained ex- 
 cept by the right exercise of its affections to- 
 ward Christ ; therefore for the Christian to 
 think to find enjoyment, or to be clad in 
 beauty, or to bring forth fruit, or to glorify 
 God before men, while his eye is riveted else- 
 where than on Christ, is absurd. " He that 
 hath not the Son of God hath not life." 
 
 The life of the soul cannot be sustained ex- 
 cept by the right exercise of its affections to- 
 ward Christ ; therefore to suppose faith and 
 repentance to be merely terms upon which 
 God has arbitrarily stipulated to make us 
 happy, is absurd. " He that belie veth on the 
 Son hath everlasting life, and he that believeth 
 not the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of 
 God abideth on him." " This is eternal life, 
 to know the only true God, and Jesus Christ." 
 
 Is it irksome to you to think of Christ? Do 
 you let out your best affections somewhere 
 else than toward him ? Do you find no spirit- 
 ual refreshment in praying to him ? in reading 
 
26 SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS NATURE. 
 
 of him ? in hearing of him ? in seeing him in 
 the atonement, in the sacrament, in the events 
 of his providence, and in the works of his hands, 
 — in the moon and the stars which he has or- 
 dained ? Then your soul is wrong, — all wrong ; 
 not only guilty, but acting' wrong, — acting in 
 defiance of its very law. And because so act- 
 ing, and in so acting, it is all disarranged, — it 
 is all upturned. You are doing violence to 
 your own soul ; using it as it was never made 
 to be used. You have " no life in you." You 
 are dead, — plucked up by the roots, — wither- 
 ing, famishing, fruitless, joyless, hopeless. You 
 are going down to your grave all unfit for 
 heaven ; all ripening for the second death. 
 
II. 
 
 SPIRITUAL LIFE, — ITS GROWTH. 
 
 We never can enter heaven unless our souls 
 are spotless. We must bear the perfect image 
 of Christ. " Every thought must be brought 
 into captivity to the obedience of Christ"; 
 every motion of the affections must be in exact 
 accordance with the law and will of God ; 
 every disposition to do wrong must be slain ; 
 every feature of the inner man must be just 
 like an angel's, just like Christ's, — or we shall 
 not enter into rest ; we shall surely lie down 
 in sorrow. We must first " come unto the 
 measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ." 
 There must be glory upon us like Christ's glorv. 
 There must be beauty upon us like Christ's 
 beauty. There must be perfectness within us 
 like Christ's perfectness. We must be " with- 
 out spot or blemish or any such thing." 
 
 No truth is more clearly revealed in the Bi- 
 ble than this. 
 
 Heaven is the soul's perfect happiness ; and 
 heaven is the soul's perfect holiness. There is 
 no heaven without a perfect likeness to Christ, 
 
28 SPIRITUAL LIFE, 'ITS GROWTH. 
 
 any more than there is heaven without perfect 
 happiness. And this is so, not because God 
 has said it shall be so, but because he has 
 made us such that it must be so. It is so, not 
 merely because God must disconnect happi- 
 ness and sin, or else wink at sin ; not merely 
 because he must deny heaven to the imperfect 
 in order to be consistent as a governor, — an 
 administrator of law ; but because perfect holi- 
 ness is essential, in itself, to perfect happiness ; 
 and that, too, irrespective of Divine consisten- 
 cy. There is necessity for perfect holiness as 
 a condition of heaven here, — here, — in the 
 very wants and capacities of the soul itself. 
 Hence the necessity of moral renovation to 
 those who are " dead in trespasses at>d sins " ; 
 the necessity of turning about from the law- 
 less misuse of our faculties to that use of them 
 for which we were made ; the necessity of be- 
 coming " new creatures in Christ Jesus." And 
 inasmuch as the sinner is ''''fully set to do evil '* 
 with his faculties, hence the necessity that this 
 moral renovation, if effected at all, be effected 
 by the Holy Spirit. There must be a begin- 
 ning of holiness. There must be a beginning 
 of resemblance to Christ. There must be a 
 beginning to that life of the soul which is by 
 the birth through the Holy Spirit, as well as 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS GROWTH. 29 
 
 to that natural life which is by the birth of the 
 body. There must be a first right emotion of 
 the soul Godward and Christward in order to 
 spiritual life, as well as a first filling of the 
 langs, or a first throb of the heart, in order to 
 the life of the body. 
 
 But the commencement of spiritual life is 
 not its perfection. ' That exercise of the affec- 
 tions toward Christ which constitutes the life 
 of the soul, does not constitute fitness for 
 heaven. Love to Christ is not always perfect 
 love. Resemblance to Christ is not always 
 perfect resemblance. There is a wide differ- 
 ence between spiritual life in heaven, and 
 spiritual life on earth. There is a wide differ- 
 ence between the joy which fills the heart of 
 an angel, and that which first beats in the 
 heart of a new-born soul on earth. A differ- 
 ence not in kind, but in degree ; not in nature, 
 but in strength, in vigor, in fulness. But all 
 this difference must cease. The intermediate 
 ground between the holiness of the new-born 
 convert and the glorified saint must all be 
 passed over. The babe must " come unto a 
 perfect man " before he can stand side by side 
 with the patriarch or the angel above. 
 
 The difference between spiritual life and spir- 
 
so SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS GROWTH. 
 
 itual death is this, — when dead^ the soul's 
 affections are employed without reference to 
 God's law. The man loves what he pleases 
 to love, and as he pleases to love ; he does what 
 he pleases to do, and as he pleases to do ; with- 
 out stopping to ask, — " What is God's will ? " 
 "What is right?" " What is wrong ? " "How 
 has God made me? " " For what has God made 
 me ? " He just throws himself upon the objects 
 around him, and loves them, and serves them, 
 and lets alone the objects above him, — God, his 
 Creator, his Saviour. Alive, the soul lets out 
 its chief affection to Him who made it ; asks 
 for God's will, for God's glory, for God's law, 
 in the direction and in the measure of its emo- 
 tions ; loves what God pleases it should love, 
 and strives to love as God pleases it should love. 
 Dead, it so directs and proportions its affec- 
 tions, that it gathers as many sorrows as it does 
 pleasures, as many griefs as it does delights ; it 
 so behaves, that it is dependent solely upon the 
 restraints of Divine grace, and upon the mush- 
 room objects of this present state, for its present 
 exemption from perfect misery. Alice, its ef- 
 forts to control its affections aright are efforts 
 each tributary to its happiness. So far as it 
 succeeds, so far it finds happiness. All its 
 emotions which are in accordance with its rule 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS GROWTH. 31 
 
 of action are heavenly and blissful, — its emo- 
 tions toward God, its emotions toward the 
 world. 
 
 Its first efforts are feeble. Its first delights are 
 feeble. Its first efforts are imperfect, — very, very 
 imperfect; and so are its first delights. The first 
 outfiowings of its love toward Christ, though 
 they may flash and sparkle like the mountain 
 spring in the sunbeam, are but a little rippling 
 stream ; though they may leap and bound with 
 gladness, they are still small; though they may 
 seem clear as crystal, and all-beauteous in their 
 pureness, yet they are shallow and of a span's 
 breadth. But as they go on, they swell ; they 
 deepen ; they widen. They may have less of 
 sprightliness, but they have more of strength. 
 They may have less of clearness, but it is be- 
 cause they have more of depth. In other words, 
 spiritual life is progressive in this respect, — the 
 love for Christ is becoming stronger and strong- 
 er; the heart is devoted to him with more fervor 
 and with less fluctuation ; its affections toward 
 earthly objects, — towards wealth and kindred, 
 — are becoming more chaste and heaven-like, 
 and tranquil ; " the issues of life," the conversa- 
 tion, the conduct, are more and more like Christ's. 
 Of course spiritual enjoyment is proportionally 
 augmenting; the enjoyment of Christ is more 
 
32 SPIRITUAL LIFE, — ITS GROWTH. 
 
 and more ; the enjoyment of Christ's outward 
 blessings is more and more ; and thus the soul 
 goes on from obedience to obedience, from love 
 to love, from grace to grace, from strength to 
 strength, from gladness to gladness ; till it gets 
 the victory over the last corruption, attains to 
 spiritual maturity, wakes up in the perfect like- 
 ness of Christ and to "fulness of joy." 
 
 There are slips in the Christian course. 
 There are sad, sinful, shameful relapses from 
 the onward, upward tendency of spiritual life. 
 There are many wanton and presumptuous 
 exposures to temptation, which bring their 
 cursing blights upon the soul's holy growth, 
 and shroud it in darkness, and buffet it with 
 tempests. But still it advances. It recovers 
 what it has lost, and then rises to higher holi- 
 ness and richer joys. By and by, it becomes 
 steadfast in its love ; perfect in its efforts ; per- 
 fect in its glories ; perfect in its enjoyments ; 
 ripe for heaven. But it reaches this point, it 
 surmounts the world, it gains the summit of 
 perfection, it ascends unto fulness of joys, step 
 by step. 
 
 The little bird, just fledged, flutters from its 
 nest with chirping and gladness. But it must 
 warble many a solitary, broken note ; it must 
 take many a blundering, devious flight from 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS GROWTH. 33 
 
 bush to bush, from field to field ; and then, it 
 can go upwards ; then, it can wing its way 
 straight and strong; then, it can utter its song 
 rich and clear. So the soul, just brought into 
 " newness of life," must make many an effort 
 in unpractised weakness, and glean up many 
 imperfect and fluctuating joys, and sing many 
 a broken, faltering note, ere it can be attuned 
 fully to the new song, matured to the stature 
 and strength of an angel, and able to " mount 
 up with wings as eagles." 
 
 But I drop this course of thought. I have 
 said enough preliminary to my object. Let 
 me (will you?) take you aside, my Christian 
 brother, and whisper a word or two in your 
 private ear in reference to what I have now 
 stated. 
 
 Are you a weak and trembling believer in 
 Christ? Is there a feeble, fluttering motion of 
 spiritual life within you ? Does it sometimes 
 eeem good and reviving to you to get a twi- 
 light perception of Christ's excellence ? so good 
 that you long for the full disclosures of eternal 
 day? Does it seem to you that you would 
 like to twine your affections strongly, steadily, 
 upon him ? Yes. There is sweetness to your 
 ear in the sound of his name. The mention 
 
34 SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS GROWTH. 
 
 of his love quickens the beatings of your heart, 
 and the light of your eye. Your emotions to- 
 wards him are sometimes discernible and happy. 
 But they are so faint, so few, so far between, — 
 they are so different from what they should be, 
 that you point to these very feelings as wit- 
 nesses against yourself. Yes, you are affright- 
 ed because you lack the vigor, the completeness, 
 the sympathy, of spiritual manhood. You sit 
 down to look at the feeble, fitful affections of 
 your heart toward Christ ; you sit down and 
 mark the great difference between yourself and 
 what you ought to be, — the vast difference 
 between yourself and those who have " sat at 
 Christ's feet" for years, between your knowl- 
 edge of Christ and theirs, — and you are fright- 
 ened. 
 
 Frightened at what? Because you are not 
 strong in faith. Because, as you are not strong 
 in faith, and strong in hope, and strong in spir- 
 itual joys, it seems to you that you have no 
 faith and no hope and no happiness. You 
 argue, that because you are weak, therefore you 
 are dead; that because you have not yet been 
 able to point to your own abundant fruits, there- 
 fore you bear neither blossom nor bud; that be- 
 caus*^ vour joys have not been strong and rich 
 diid ."Steady, therefore you have no union to 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS GROWTH. 35 
 
 Christ, — no spiritual life at all. Why! my 
 brother beloved, your reasoning is a babe's rea- 
 soning ! Your judgment is a babe's judgment. 
 You talk and think very like a babe in Christ 
 Jesus ; yes, — I repeat it, — like a babe in Christ 
 Jesus. You admit, — .you cannot deny, — that 
 there is something like attraction between you 
 and Christ ; some faint yearning within you to 
 go and "sit at his feet"; some feeling like this, — 
 that you would love to hold communion with 
 him if you dared, or if you could, or if you knew 
 how to, — that it would be to you a sweet 
 privilege to discover his excellence and love if 
 
 you might What is all this within you ? 
 
 What is it but the infant motion of spiritual 
 life ? What is it but the fruit of the spirit ? 
 Would the natural heart, would the man "dead 
 in trespasses and sins," sigh for the perception 
 of Christ? Never; never. Therefore I say, 
 that, if those feelings are your's, you are a babe 
 in Christ. But you infer, that because of their 
 littleness you have no ground to hope that you 
 " have passed from death unto life." 
 
 Let me tell you, — infancy comes before 
 childhood ; childhood, before manhood. He 
 who would become a saint in heaven must first 
 be a babe in Christ. The beginning of spiritual 
 life is always infantile, weak, unsteady, small. 
 
36 SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS GROWTH. 
 
 Is it right, is it rational even, for you to suppose 
 that the new-born child of God should, at the 
 first pulsation of spiritual life, overleap all the 
 weakness and timidity of childhood, and stand 
 forth at once in all the strength of perfect man- 
 hood, — "in the measure of the stature of the 
 fulness of Christ " ? Is it right, is it reasonable, 
 for you to suppose that spiritual life of a day's 
 duration should be as strongly marked as that 
 of a year's duration ? that that of a year's, or of 
 three or five years' duration, should approach as 
 near maturity as that of " an old disciple " ? Is 
 it reasonable for you to say, that, as you have 
 not the spiritual vigor and the spiritual comfort 
 of one who has been long in Christ's school, 
 therefore you have none ? "Why I it is just 
 as though I should find a stripling of half a 
 score of years trembling under the awful ap- 
 prehension that he had none of the elements 
 of manhood, because, forsooth, he fell short o\ 
 manhood in stature, and strength, and wisdom. 
 Surely, the only comfort I could give him would 
 be to tell him that he ivas a child, — a foolish 
 child indeed ; but a very child, pushing upward, 
 day by day, to a better stature and a better 
 understanding. The only comfort I could give 
 him would be to tell him that he ivas a child ; 
 and that in his childhood was his hope and 
 promise of manhood. 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS GROWTH. 37 
 
 And so I would tell you^ my brother. The 
 smallness of your affection for Christ is the 
 hope and the promise of maturity in Christ. 
 The feebleness of your faith is the groundwork 
 of a strong faith. The faintness of your spir- 
 itual perception is evidence that you see. The 
 tremulousness of your spiritual enjoyments is 
 an earnest of eternal life. Spiritual life is pro- 
 gressive. Therefore its beginnings must be 
 small, and weak, and imperfect, and fluctuating. 
 
 Again. Is there within yoii^ my brother, a 
 little, feeble outgoing of your affections to 
 Christ? a little, feeble effort to conform your- 
 self within and without to him ? a little, feeble 
 measure of delight as you think or read or hear 
 of him who died for you ? a little, feeble warm- 
 ing of your soul as you seek him betimes in 
 your closet ? How came these things there ? 
 Who gave them birth? What are they? The 
 least such feeling within, — be it so small even 
 that you can scarcely discern it, — the least such 
 feeling within you is of the work of God. It 
 is the feeble beginning of eternal life. It is a 
 matter in which you ought to rejoice. It is 
 something which ought to fill you with grati- 
 tude. It is something which ought to quicken 
 you to outbursting praise. It is of grace. It 
 
38 SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS GROWTH. 
 
 is of God. It is all of grace. It is of pure 
 grace. It is the budding of spiritual life in the 
 heart of one who was bound and cursed with 
 spiritual death. It is a bow of promise arch- 
 ing over a dark and polluted heart. And for 
 that, — yes, for that imperfect, feeble, infantile 
 motion of your feelings towards Christ, — you 
 ought to utter praise ; unblushing, open praise. 
 For that, — little as it is, — you ought to re- 
 ceive the seal of Christ's covenant, and utter 
 the open vow of consecration, and pledge him 
 your soul and body in the cup of the sacra- 
 ment. 
 
 And more. That motion of your feelings 
 towards Christ; that inclination to weep with 
 penitence and joy as you think of his dying 
 love; that melting tenderness of spirit which 
 you sometimes feel toward him, gentle and 
 child-like as it is, — is GocVs work. It is a 
 work of grace. It is ground for hope that you 
 " have the Son of God"; that you have Life. 
 It is the first swelling of a little seed which 
 shall sprout and shoot up and grow unto per 
 fed Life. But it is a small and feeble, though 
 a precious thing; therefore watch it; guard 
 it ; cherish it ; culture it. Go with it to the 
 mercy-seat. Go with it to the cross. Go 
 with it, day by day, to the closet ; that there it 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS GROWTH. 39 
 
 may be nourished by your communings, by 
 j^our tender and tearful and confidential fellow- 
 ship, with your Redeemer. It is a small and 
 feeble thing to-day ; therefore take care, — 
 take precious care, — lest something over- 
 whelm it and stunt it to the bitter sorrow of 
 your soul. There it is. God has implanted 
 it. Deal well with it, for it is an earnest of 
 his grace ; it is the purchase of Redeeming 
 blood ; it is the germ of your soul's immortal 
 life ; it is the only pledge of your salvation. 
 Spiritual life is progressive. Its beginnings 
 are small and tender. They must not be de- 
 spised. They must not be neglected. They 
 must have tender nursing and care. They 
 must be trained and guarded by prayer, by 
 truth, by Christian sympathy, by Christian fel- 
 Vowship, by all — all — the means of spiritual 
 
 culture. " Work out your own salvation, 
 
 for it is God that worketh in you." 
 
 Once more. Is there within yoii^ my broth- 
 er in covenant, — is there within you a little, 
 feeble outgoing of your affection toward 
 Christ ? a little, feeble, fluttering pulsation of 
 spiritual life ? And how long has it been 
 there? Ten, fifteen, twenty years? What! 
 and is it yet feeble? yet faint? yet small? 
 Are you yet a babe? yet a babe in your 
 
40 SPIRITUAL LIFE, ITS GROWTH. 
 
 knowledge, in your love, in your hope, in your 
 faith, in the pureness and beauty of your out- 
 ward life ? Shame I shame I Sin I sin I 
 
 And did you care only to be " born again " ? 
 only to be adopted ? only to get the signet- 
 mark of salvation ? only to have a little, weak, 
 infant hope of heaven, — a something that you 
 could turn to and cling to in trouble ? Why, 
 " you ought to be a teacher, and now you have 
 need that one teach you again which be the 
 first principles of the oracles of God"! And, 
 at this rate, when will you be ready to depart ? 
 when ^dll you be fit for heaven ? when will 
 your spirit be in perfect unison with Christ, 
 with saints, with angels? At tins rate, — 
 when ? Remember, spiritual life is progres- 
 sive. And it has remained in its infancy in 
 you because it has had no nourishment. And 
 it has had no nourishment because you have 
 not eaten freely of " the bread of life " ; be- 
 cause you have not lived in close and daily 
 fellowship with Christ ; because you have neg- 
 lected the fellowship of his saints. It is your 
 shame. It is your sin, my brother. Not your 
 shame and your sin, that you have these 
 symptoms of spiritual life, or that you are a 
 babe in Christ ; but that you have been a 
 babe so long ; that you have not grown in ho- 
 
SPIRITUAL LIFEj-^-ITS GROWTH. ll 
 
 liness, in hope, in faith, in strength, in spiritual 
 happiness. Remember, spiritual life is pro- 
 gressive. You must " come unto a perfect 
 man, unto the measure of the stature of the 
 fulness of Christ" You viiist. You must, or 
 you cannot enter his courts ; you cannot see 
 his glory ; you cannot wear your crown ; you 
 cannot take your harp. Then drop your sin ; 
 drop your shame. " Put away the childish 
 things " of spiritual lile. Give yourself to the 
 w^ork of its culture ; so that, when he comes, 
 you may meet your Lord in peace. Make 
 haste, — make haste to ripen for heaven. " The 
 day is far spent."' The work is a great work, 
 and it must — it must be done. 
 
III. 
 
 DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 
 
 St. Paul was a Christian. He was Christ's. 
 He was the property of Christ in the fullest 
 sense, — in a peculiar sense. He was Christ's 
 by consecration ; Christ's by service. He had 
 baptized his every member unto Christ. He 
 had stamped the signet-mark of voluntary 
 surrender to Christ upon every bodily power ; 
 upon every power of thought; upon every in- 
 ward affection. Christ was his Lord, his Mas- 
 ter ; he, Christ's humble, happy, devoted, stead- 
 fast servant. 
 
 He had not always been Christ's property 
 in this sense. Once he was " a blasphemer, 
 and a persecutor, and injurious." The life 
 which he once lived in the flesh was against 
 Christ, wholly and bitterly. But the life 
 which he lived when he wrote to the Galatian 
 church was another life. It was for Christ. 
 It was by Christ. It was ivith Christ. It was 
 in Christ. Speaking of himself and his Chris- 
 tian associates, he says : — " None of us liveth 
 to himself, and no man dieth to himself: foi 
 
DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 43 
 
 whether we live, we live unto the Lord ; and 
 whether we die, we die unto the Lord ; wheth- 
 er we live, therefore, or die, we are the Lord's." 
 
 Such was the life of the chief of the Apos- 
 tles. Not a life devoted to himself, or to his 
 kindred, or to the Church ; but a life devoted 
 to Christ; tributary to h'is own good, to the 
 good of his kindred, to the good of the Church, 
 onlij as they were Christ's, — only for Christ's 
 sake,— only in the way of serving Christ. 
 
 What Paul did as Christ's servant, we 
 ought to do. What Paul was as Christ's, 
 we ought to be. The life which he lived, we 
 ought to live. We ought to be as much, as 
 steadfastly, as happily, devoted to Christ as 
 Paul was. Christ has loved us as truly as he 
 loved Paul. He has given himself for us as 
 well as for Paul. We have as truly lived 
 against Christ, as Paul did. And we have the 
 means of sustaining a Christian life, — a con- 
 sistent, uniform, beauteous Christian life, — 
 as well as Paul. Our obligations are no less 
 than his. Our ingratitude and perverseness 
 have been no less. Our means of grace are 
 no less. Our outward temptations, and our 
 inward corruptions, are no greater. 
 
 Paul maintained the consistency and beauty 
 of his course " by faith in Christ Jesus." " The 
 
44 DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 
 
 life whicn I now live in the flesh," said he, " I 
 live by the faith of the Son of God." When 
 he bore the taunts and buff'etings of the San- 
 hedrim with a bold, but meek spirit, it was 
 " by the faith of the Son of God." When he 
 stood up alone before the supreme court of 
 Athens, and spake against the religion of their 
 fathers, it was " by the faith of the Son of 
 God." When he made Felix tremble, and 
 woke Agrippa to compunction, it was "by the 
 faith of the Son of God." When he overcame 
 temptation ; when he fought against his in- 
 dwelling sin and against wild beasts in the 
 theatre ; when he counted worldly things but 
 loss; when he bore up, under full joy, against 
 the maddened tide of persecution ; when he 
 was led to crucifixion glorying in the prospect 
 of a martyr's death, and singing hymns of 
 thanksgiving and victory, — it was "by the 
 faith of the Son of God." This was the spring 
 of his Christian life. This was the secret of hip 
 Christian consistency. This was the means 
 of his Christian triumphs. All his devoted- 
 ness to Christ was sustained by faith in Christ. 
 His devotedness to Christ was an every-day 
 devotedness. Of course the faith by which it 
 was sustained was an every-day faith. 
 
DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 45 
 
 There is much Christian faith, — true, sav- 
 ing faith, — which is not in motion. In other 
 words, there are many (and to their shame be 
 it said) who have been taught of the Spirit to 
 exercise faith in Christ, who have within them 
 the elements of faith, yet are not believing;. 
 They know how to confide in Christ as their 
 strength. They know how to confide in his 
 blood of atonement. They know how to con- 
 fide in him as their bosom friend. And they 
 do so confide in him sometimes; and some- 
 times they do not. When they do not, they 
 are believers, it is true; but they are not he- 
 lieving believers. Faith exists, and it is a 
 faith which will work; which must work; 
 which will work by love ; which will purify 
 the heart; which will overcome the world. 
 But to-day it is slumbering. The man goes 
 forth to his business ; he comes across tempta- 
 tions ; he feels the irruptions of indwelling sin ; 
 he bows beneath the burdens of care and vex- 
 ation of spirit, of petty and of solemn afflic- 
 tions ; he quivers under the fiery darts of the 
 adversary ; he groans under a sense of weari- 
 ness, and desertion, and spiritual restlessness, 
 and gloom ; — but he does not rest upon Christ. 
 He does not exercise his faith. To-day, he 
 does not gather up his troubles, — his fears, — 
 
46 DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 
 
 his questions of duty, — his dangers, — hig 
 sins, — his corruptions, — and spread them all 
 out before Christ. 
 
 But a lively faith is something more. It is 
 faith — in action. It is the heart actually go- 
 ing out towards Christ. It is the eye actually 
 j)erceiving his excellence, his love, his sufficien- 
 cy, his grace, his glory. It is the soul actu- 
 ally awake to its immense necessities as a sin- 
 ner, to its every-day necessities ; awake to the 
 precious truth that Christ is fitted to those 
 necessities, in aU their number, length, and 
 breadth. " He is worthy to be loved. He is 
 worthy to be trusted with any thing, — with 
 every thing. I see his love, his power, his 
 grace, his glory. There they shine, in the 
 firmament. There they shine, in providence. 
 Here they shine in my own existence ; in my 
 endowments; in my history. And there, — 
 there, — I see them, in subduing and unri- 
 valled brightness, in his suffering of death. I 
 will seat myself beneath his cross, and look, and 
 love, and trust, and praise. The Son of God 
 loved me. He gave himself for me. He cares 
 for me. Trust him I ought, — I must, — I will, 
 — I do." Such is the language of a lively faith. 
 
 But it does not stop here. It does not stop 
 with mere perceptions. A faith which sits 
 
DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 47 
 
 down to read the love upon the cross, and 
 looks np to praise it, corresponds with him who 
 bled thereon. Its perceptions impel it. They 
 impel it \o fellowship. A lively discerning of 
 Christ leads the beholder to a lively confiding 
 in Christ. And thus when the eye and the 
 heart are open to what Christ is, and to the 
 soul's dependence upon Christ as he is, the be- 
 liever believes. He points to his sins, and trusts 
 Christ for their pardon. He speaks to Christ 
 of his corruptions, and trusts him for the aid 
 necessary to their subjection. He tells Christ 
 of his own weakness, and trusts him for 
 strength. He lays open the imperfection of 
 his services, and yet trusts him for acceptance. 
 He counts over his exposures to sin from the 
 influences of a seductive world, and trusts in 
 Christ for protection. He numbers and de- 
 scribes the troubles and conflicts of his soul, 
 and trusts Christ for support and sympathy. 
 Every matter which is dear to him, every mat- 
 ter of solicitude, he commends to Christ, and 
 leaves with him. Under a daily perception of 
 his Redeemer's love, he unbosoms himself to 
 him fully. He who sees what Christ is, what 
 he has done, what he can do, what he is will- 
 ing to do for eveiy individual sinner, has some- 
 thing to say to him. He has his tribute of 
 
48 DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 
 
 praise and thanksgiving to render. He has his 
 tale of wants, and fears, and hopes, and sins, 
 to tell over. 
 
 Tliis is a lively faith ; a faith which is per- 
 ceiving something; a faith which is per^.eiving 
 "the truth as it is in Jesus" ; a faith which is 
 doing something ; a faith which is commend- 
 ing the soul's necessities, without reserve and 
 without misgivings, to Him who cares for it. 
 
 But it does not stop here. It is a lively 
 faith. It is an untiring faith. It is an every- 
 day faith. Every day it studies Christ. Every 
 day it ponders his excellence. Every day it 
 sits beneath the cross. Every day it is aivake; 
 awake to the fulness and preciousness of the 
 Son of God. Yes ; and every day it leads the 
 believer to the mercy-seat ; to the place of com- 
 munion and fellowship with his Redeemer. It 
 never thinks of doing enough in the way of 
 intercourse with Christ to-day to suffice for the 
 wants and emergencies of the soul to-morrow. 
 It never thinks of communing so much with 
 him to-day, that it will not need to return to- 
 morrow. To-day, it spreads out the wants 
 and burdens of to-day ; to-morrow, the wants 
 and burdens of to-morrow. It is as much alive 
 to the soul's necessities and dependence, as to 
 the sufficiency and love of Christ. And while 
 
DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 4^ 
 
 it cannot suffer the believer to think that to- 
 day's communion with Christ will answer thf 
 pm'poses of to-mon-o\v, so it does not suffer hinv 
 to think that he can live to-day on the strength 
 of communion yesterday, or on the intention of 
 communion for to-mon-ow. A lively faith in 
 Christ reveals our dependence as an every-day 
 dependence. It shows us that our circumstan- 
 ces are shifting daily ; that our n'ecessities are 
 changing daily ; and that, of course, we have 
 something to commit to Christ daily. It shows 
 us that we cannot steadily progress in the 
 Christian life without every-day ministrations 
 of grace ; that we cannot get our every-day 
 ministrations except by every-day fellowship. 
 And thus, while it keeps us awake to Christ's 
 fulness, awake to our wants, and awake to our 
 dependence, it impels us daily to a throne of 
 grace to rehearse our troubles, our wants, our 
 dang 'rs, in the ear of Him who can help us. 
 
 A Ively faith is a faith moving within us, 
 and /noving ^^s daily. This is its peculiarity; 
 it n' >ves, it is awake, it does not rest, it docs 
 not dumber. It shows us Christ's excellence 
 eve f day ; it draws us into his presence every 
 day It impels us every day, not only to con- 
 fi? ^ in him, but to confide to him and to confide 
 f ?r// thing' to him. 
 
50 DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 
 
 But a lively faith in Christ produces fruits 
 It produces the same fruits in all cases. It 
 produces the same sort of results in the life of 
 the believer now that it produced in the life of 
 the Apostle Paul. 
 
 It sustains the believer in his devotedness to 
 Christ. Paul expressly declares that it was so 
 with him. His was a life of uniform devoted- 
 ness to the Lord. All that he did, he did for 
 Christ. All that he suffered, he suffered for 
 Christ. Whether he ate or drank, whether he 
 preached the Gospel or wrought as a tent- 
 maker, he did all for Christ. And what 
 prompted him to this devotedness ? "What 
 sustained him in this, through perils and re- 
 proaches and temptations and sufferings ? 
 Why, it was his faith; his faith in exercise ; 
 his daily confiding in Christ and to Christ. It 
 was his strong conviction of Christ's love for 
 him; his daily confidence in Christ's strength ; 
 his daily confiding of his wants, his perils, his 
 all, to Christ. 
 
 And so it is with every Christian disciple. 
 An acting, lively faith will produce the same 
 results in him. He will do all for Christ. He 
 will labor, and suffer, and teach, and eat, and 
 drink, and go about his daily business, be it in 
 a sail-loft, or in a counting-room, for Christ. 
 
DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 51 
 
 How can it be otherwise ? When a poor, 
 guilty, rescued sinner opens his eyes upon the 
 sufferings of the cross, can he help leaping on- 
 ward in the service of Him who suffered there? 
 When he looks back to the pit whence he has 
 been digged ; when he remembers the worm- 
 wood and the gall of his spiritual bondage ; 
 when he looks upon the cross and can say, as 
 Paul did, and with full perception of the truth, 
 " The Son of God loved me and gave himself 
 for vie" — can he refrain from doing what he 
 can for that Son of God? When he is believ- 
 ing' that he is " bought with a price," with that 
 price, can he feel that he is his own ? When 
 he is believing that he is brought from death to 
 life, from darkness to light, from hopelessness 
 to hope, from the gate of hell to the gate of 
 heaven, — and this, too, by grace, by that grace, 
 by the grace of the cross, — can he leap amid 
 the eddies of worldly business and forget it? 
 Can he sit down amid the vintage and the olive 
 plants of his own household, and forget who has 
 bought and who bestowed them ? Can he he/p 
 conducting his worldly business as Christ 
 would have him ? Can he help attempering his 
 social enjoyments as Christ would have him ? 
 Can he he/p doing all things for Christ ? What ! 
 a man go away in the morning from the sanc« 
 
52 DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 
 
 tuary of his closet; from a season of close com 
 munion with Christ; from a distinct and re- 
 freshing perception of redeeming love ; from 
 the business of committing his way for the 
 day to ^he supervision and care and sustaining 
 grace of his spiritual Shepherd, — go away from 
 all this, and then live that day for himself^ not 
 for Christ! What! go from the fountain-head 
 of living water thirsting for the muddy, brack- 
 ish pools of the world I What! go away from 
 the precious whisperings of a Saviour's love to 
 be charmed by the glittering and chinking of 
 silver and gold ! No. That lively perception 
 of Christ, — that lively committal of one's ways 
 to him, — that lively reposing of one's self upon 
 the care, the grace, the strength, the protection, 
 the salvation, the covenant oath of Christ, — is 
 not something which passes off with the shad- 
 ows and dews of the morning. It controls the 
 believer's conduct, it sanctifies his motives, 
 through the day. It makes him live for Christ. 
 in his getting of gain he remembers Christ. 
 That faith impels him to the simple, but happy 
 devotion of time, strength, property, children, 
 body, soul, all, to the wishes and service of 
 Christ. It must be so. The case needs only 
 to be stated, — the natural force of the most 
 sacred, the most impulsive, of all influences 
 
DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 53 
 
 to which the soul can be subjected needs only 
 to be apprehended, — and we see that it must 
 be so. 
 
 But on this point — the productiveness of 
 lively Christian faith — another thought. 
 
 Under all the casualties of life, under all the 
 lying and affrighting suggestions of, Satan, " 
 under the consciousness of ill-desert and in- 
 dwelling sin to which the believer in Christ is 
 subjected, this faith will make him happy — in 
 Christ. The faith of Paul was lively when he 
 was beaten ; when he was hunted from city to 
 city ; when he was shipwrecked ; when he 
 was condemned to crucifixion. And under 
 all, he was happy in Christ. Satan buffeted 
 him ; but still he was happy in Christ. He 
 knew that he deserved " everlasting destruc- 
 tion from the presence of the Lord " ; he knew 
 that there was " sin dwelling in him " ; but 
 still he was happy in Christ. It was his 
 \i\e\j faith in Christ which made him so. 
 
 The same faith does the same thing for 
 every believer. A wordly affliction comes. 
 This faith keeps the eye open, still, to the per- 
 ception of Christ. And while the believer is 
 surveying his fulness of love, of tenderness, of 
 grace, to this fountain-head he comes. He 
 
54 DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 
 
 comes instinctively. He comes, with his gush- 
 ing heart, for support and sympathy. He has 
 lost a r6'or/<://// comfort ; the wsiuner^ therefore^ 
 is his appeal to Christ for heavenly comfort. 
 He draws nearer to him, for now he has more 
 to deposit with him. He has more to disclose, 
 m.ore to ask ; and so his hour of fellowship is 
 more full of trust, of earnestness, of gladness. 
 He is shut out from the sunshine of worldly 
 solace and prosperity. Yet is his eye open to 
 the precious love and sympathy of Christ; and 
 to Christ he flees, like a weary bird to its nest; 
 like the way-worn traveller to his couch ; like 
 the shipwrecked mariner to the bosom of 
 friends and the comforts of his fireside; the 
 more happy in his place of refuge because of 
 the darkness and terrors and sharpness of his 
 adversity. He sees and feels that all around 
 him " is vanity and vexation of spirit." Yes ; 
 and this too he sees, — like a light shining in 
 darkness, — like the gushing of a fountain in 
 the desert, — that Christ is full of riches, full 
 of grace, full of love ; that Christ is a treasure 
 for hwi, a treasure " the same yesterday, to-day, 
 and for ever." And thus troubles, afflictions, 
 bereavements, are tributary to his purest hap- 
 piness through the ti'ansmuting influence o{' 
 lively faith. 
 
Daily faith in christ. 55 
 
 In like manner, when Satan mutters about 
 the deceitfulness of the heart, about the multi- 
 tude of sins, about the conditions of grace, 
 about the few that are saved, a lively faith 
 says, " What if I may not trust my heart ? I 
 will trust Chri-st. What if my sins are many 
 What if there are conditions of grace ? Wha 
 if there are few that are saved ? I will trust my 
 self with Christ. He has love, and power, and 
 grace, and of each an overflowing fulness. In 
 him I may and will confide. And thus, while 
 the believer is trusting' in Christ, while his 
 faith is lively^ he baffles the adversary and is 
 kept in peace. " Thou wilt keep him in per- 
 fect peace whose mind is stayed on thee." 
 
 And so, too, when he looks in upon the 
 startling corruptions of his heart, a lively faith 
 still displays the tenderness and sufficiency of 
 Christ ; so that in him he is the more glad, 
 and for him the more grateful, because of the 
 very extent of his sins and the very hatefulness 
 of his corruptions. 
 
 If faith in Christ is lively^ nothing can ex- 
 clude buoyancy of heart. The perceiving of 
 Christ, — the confiding in Christ, — the con 
 fidiiig of troubles, of sins, of life, of death, of 
 soul, of all, to Christ, — overpower afflictions, 
 terpptations, the fear of the law, and the fear 
 of«m. 
 
56 
 
 DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 
 
 But yet more ; this lively faith in Christ will 
 make the believer a consistent Christian. 
 
 It appeals to Christ for strength. It appeals 
 to him for protection from the evil of the 
 world. It appeals to him for grace to sm*- 
 mount and subdue indwelling- sin. It casta 
 tlie soul entirely and boldly upon Christ for 
 protection through the surrounding perils of 
 the hour. It is not the way of our precious 
 Saviour to withhold his help from those who 
 are trusting him thus. He never did it. He 
 never will do it. He never can do it. That 
 appeal of a lively faith must be suspended, 
 that cry must cease, that imploring look must 
 pass away, or the grace must be given. There 
 is too much love in Christ, too much tender- 
 ness, too clear a remembrance of his oiun temp- 
 tations, too much fidelity to his own covenant 
 oath, for him to withhold this grace when it is 
 thus sought. Lively faith secures it. It is 
 granted " according to the proportion of faith." 
 It comes down from above as steadily, as 
 largely, as faith goes up to ask it. He whose 
 faith in Christ is in exercise never trips, nevei 
 staggers, never falters in his course. The 
 charmer may charm ever so wisely ; the grace 
 of Christ is his and is sufficient. Snares may 
 be spread ever so abundantly and ever so skil- 
 
DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 57 
 
 fully, — the grace of Christ guides him. The 
 world may smile, or scoff, or promise, or cajole, 
 but the grace of Christ keeps him ; the arm of 
 Christ is under him ; the Spirit of Christ is 
 with him ; the power of Christ is imparted to 
 him. He may be in the thickest perils, but he 
 is upheld. And for aught the world can do, 
 his visible life, while his faith is lively^ will be 
 upright and spotless. None can say of him 
 that he breaks his oath ; none, that he is false 
 to his Lord. 
 
 Besides, a lively faith is a lively perception 
 of Christ's exceeding loveliness. In the eye of 
 faith the glory of Christ is pictured in brighter 
 colors than the fading and fitful beauties of 
 the world. Christ is imaged upon the heart 
 by an acting faith so as to eclipse them. The 
 friendship of the world is contemptible in con- 
 trast with that of Christ. The loving-kindness 
 of life's best relation — a mothet'^s loving-kind- 
 ness — is tame, is tasteless, is low, is cold, is 
 powerless, in contrast with that of Redeeming 
 Grace. The pleasures of fleshly indulgence 
 are stale, their enticing power is crippled, to 
 him whose lively faith has just led him to 
 communion with Christ, and has just prompt- 
 ed him to thanksgiving for Redeeming Love. 
 With a lively faith, — a faith faithfully por- 
 
58 DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 
 
 traying Christ's glory, and warming us with 
 gratitude for Redemption, — wherever duty 
 calls we can go unharmed; be it amid ever so 
 many enticements ; be it upon a sea of care 
 and business ever so wide or tumultuous. 
 
 A lively faith is a security against tempta- 
 tion ; it is a guaranty of a consistent, beauti- 
 ful, uniform Christian life ; because it appro- 
 priates the sufficiency, the nourishment, the 
 impelling and controlling influence of Redeem- 
 ing Love. 
 
 But methinks some one will say, " This is 
 fancy ; this is the poetry of piety. The pic- 
 ture does not tally with facts. It does not an- 
 swer to piety in real life. It might have been 
 so with Paul. His ivas a life devoted to 
 Christ. He was happy in Christ. He vjas 
 consistent as a Christian. The life which he 
 led ivas by the faith of the Son of God. But 
 where do we see such faith producing such 
 fruits now? Are Christians here, upon oui 
 right hand and upon our left, steadfast in their 
 devotion to Christ ? Are they happy in Christ ? 
 Are their lives beauteous with consistency? 
 Where is their- Christian zeal? Where their 
 Christian conversation ? Where their eager- 
 ness for Christian worship ? Where their dili- 
 gent use of the means of grace ? Where their 
 
DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 59 
 
 spirituality of life? We see them abound in 
 indolence, in stupidity, in worldly-mindedness, 
 in worldly business, in heaviness of heart ; but 
 where can we find these wondrous influences 
 which you ascribe to Christian faith ?" 
 
 And you yourself, my Christian brother, are 
 ready to echo the words and say, — " Where 
 are these wondrous influences ? where is my 
 devotedness ? where my joy in Christ? where 
 my consistency of life ? " 
 
 There they are, — there they are, where 
 your Christian faith is ; laid aside, — out of 
 sight, — asleep, — to all intents and purposes, 
 gone. Suppose that you are truly a disciple 
 of Christ, — your faith has gone to rest. You 
 have checked its lively outgoings. Yesterday, 
 — last year, — you believed in Christ. And 
 when you put forth your faith, — when you 
 drank in the goodness of Christ, — then you 
 lived for him ; then you was happy in him ; 
 then your light shone ; and you labored and 
 spake and behaved like one who belonged to 
 Christ. But now your faith has pausecj. It 
 does not move. And therefore you have ceased 
 to produce these precious fruits of faith. Re- 
 member, — I have not said that every believer 
 is devoted and happy and consistent. I have 
 spoken only of the believing' believer ; of a 
 
60 DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 
 
 lively faith ; of a faith which is moving — every 
 day. Your slumbering faith, for present pur- 
 poses, is trash. To-day it is of no avail. And 
 — what is w^orse — it is not invigorated, re- 
 fresh ed, by its slumbering. Wake it up. Wake 
 it up. Fill your thoughts and your heart with 
 Christ. Come back to your habits of warm- 
 hearted fellowship. Come and seat yourself, 
 day by day^ beneath the droppings of his blood. 
 Come and study, day by day, the wonder, the 
 price, the grace of your redemption. Come, open 
 the eye, open the ear, open the heart, to Christ ; 
 and see if you do not recover your devoted- 
 ness,# your gladness, your consistency, your 
 Christian influence. See if you do not regain 
 your power with God and prevail. See if you 
 do not become a daily blessing to those who 
 are bone of your bone and flesh of your flesh, 
 and who are ready to perish in sin. Come, 
 and see if you cannot shame the cavils of those 
 who question the power and the blessedness 
 of Christian faith. 
 
 Your heaviness of heart, your spiritual apa- 
 thy, your deficiencies of life, your fluctuations, 
 are not because you have a lively faith in 
 Christ, but because you have not. They are 
 because you have suspended the heavenly em- 
 ployment of beholding Him who is your Life, 
 
DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 61 
 
 and of trusting him, — day by day. Was 
 you ever gloomy when your faith was lively ? 
 Never. It was when you had lost your per- 
 ception of Christ. It was when you had lost 
 your access to Christ. It was when the heav- 
 ens were as brass over you because of your — 
 xmbelief.* It was when you did not go and 
 spread out your sorrows to Christ with all the 
 fulness and freeness of whole-hearted trust. 
 Was you ever weary of doing all things for 
 Christ, of laboring devotedly for his kingdom 
 and glory, when you was full of a confiding 
 perception of his dying love ? Never. It was 
 when you had shut your eye, or turned it 
 away from the cross, and filled it with some 
 other thing. It was not when you was be- 
 lieving. Was you ever entrapped by a world- 
 ly seduction when the excellence of Christ was 
 full in view ? when your heart was on fire with 
 your musings about his loveliness and tender- 
 ness and truth ? Never. It was when, for a 
 day or an hour, you forgot him. It was when 
 you failed to drink deep at the fountain of liv- 
 ing waters. It was on some day when you 
 gave your faith a respite. 
 
 And how is it with you now, my brother 
 
 * The unbelief of a believer ! " Lord, I believe ; help thou 
 mine unbelief." Mark ix. 24. 
 
62 DAILY FAITH IN CHRIST. 
 
 beloved ? Heavy-hearted, — gloomj^, — sleepy 
 — inconsistent, — to-day ? And where is your 
 faith ? Out of sight. Out of service. Inac- 
 tive. And therefore you go along slumbering 
 and sorrowing and staggering in your course. 
 A life of beautiful, happy, consistent devoted- 
 ness to Christ is " by the faith of the Son of 
 God." It is by a faith which will show you, 
 and make you feel in your Very soul, that he 
 loved you^ and gave himself for you. Look at 
 this. Look at this. Let your heart move, and 
 leap, and melt away in gratitude and peni- 
 tence. Let your faith act, — daily, — and I 
 will venture you in a tornado of afflictions and 
 temptations. Forget this, — fail to get a lively, 
 subduing perception of Christ's lowe for you, — 
 a single day, — I say, a single day, — and a 
 breath of wind, which would not move an as- 
 pen-leaf, will prostrate you in shame and sor- 
 row and sin. If there come the least trial of 
 your earthly affections, the least form of temp- 
 tation, you are gone ; you are overcome ; you 
 are fallen. 
 
IV. 
 
 THE CONDITIONS OF SALVATIOK. 
 
 Unless the Bible is an impertinent directory 
 in spiritual affairs, it is evident that God has 
 annexed certain conditions to his offers of sal- 
 vation by Christ. Although they are couched 
 in various forms of language, they may be 
 summarily expressed in two words, — "Re- 
 pentance " and " Faith." 
 
 Yet God has declared as plainly as words 
 can declare it, — he has proved as clearly as 
 deeds can prove it, — that he has no pleasure 
 in the death of the sinner. He has obviated 
 the great difficulty of remitting the penalty of 
 sin and yet maintaining the honor of his Law, 
 by sending his Son to make atonement for 
 us, so that he can justify the sinner and yet be 
 just. These things being so, it seems at first 
 view strange that God should dictate terms to 
 those whom he loves ; to those for whose sins 
 innocent blood has been shed. It seems a 
 strange thing for a Father, infinite in grace 
 and tenderness, to take advantage of his erring 
 child's dependence and necessity, and bargain 
 
64 CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 
 
 with him for pardon and loving-kindness. It 
 seems a strange, posture for a yearning father 
 to assume, — to sit down over against a child 
 clad in rags and perishing for bread, and make 
 a contract with him for food and raiment and 
 home ; strange — for such an one to say, " If 
 you will do so and so, I will help you ; but if 
 you refuse, I will not help you." And such a 
 course seems passing strange on the part of 
 our Heavenly Father, when he might bless 
 (because of the sacrifice of Christ) without 
 losing one particle of his honor ; without abat- 
 ing one principle of his holy government ; 
 without repealing one tittle of his Law. 
 
 Yet this is the fact, — God does propound 
 /conditions of salvation. Strange, or not strange, 
 — consistent, or not consistent, — God does 
 say, that if we accede to these conditions we 
 shall have eternal life ; that if we do not, we 
 shall go into everlasting punishment. Let us 
 examine this fact, — Jesus Christ has made an 
 ample atonement for sins, and still God offers 
 salvation upon conditions. 
 
 The popular notion of salvation is sufficient- 
 ly correct. Being sinners, we are exposed to 
 punishment, i. e. suffering. If, either because 
 it would be unjust, or because the tender 
 
CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 65 
 
 love of God must compel him to preclude suf- 
 fering, or for any cause whatever, we are not 
 exposed to punishment, then the notion of sal- 
 vation is absurd. It is a wild conceit. There 
 is no such thing as salvation. But again ; be- 
 ing sinners, we are exposed to punishment or 
 suffering hereafter. We are not saved from 
 punishment, i. e. we are not exempt from suf- 
 fering, — here; and if there is no danger of 
 our suffering there, ih^n there is no salvation 
 at all. 
 
 If, then, we steer clear of downright absurd- 
 ity while we talk about salvation, we under- 
 stand that we are justly exposed to suffering 
 beyond this present life. We do so, because 
 we understand that the salvation which God 
 .offers us in the Gospel is deliverance from evil 
 hereafter. 
 
 The common, and the common-sense idea 
 of salvation, embraces so much as this at least, 
 — a freedom from all suffering after we leave 
 this world ; from suffering to which, under the 
 constituted order of things, we are verily liable 
 as sinners. In other words, salvation is eter- 
 nal happiness in the stead 0/ eternal misery. 
 
 Now the conditions of this salvation are — 
 Repentance and Faith. What connection is 
 
66 CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 
 
 there between salvation and the performance 
 of these conditions ? To state the question in 
 diflerent terms, — What influence, if any, have 
 Repentance and Faith upon our happiness 
 hereafter ? 
 
 Watch the influence of any feeling, or of 
 any act which God has forbidden, upon our 
 happiness even in the present life. What is 
 it? Good, or ill? Call to mind your own 
 experience. When you have been angry, 
 when you have been peevish, when you have 
 been envious, have you been happy? If you 
 have ever allowed yourself in any form of vice, 
 have you had a quiet mind? When you have 
 centred all your expectations upon some 
 worldly good ; when you have wedded all 
 your affections to some earthly object; have 
 those things so filled your mind, — have they 
 so met, and responded to, your heart's desire, 
 — that you could honestly say, — "I have 
 enough " ? Have they so tallied with the ne- 
 cessities of your soul as to quell its cravings 
 and hush its fears? When you have "loved 
 the creature more than the Creator"; when 
 you have devoted your thoughts, and your 
 strength, and your time, and your all, to some- 
 thing here on earth, rather than to God ; have 
 you been so void of fear, so free from inward 
 
CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 67 
 
 disquietude, so exempt from the rebukes of 
 conscience, that you were a happy man ? Did 
 " not a wave of trouble roll across your peace- 
 ful breast"? Was there no restless craving 
 for something more and for something better? 
 no bitter thought that you and your idols must 
 part ? no disturbing consciousness that you 
 was doing wrong — to God ? 
 
 Your experience, — my experience, — the ex- 
 perience of the world, — go to show, that the 
 allowance of any wrong passion, of any " in- 
 ordinate affection," is in itself evil. Of itself, 
 it brings anhappiness. Here are wants within 
 us which are in no wise met by the things 
 " which perish with the using." Here are sus- 
 ceptibilities within us which are in no wise at 
 ease, while we are tossed with passions, and 
 stimulated by " inordinate affections." Here 
 is a conscience within us which is by no 
 means clean, while we thus depart from the 
 law of God. But this is impenitence ; per- 
 sisting in disobedience of God. 
 
 Again. Here is a man whose heart rises up 
 against some mishap in his worldly affairs. 
 God has sent it upon him, and he knows it. 
 But he is unreconciled to the dispensation. 
 His mind does not coincide with God's mind. 
 Is he happy ? He goes to the Bible. He is 
 
68 CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 
 
 told there that " God will work and none can 
 hinder it"; that God controls all things, all 
 men, all hearts, as he pleases ; that he " will 
 have mercy on whom he will have mercy, and 
 whom he will he hardeneth." This testimony 
 « of the Bible touching God's sovereignty grates 
 upon his ear like a note of discord. It wakens 
 no response of childlike confidence from his 
 heart. God's sovereignty rises up before him, 
 and his will rises up against it. Is he happy? 
 The Law of God is spread before him, with 
 its demand of perfect, eternal obedience ; 
 with its commands respecting his most secret 
 thought and wish ; with its fearful penalty of 
 death to the soul that sinneth. There it 
 stands. It speaks. It threatens. It presses 
 upon Ids life ; upon Ids speech ; upon his 
 thoughts ; upon his accountability ; ugon his 
 destiny. He clashes with it. His heart rises 
 up against the commandment, — against the 
 penalty. Is he happy ? 
 
 There is GocTs law; there is God's sover- 
 eignty ; there is God's providence ; and they 
 do not meet his views, — they do not chord 
 with his heart, — they do not agree with his 
 will. He cannot trust God for a Law ; he 
 cannot trust God with the absolute disposal of 
 the universe ; he cannot trust God for the daily 
 
CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 69 
 
 dispensation of providence. Hence the dis- 
 agreement between him and what God or- 
 dains. Hence, and hence only, his unhappi- 
 ness. But all this is — unbelief. 
 
 On the other hand, we find Repentance 
 and Faith in God closely associated with hap- 
 piness. In their best estate on earth, they are 
 imperfect. But so far as they exist, they yield 
 the fruits of blessedness. 
 
 If we restrain our passions, if we temper 
 our earthly affections, if we regulate our words 
 and our daily conduct according to the rules 
 which God gives us, we contribute so much to 
 our own enjoyment. So far as we feel right 
 and act right, so far we are happy. So far we 
 have peace. So far we have the approval of 
 our consciences. And this is — Repentance. 
 
 Again, what is more obviously productive 
 of peace and joy than confidence in God ? 
 When a man can look upon all the mysteries 
 of providence, and upon all his personal afflic- 
 tions, with a full, a lively, a steadfast, convic- 
 tion that He who has dispensed them has 
 done right ; when he can say, with the spirit 
 of a child, " Even so, Father " ; when he can 
 thus throw himself with a placid temper upon 
 the current of God's dispensations ; under the 
 blackest clouds, under the rudest tempest, 
 
70 CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 
 
 adrift upon the wildest billows, he is happy. 
 And this is — Faith. 
 
 When he can look upon the dazzling doc- 
 trine of God's absolute, universal supremacy 
 with a steady eye ; when he can tul*n to this 
 truth with an unwavering assurance, that ev- 
 ery decree and every decision, that every ap- 
 portionment, both of Grace and Justice, will be 
 fight ; when, thus trusting in God, he can ac- 
 quiesce in every particular of his government; 
 under every mystery, he is happy. All things 
 — all things — are done according to his will ; 
 for God's will is his, — his will is God's. And 
 this is — Faith. 
 
 And when a poor sinner, in full view of the 
 terrors and strictness of the Law ; in full view 
 of his own sins and ill-desert ; in full view of 
 his own helplessness; can trust in the prom- 
 ises of God through Christ ; when he can feel 
 that in the blood of the Lamb there is a sacri- 
 fice for his sins ; when he can thus leave him- 
 self quietly with God, and wait and look for 
 salvation ; surely this is happiness. Yet this, 
 too, is — Faith. 
 
 When a child of sorrows, overwhelmed with 
 hardships and stripped of earthly comforts, can 
 go to Him who has smitten him and kiss the 
 rod ; when he can say, " Though thou slay 
 
CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 71 
 
 me, yet will I trust in thee " ; when he can 
 find his way to the place of secret communion 
 to recite his griefs and to ask for sympathy ; 
 when he can go to the throne of grace for con- 
 solation ; though his troubles have been like a 
 flood, and the cup of his adversity like worm- 
 wood, yet there, in that man's breast, — in that 
 torn and bleeding heart, — peace gushes up like 
 a fountain and the happiness of heaven like a 
 reviving stream. But this is another form of — 
 Faith. 
 
 Thus we find, upon the most superficial re- 
 flection, that impenitence and unbelief are the 
 very fountains of spiritual wretchedness. We 
 find also that repentance and faith are the well- 
 springs of spiritual happiness. Now transfer 
 the operation of these different tempers to the 
 coming state of existence. In this life, the 
 passions are in their infancy ; in the next, in 
 their maturity. Here, our inordinate affec- 
 tions are checked ; there, let loose. Here, our 
 thoughts are diverted, in a thousand ways, 
 from the truths and the government and the 
 Law of God, — by cares, by business, by social 
 pleasures, by the passing events of a bustling 
 world; there, these things will have no place. 
 Here we get but a glimpse, as it were, of God's 
 Majesty, of his Sovereignty, of his Law, of his 
 
72 CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 
 
 system of Grace, — " we see through a glass 
 darkly," — but there it will be eye to eye, 
 " face to face." Is it possible for you to be 
 happy — there — if you are still in sin ? Is it 
 possible, — when the revelations of eternity 
 will make your soul as truly naked to your 
 own view as it is " to the eyes of Him with 
 w^hom you have to do " ? Is it possible, — 
 when your " refuges of lies " will all be gone ? 
 Is it possible, — when your covering of self- 
 righteousness will be stripped off? Is it pos- 
 sible, — when your paltry sophistries about 
 your own uncleanness will have vanished like 
 the dew — for ever? 
 
 If you are unhappy in one degree when the 
 wrong feelings of your heart move within you 
 here, under all the restraints of grace, under all 
 the diversions of a busy life, you may be sure 
 that, when these restraints and diversions are 
 gone, and those wrong feelings leap up within 
 you like a giant loosed from his bands, your 
 cup of misery will be full. It must be. 
 
 If you are unhappy now^ when you get only 
 a twilight view of the Law, and the Govern- 
 ment, and the Sovereignty of God, what will 
 be the measure of youfunhappiness then^ when 
 (the same unbelief in your heart) that Law, 
 and Government, and Sovereignty rise up be- 
 
CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 73 
 
 fore you — ever before you — clear, and bright, 
 and terrible as God can show them ? What 
 viust it be ? 
 
 If the whispered rebukes of a conscience 
 wellnigh stifled, — if the transient twinges of a 
 conscience wellnigh seared by abuse, — harrow 
 up your soul here, what will be its damning 
 power when it shall recover its might, and its 
 right, and take its vengeance — there ? 
 
 But — should you stand before God a peni- 
 tent — every thought, every wish, every em- 
 ployment, in perfect unison with his will ; en- 
 mity changed for love ; rebellion, for submis- 
 sion, — should you stand there staying your- 
 self upon him in the spirit of a pure and per- 
 fect faith, — then, under the cloudless light of 
 his Law, his Sovereignty, his Gospel, you 
 would find Life such as angels have, and 
 blessedness such as God's* Faith and holi- 
 ness would bind you to God for ever. They 
 would make your will commingle with God's 
 will, as kindred elements commingle. They 
 would open to you the fountains of God. 
 They would yield to you the fall fellowship of 
 God. And the clearer and the brighter the 
 purposes, the deeds, the justice, tlie sovereign- 
 ty of God should beam before you, — the high- 
 er would be the influx of your enjoyments, — 
 
74 CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 
 
 the louder the outgoings of your praise. And 
 thus, while the successive disclosures of eter- 
 nity would wake you to fresh emotions of 
 faith and obedience, gladness would succeed 
 to gladness, — song to song, — Life to Life, — 
 for ever and for ever. 
 
 But, if these things are true, then God is not 
 presenting himself before you, and styling him- 
 self your Father, yet playing with the miseries 
 of your sinful state by presenting to you arbi- 
 trary conditions of salvation. He is not bar- 
 gaining with you for the blessings of his grace. 
 He is not asking of you something without 
 which he might give you salvation. It is not 
 true, that he might save you in impenitence 
 and unbelief, but will not. It is not true, 
 that he might make you happy while you are 
 what you are, yet does not choose to do it. 
 Your sin and your unbelief are to the soul 
 what fire and famine are to the body. They 
 are to your soul what rottenness is to the 
 bones. They are to your soul what pestilence 
 is to health. It is not true that Repentance 
 and Faith are necessary to salvation just be- 
 cause God commands them. God commands 
 them because they are necessary. Salvation 
 is not hampered by superfluous articles of 
 
CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 75 
 
 compromise. It is as free as air. " The 
 promise is unto you and to your children." 
 " Ho I every one that thirsteth." " Whosoever 
 will, let him come." " Come unto me, all ye 
 that labor and are heavy-laden." Such are the 
 overtures of grace. Such are the messages of 
 Divine Love. 
 
 True, atonement has been made by Christ; 
 an atonement without which there could have 
 been no salvation ; an atonement on the basis 
 of which free grace is proclaimed. But that 
 atonement was not more essential to salvation 
 than repentance and faith are. And though it 
 be, that all power is in God ; though it be, 
 that he " delighteth not in the death of the 
 sinner" ; though it be, that he crieth after you, 
 " How can I give thee up ? " — yet it is also 
 true, and as plainly true, that salvation cannot 
 be effected save in the very way which God 
 has prescribed. Power cannot accomplish it. 
 Blood cannot. Grace cannot. 
 
 God has done his part. God has done what 
 you could never do. God has provided an 
 atonement. And now he calls upon you, and 
 all, to do your part. He calls upon you to do 
 what he cannot do for you, — to repent, — to 
 believe. He calls for this simply because this 
 is Life ; this is happiness ; simply because the 
 
 6 
 
76 CONDITIONS OF SALVATION. 
 
 refusal thereof is itself death and woe. His 
 conditions of salvation, therefore, are — simply 
 those affections of heart which constitute salva- 
 tion. He offers you happiness on this only 
 condition, — that you will be happy. 
 
V. 
 
 PEACE OF MIND. 
 
 All men seek after happiness. It is natu- 
 ral. It is right. It is duty. We were made 
 to be happy. It was the design of our Crea- 
 tor;" and, to this design, he has accurately and 
 wisely fitted the various endowments of our 
 souls and the circumstances of our outward 
 condition. That which will contribute to our 
 happiness he approves. That which will pre- 
 vent it — and that only — he condemns. In 
 seeking, and in making effort, to be happy, 
 therefore, we do but coincide with God. So 
 far, we fall in with one great object for which 
 he made us. 
 
 But God, when he framed us, made us to 
 be happy in a certain way. He so framed us 
 that we can be happy only in one certain way. 
 And we differ from God, from the law of 
 God, from all the high purposes of God, the 
 moment we pursue any other way. 
 
 Most men do pursue another way. They 
 want happiness. But they seek it where it is 
 not to be found. They go up and down in 
 
'is PEACE OF MIND.. 
 
 life,, paying court and tithes and homage to 
 a thousand worldly objects; tossed by a thou- 
 sand waves ; lured to and fro by a thousand 
 phantoms; and then — go down to their graves 
 worn and wearied, disappointed and empty- 
 handed. 
 
 We are surrounded by numberless sources 
 of disquietude ; that is to say, there is, per- 
 haps, nothing which is not capable oi making 
 us unhappy. The prosperity and ill-behavior 
 of the wicked may do it. The events of prov- 
 idence may do it. Our sins, — our liability to 
 evil, temporal or eternal, — may do it. God's 
 Law, — his character, — his sovereignty, — his 
 method of grace, — may do it. All these things 
 may excite within us thoughts and feelings 
 utterly preventive of enjoyment. They may 
 awaken within us fear, or anger, or remorse, or 
 some other emotion of a like nature; and thus 
 induce inward tumult, from the lowest point 
 of restlessness to the highest pitch of distress 
 and frenzy. 
 
 On the other hand, we ma?/ look upon these 
 things without disturbance. We can suffer 
 wrong from men without passion. We can 
 meet disappointment and adversity without 
 a single inward murmur. We can part with 
 property and health; we can give up the 
 
PEACE OF MIND. 79 
 
 objects dearest to our hearts ; we can bury 
 all our earthly hopes, — without one wish to 
 question or to reverse the decisions of an ad- 
 verse providence. We can survey the plan of 
 salvation ; the pureness and the curses of the 
 Law ; the character and the sovereignty of 
 God, — without one emotion of discontent. 
 We can think of our " sins that are past," and 
 of our ill-desert; we can look upon them just 
 as they appear under the clear light of the Bi- 
 ble ; we can behold our vileness in its true de- 
 formity, our condemnation as sinners in all its 
 terrors, and death and judgment and eternity 
 with all their solemnity, — without fear and 
 without distress. And this is peace. This is 
 peace of mind. This is "the peace of God 
 which passeth all understanding." 
 
 If our minds are disturbed, what does it 
 avail us that we are surrounded by the count- 
 less tokens of our Maker's goodness ? If we 
 are uneasy ivithin^ what to us are beauty and 
 profusion luithoul ? What satisfaction do we 
 get from wealth, from honors, from power, 
 from the fountains of domestic endearment, 
 while our " souls are disquieted within us " ? 
 When we are fretful that we cannot get more ; 
 when we are tossed with apprehension lest we 
 should lose what we have ; when we are 
 
80 PEACE OF MIND. 
 
 angry at some frowning, providence ; when wc 
 feel this craving of our spirits for something 
 better than the world ; when passion heats us ; 
 when sins affright us ; when conscience re- 
 bukes us, — the very cup of our earthly pleas- 
 ures is dashed with bitterness. We get not 
 half the comfort we might get from the com- 
 mon blessings of life. 
 
 But if our minds are at peace, — then w^e 
 can behold, with open eyes and unclouded 
 vision, the beauties of God's handiwork ; we 
 can drink with lively relish at the fountains 
 of domestic endearment. We can taste the 
 sweets, we can feel the comforts, we can evjoy 
 the blessings, which God has provided for us. 
 If we are bereaved ; if we are poor ; if we are 
 sick; if we are despised, — we can find some- 
 thing to enjoy; the good things which remain 
 to us are not spoiled ; the flowers still bloom, 
 and we can love them ; the providence of God 
 is still around us, and we can rest upon it; the 
 Word of God still abideth, and we can rejoice 
 in it. 
 
 What if temporal adversity does come like 
 a flood? What if hopes are dashed, and com- 
 forts torn away by thousands ? If we can 
 say, " Amen " ; if we can say, " Even so, 
 Father ; even so " / if we can look upon the 
 
PEACE OF MIND. 81 
 
 seeming severity of our afflictions without a 
 doubt of their fitness or their rightness ; if amid 
 al] we can " sing- both of mercies and of judg- 
 ments"; we are happy — still. And what 
 though it is declared to us that God is our Sov- 
 ereign ; that every event of providence, of grace, 
 of punitive justice, is according to the eternal 
 counsel of his will? What if it does appear, 
 that God will dispose of us, and of ours, and 
 of all things, just as he pleases and only as he 
 pleases ? If we have no quarrel with his sov- 
 ereignty ; if we can look with calmness upon 
 all the particulars of his government; if we ac- 
 quiesce in his absolute supremacy ; if we can 
 keep our minds at peace ; we are happy — still. 
 And what if we do discover that we have not 
 yet attained unto perfection either of heart or 
 life ? What if we do behold that we have be- 
 come obnoxious to a law whose penalty is 
 death ; that we are speeding every hour to the 
 end of our probation and to the decisions of 
 the judgment-day? If we can see all this 
 without remorse and without terror, if in view 
 of all we can be at peace^ we are happy — still. 
 And when we come to die, — though we leave 
 behind those who cling to us for support and 
 protection and comfort, — though the question 
 is yet to be solved whether we awake to shame 
 
S2 
 
 PEACE OF MIND. 
 
 or to glory, — though the moment of our de- 
 parture is the moment when our destinies are 
 sealed for ever, — if we can commit ourselves 
 to God without distrust; if we can thus keep 
 our minds at peace : we are happy — still. 
 
 Now this is worth more to us — by far — 
 than outward prosperity. It is better than — 
 money. It is better than — adding field to 
 field. It is better than — the esteem of men. 
 It is better than — children, — than princedoms, 
 — than all the world can give. These cannot 
 serve us in the days of our adversity. Tliis — 
 can. These cannot uphold us in the times of 
 our souls' necessities. This — can. These 
 cannot stay us up, and wake our hearts to 
 melody, when we think of God ; of our sins ; 
 of our day of reckoning ; and when we come 
 to die. But this — can. 
 
 What you want is — peace of mind. You 
 need something more and something better 
 than the feverish exhilaration of mirth ; some- 
 thing more and better than the wearying ex- 
 citement of worldly enterprise ; something 
 more and better than a self-righteous compla- 
 cency; something more and better than wealth 
 and friends. These things can never make 
 you happy. Place your hopes upon them, and 
 
PEACE OF MIND. 83 
 
 you will reap a harvest of bitter disappoint- 
 ment. Search the world over, — there is noth- 
 ing in it that can slake your thirst; nothing 
 that can fill your desires ; nothing that can 
 give you rest. You want a quiet mind. That 
 guilty conscience must be purged. Those dis- 
 turbing passions must be quelled. That rest- 
 lessness must be subdued. Those "inordinate 
 affections" must be set in order. Those fears 
 about the morrow, — those flashing anxieties 
 about dying and about going into eternity, — 
 must be overcome. The moment your heart 
 rebels against the doings, or the doctrines, or 
 the government of God ; the moment con- 
 science upbraids you with unwashen sins; the 
 moment you feel that there is something un- 
 settled between yourself and God ; the mo- 
 ment there bursts up within you the conviction 
 of your soul's poverty and nakedness; — -that 
 moment you are an unhappy man. 
 
 You must have such commotions stilled. 
 You must find peace. Else you cannot find 
 happiness. 
 
 I point you, then, to God. He can give 
 you peace. He can still your fears. He can 
 take away the sting of guilt. He can keep 
 you quiet under every hardship ; in view of all 
 the terrors of a broken law; through all the 
 solemnities of a dying hour. 
 
84 PEACE OF MIND. 
 
 You need peace to give you happiness. 
 You need God to give you peace. 
 
 I pray you, then, go to God. Go, and es- 
 tablish a covenant with him. Go, and begin 
 fellowship with him. Go, and make his 
 throne of grace your daily refuge ; his mercy- 
 seat your hiding-place. When perils over- 
 hang your estate or your children ; when dis- 
 ease and death threaten to dissolve your dear- 
 est ties; when false affection blights your 
 hopes ; when the burdens of life press you ; 
 when trifles vex you, — ^o to God. When you 
 think of your sins ; when you feel the motion 
 of your indwelling corruptions ; when you 
 fluctuate between hope and fear touching the 
 question of your spiritual adoption, — go to God. 
 Go, — and tell him your troubles. Go, — cast 
 your care upon him. Go, — pour out your 
 soul. Go, — like a child to a father. Go, — 
 spread before Him your sins, — guilt, — fears, 
 — burdens, — corruptions, — all. 
 
VI. 
 
 DIVINE GRACE COMMENSURATE WITH MAN'S 
 NECESSITY. 
 
 The Grace of God is the chief doctrine of 
 the Gospel. It is the great light of the spirit- 
 ual universe. 
 
 It is not Divine Love simply ; but Divine 
 Love going out beyond the abodes of holiness 
 to find recipients for its gifts. It is Divine 
 Love coming with overtures of blessing to the 
 sinner. It is the union, or partnership of Love 
 and Justice ; in which both blend their glories 
 and unite their influence to save. 
 
 That God can forbear, that he can pardon, 
 that he can be gracious, — is our only hope. 
 It is a sufficient source of joy and peace ; and 
 of incomparable preciousness. Yet few so 
 interweave themselves with the promises of 
 grace as to attain to the stability and peace 
 which they are designed to impart. Few so 
 far divest themselves of unbelief as to appro- 
 priate that spiritual encouragement which 
 grace affords. " All the promises of God in 
 
86 DIVINE GRACE AND MAN's NEED. 
 
 Christ are yea, and in him amen"; they are 
 sure, boundless, free ; yet few partake of them 
 without trembling and feed upon them with- 
 out restraint. How seldom are doubts silenced, 
 fears quelled, unbelief shamed, and the adver- 
 sary foiled by the plea which David used, — 
 " For thy name's sake, O Lord, pardon mine 
 iniquity, /or — it is great." 
 
 " Canst thou by searching find oat God ? 
 Canst thou find out the Almighty to per- 
 fection ? " Are not the resources of Divine 
 grace equal to the extent of human sinfulness ? 
 Are not the supplies of infinite fulness equal 
 to the greatness of human necessity ? " Shall 
 not He who spared not his own Son with him 
 also freely give us all things ? " Why, then, 
 should our conception of his grace be diminu- 
 tive ? Why should we fear lest our measure 
 of it be beyond the truth ? 
 
 One principle upon which Divine grace pro- 
 ceeds is, that its own fulness, or sufficiency 
 should be the most gloriously exhibited. 
 
 The display of God's grace is not made in 
 the announcement of what he might do, or 
 of what he intends to do. The display of 
 grace is made in the deed of grace. In pro- 
 portion to the greatness of its deeds, is the 
 exhibition of its fulness. If its glory shines 
 
DIVINE GRACE AND MAn's NEED. 87 
 
 bright and clear in the pardon of one trans- 
 gression, how much more when it freely can- 
 cels sins without number and of the deepest 
 dye. If, for the purpose of explaining the 
 nature of his grace and its value, God forgives 
 one iniquity, will he not much more and for 
 the same purpose — O thou of little faith I — 
 answer a penitential prayer for the forgiveness 
 of 2i 7nuUUude oi sins 1 Will he not, — think 
 you, — when the illustration of his grace is the 
 greater and the more glorious because of the 
 very excess of sin ? Indeed, if there is sin too 
 great to be pardoned when pardon is humbly 
 and earnestly sought ; if there is a blessing so 
 great that it must be refused, though humbly 
 craved ; if a sinner suing for mercy must per- 
 ish because he is so great a sinner ; and if a 
 needy suppliant must be denied because of the 
 greatness of his prayer, — then what is meant 
 by " the exceeding- riches of God's grace '^ 
 which Paul so much extols ? If these things 
 are thus, what means Paul when he says, — 
 
 " God hath quickened us that in the 
 
 ages to come he might shew the exceeding 
 riches of his grace" ? If these things are thus, 
 is not grace so reduced in its measure, so cir- 
 cumscribed and trammelled in its operations, 
 that it is palpably inadequate to its great ob- 
 
88 DIVINE GRACE AND MAN's NEED. 
 
 ject, — the showing forth of the boundlessness 
 of God's goodness ? 
 
 'i For thy name's sake," says the Psalmist, 
 " pardon mine iniquity, for it is great." He 
 pleads the greatness of his sin as the true rea- 
 son for its forgiveness. He pleads that the 
 magnitude of sin affords the better opportunity 
 for the more glorious display of grace ; that 
 the greater the act of pardon, the more honor 
 to the name of God ; and that the greater the 
 sin, the greater the pardon. 
 
 In all our reflections upon the economy and 
 principles of grace, we should always keep in 
 view this grand truth, — that in the bestow- 
 ment of pardon God always has an eve to the 
 most glorious exhibition of his own excel- 
 lence. 
 
 Another principle which uniformly regulates 
 all the operations of Divine grace is this, — that 
 God herein seeks for the fullest exercise of his 
 infinite benevolence. 
 
 He delights in the highest good of his crea- 
 tures ; in their possession of that true, pure 
 happiness which results from the conscious- 
 ness of his approval, and from a conformity to 
 his character. But particularly in the dispen- 
 sation of good to the sinner^ — in visiting him 
 
DIVINE GRACE AND MAN's NEED. 89 
 
 with hope, consolation, liberty, pardon, life, — 
 does God find ample field for the operations 
 of a kindness infinite in its exercise and im- 
 measurable in its benefits. And if the exer- 
 cise of such benevolence is his delight ; if this 
 is one object of his grace, — then it is evident, 
 that the greater our need of his favors, the 
 greater is his readiness to grant them. Benev- 
 olence finds the widest range in the greatest 
 act of pardon. Ill-desert is not a barrier to the 
 bestowment of God's grace, but the very in- 
 centive to its exercise. Wretchedness is the 
 very occasion of his mercies. The greater the 
 sin, the greater his desire for its removal. The 
 greater the apostasy, and ingratitude, and ill- 
 desert, the greater his desire to reclaim and 
 bless. Inasmuch as Divine grace is based 
 upon Divine benevolence ; inasmuch as the 
 only sphere of its operation is that of guilt and 
 unworthiness ; inasmuch as it is an attribute 
 of an Infinite Mind, — we can imagine no debt 
 which it cannot cancel ; no sin which it can- 
 not bury ; no wretchedness which it cannot 
 relieve ; no want which it cannot supply. 
 There is no limit to its greatness ; no end to 
 its bounties ; no checking of its fulness ; no 
 cessation, no weariness, no clog to its exercise. 
 It is an exhaustless fountain flowing forth for 
 
90 DIVINE GRACE Ax\D MAn's NEED. 
 
 all who will drink of its waters. It is an infi- 
 nite good, covering and liquidating an infinite 
 evil, stretching on and accumulating through 
 infinite duration. Thus he who receives its 
 ofTers in vain, who passes by its streams and 
 forfeits its benefits, must charge the conse- 
 quences of his poverty to his own pride and 
 his own folly. He can in no wise impeach 
 the excellence, or disprove the sufficiency, of 
 the grace of God. 
 
 Now if these two things are true, — that the 
 putting forth of Divine grace is for the purpose 
 of its full exhibition, and for the complete ex- 
 ercise of Infinite benevolence, — then is it sure, 
 that human necessity, which makes drafts 
 upon that grace and gives the widest field to 
 that benevolence, is the very object which God 
 would search out and relieve. So that Divine 
 grace is fitted to human need ; and human 
 need is fitted to Divine grace. The principles 
 upon which it proceeds show us clearly, that 
 God's grace and man's need are precisely co- 
 incident, to whatever height, or depth, or 
 length, or breadth, that need may extend. 
 
 When I speak of man's need, I mean not 
 only his need of Divine forgiveness, but his 
 need of every spiritual blessing. The mere 
 pardon of the sinner is but the preface of Di- 
 
DIVINE GRACE AND MAN's NEED. 91 
 
 vine grace. It is only the starting forth of a 
 seed which is to grow ; which is to grow on 
 earth, and to attain full beauty and maturity 
 in heaven. Divine grace is not completed in 
 the one act of reconciliation between the sin- 
 ner and God. It seeks to bestow all blessings ; 
 to dispense alike the most precious and the 
 least. It would reclaim, it would sanctify, it 
 would comfort, it would sustain the sinner. It 
 would transfer him to pure glory in heaven. 
 It would bestow upon him joys without meas- 
 ure and without end. 
 
 Tims there is no limit to the bounteousness 
 of Divine grace. And there is no limit to its 
 hestowment where the grace is earnestly sought. 
 I say, — where it is earnestly sought; for he 
 who seeks not, desires not ; and he who de- 
 sires not, takes not ; and he who takes not the 
 gifts of grace, of necessity prevents their be- 
 stowment. He makes them, to himself, as 
 though they were not. 
 
 Though the grace of God is without limit 
 in every case where penitential desire allows 
 of its exercise, yet there only is it extended, 
 fo a sinner with suck a temper it is free. 
 When he seeks it and importunes for it, it is 
 given in abundance. 
 
92 DIVINE GRACE AND MAN's NEED. 
 
 But here I would advert again to the pecu- 
 liar plea of the Psalmist David. At a human 
 tribunal it would insure condemnation, but at 
 the throne of grace it is the only one admis- 
 sible. 
 
 That we are sinners, is the argument which 
 appeals directly and forcibly to those very prin- 
 ciples upon which the dispensation of Divine 
 grace depends, — the glory of God and his in- 
 finite benevolence. It is the plea which calls 
 his grace into exercise ; upon which its be- 
 stow ment depends. It was the plea of David. 
 It was the plea of the pubMcan, through which 
 he "went down to his house justified." It is 
 the plea which prevails. It bears on its front 
 the fundamental truth upon which every peti- 
 tion of ours must be based ; that truth which 
 is the corner-stone of every provision, of every 
 promise, and every encouragement of grace. 
 
 A plea of good desert would be false. It 
 would therefore be in vain, and impious. So 
 far from securing God's favor and blessing, it 
 would excite his indignation. The publican 
 went down to his house justified rather than 
 the Pharisee ; " for every one that humbleth 
 himself shall be exalted." 
 
 Would we urge the plea that Christ has 
 died for us ? A precious, valid, prevailing 
 
DIVINE GRACE AND MAN's NEED. 93 
 
 plea indeed. But for whom did Christ die? 
 What are we for whom he died ? Sinners. 
 If therefore we plead the death of Christ for 
 the bestowment of any good upon us, our plea 
 is notJiing except as built upon the foundation 
 plea that loe are sinners, — needy, helpless 
 ruined, desperate sinners. When we seek 
 Divine grace, we must present — side by side 
 with the great truth of Redemption — the 
 prominent, essential truth of our own guilt and 
 ruin. The influence of Christ's death ; the 
 gifts of the Holy Spirit, of pardon, of consola- 
 tion ; the promises ; the proffer of assistance ; 
 the invitations of love, — all provisions peculiar 
 to the Gospel, — are interwoven with, and pre- 
 suppose, the cardinal truth, that ive are — sin- 
 ners. 
 
 If this truth do not qualify our prayers ; if 
 it do not burn in our hearts ; if it give not ur- 
 gency, eloquence, and strength to all our ap- 
 peals to our Father in heaven, we must turn 
 from his mercy-seat without his smile, — with- 
 out the gifts of his grace. We must cling to 
 the truth that we are sinners, — that our " in- 
 iquity is greats " — or we must let go the 
 promises of the Gospel and the hope of eter- 
 nal life. The argument of our sinfulness is 
 adapted to the character of God. It is a true 
 
94 DIVINE GRACE AND MAN's XEED. 
 
 arsrument. It is the ars^ument which must be 
 urged, — importunately, earnestly, confidently, 
 — or we are undone. 
 
 Now if God extends his favor to us, — if be 
 makes us partakers of his grace, — only on she 
 condition of our urging this plea, then our sin- 
 fulness, «pon which the sense and truthfulness 
 of the plea are based, must be a reason for the 
 bestowment of grace. 
 
 Therefore, if the greatness of his iniquity be 
 the sinner's proper plea, if it is itself the reason 
 for the bestowment of grace, and if it creates 
 (as in truth it does) the sole occasion or oppor- 
 tunity for grace, — how can sin, confessed and 
 argued, furnish reason for sentence against the 
 supplicant for grace ? The supposition is a 
 contradiction to the very idea of grace, which 
 depends upon ill-desert for its exercise,* and 
 upon the plea of ill-desert for imparting its gifts. 
 
 If this is true, then the grace of God is co- 
 extensive with the sinner's iniquity ; for the 
 greater the sin and the greater the consequent 
 necessity, the more power there is in the argu- 
 ment. 
 
 * Not, however, for its existence. Neither the existence of 
 sin, nor the sacrifice of Christ, was necessary to make God 
 gracious. On this point the common argument for the neces- 
 sity of an atonement is grossly belied ; and, I may say, carica- 
 tured. 
 
DIVINE GRACE AND MAN's NEED. 95 
 
 The grace of God can reach as far as your 
 sins, my Christian brother. It can cover them 
 all, dissolve them all, so completely that no 
 vestige of them shall ever more be seen. It 
 can overreach all your iniquity ; it can supply 
 all your necessity. This is the very purpose, 
 the very nature of grace. " Where sin hath 
 abounded, grace much more abounds." In- 
 deed, when you come to his mercy-seat v^dth 
 the spirit of penitence and with the sinner's 
 plea, God does, as it were, challenge you to 
 tell him of your iniquities so great that his 
 grace through Christ cannot cancel them ; 
 challenges you to show him your sins greater 
 than his grace. Not that grace furnishes rea- 
 son for sin. God forbid. But sin furnishes 
 reason for grace. 
 
 Since these things are so, I ask you to look 
 at the Word of God, to look at the grand out- 
 line of the economy of grace, and say if it is 
 not a sin to exclaim, in face of the Bible, in 
 opposition to the full and generous principles 
 of God's grace, that we may not, cannot, dare 
 not, approach the throne of mercy, because of 
 the greatness of our necessity ortthe enormity 
 of our transgressions. Such language results 
 from a wicked, ideal limitation of God's grace ; 
 from a perversion of the very principles upon 
 
96 DIVINE GRACE AND MAN's NEED. 
 
 which it proceeds. Sinfuhiess and necessity 
 are the indispensable conditions of its bestow- 
 ment ; but unbelief says, that sinfuhiess and 
 necessity are the reasons for its denial. By 
 this false doctrine many a conscience-stricken 
 sinner has been impelled farther in sin, and 
 shut out from the kingdom of God. By this 
 falsehood Christians have shrouded themselves 
 with distress, concealed the Divine light with- 
 in them, groped in darkness, taken up with 
 wailings and tears when they ought to have 
 abounded in hymns of thanksgiving, and thus 
 puzzled and bewildered those who have been 
 watching for the correspondence of their lives 
 to the obvious principles of the Gospel. 
 
 Perhaps, my Christian brother, you are hard- 
 ly aware how, when you have proper views of 
 your own sinfulness, you misuse yourself and 
 wrong others if you suffer that sinfulness to 
 eclipse the glorious radiance of the grace of 
 God. 
 
 You are often saying, that you cannot rely 
 upon Divine grace ; that you cannot impor- 
 tune for God's aid and pardon ; that you can- 
 not step for\^rd in the path of duty and re- 
 sponsibility, because your weakness, imperfec- 
 tion, and iniquity are so great. Thus, perhaps 
 you restrain prayer, and neglect duty, and 
 
DIVINE GRACE AND MAN's NEED. 97 
 
 shrink from responsibility, and are tossed from 
 billow to billow, as the necessary consequence 
 of your unjust and absurd views of Divine 
 grace. Just as though that grace was con- 
 tracted, — just as though it was less than your 
 weakness, and unworthiness, and sin I 
 
 For your own sake, — for the sake of God's 
 honor, — away for ever with such aspersions 
 of his grace. Come to the throne of grace. 
 Come habitually. Come boldly, trustfully ; 
 not with doubting, and misgiving, and* halting, 
 and fear. Come because you are a sinner, — 
 because you are a great sinner. Come for 
 the pardon of your iniquity, because it is so 
 great. Come for grace to help you, because 
 you are in need. 
 
 And then go on in the discharge of Chris- 
 tian duty, and in the joy of Christian faith ; 
 trusting in the grace to which you have ap- 
 pealed for all your needed supplies. With 
 such trust, — with such cheering and reviving 
 views of God's grace, — you may go on 
 through temptations, trials, conflicts, duties, 
 emergencies, any thing and every thing, until 
 that grace shall make its most glorious dis- 
 play in your everlasting triumph and joy. 
 
 This one, earnest prayer, " Pardon mine 
 iniquity, O Lord, /or it is great," will procure 
 
98 DIVINE GRACE AND MAN's NEED. 
 
 for any one the free, copious grace of God ; 
 that grace which shall guide him to everlasting 
 rest and emancipate him eternally from sin 
 and from sorrow. 
 
 But woe unto him who distrusts that grace, 
 and counts it of less extent than his own trans- 
 gressions. 
 
VII. 
 
 EELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 
 
 True Christians, who have not sunk into 
 spiritual apathy, often yield to a despondency 
 which the Gospel neither warrants, encourages, 
 or produces. Indeed, almost every one who 
 has been renewed by the power of God knows 
 more or less of spiritual depression, of the deep 
 gloom of spiritual darkness. Every one who 
 has watchfully studied Christian experience 
 knows, that the disciples of Christ very often 
 forget his parting injunction, " Be of good 
 cheer"; forget the apostolic injunction, " Re- 
 joice in the Lord always " ; forget the encour- 
 agements to the Christian life ; forget the 
 promises of the Lord ; forget the largeness, the 
 freeness, the occasion of Divine grace ; forget 
 every thing save obstacles and dangers, ene- 
 mies and corruptions ; and thus give up to 
 fears, disquietudes, and sorrows. How few 
 rejoice in the Lord I How few exult in Divine 
 Power and Grace ! How few, in distrust of 
 themselves and with trust in God, boldly defy 
 every spiritual foe till they have passed from 
 
100 RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 
 
 conquest to conquest, till they have entered 
 upon eternal triumph and rest ! The harps of 
 God's people are too often upon the willows. 
 Their songs are too often faint, if not silenced. 
 Their spirit of praise and joy is too often lan- 
 guid, if not extinct. One day they chant an- 
 thems ; the next, are cast down in the dust, and 
 abound in lamentations. 
 
 Why ? "Why do not those who hope, and 
 with good reason, that they have been made 
 "joint-heirs with Christ," rejoice in his Re- 
 demption ? Why is it, that they do not mag- 
 nify the grace of God ? Why is it, that they 
 do not illustrate the worth of his renewing 
 grace by apprehending joyfullij the truths of 
 the Gospel ? Is there any evil from which he 
 will not deliver them ? any danger from which 
 he will not protect them ? any real plague 
 from which he will not free them ? Is there 
 any thing, in the whole range of spiritual 
 truths or spiritual accidents, which they need 
 to fear ? " The Lord God is a sun and shield ; 
 the Lord will give grace and glory ; no good 
 thing will he withhold from them that walk 
 uprightly." He will in no wise cast out any 
 who believe in Christ. He will impose no 
 burdens beyond what they can bear. " Like 
 as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord 
 
RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 101 
 
 pitieth them that fear him." He " will redeem 
 them from all their iniquities," " purge away 
 their sins. for his name's sake," and bring them 
 unto Mount " Zion with songs, and everlasting 
 joy upon their heads ; they shall obtain joy 
 and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall 
 flee away." Not one of them shall perish. 
 
 Why is it, then, that the children of God, 
 the heirs of immortal glory, should be carried 
 captive by the power of fear ? Is the Gospel 
 in fault? Is the influence of evangelical truth 
 the cause ? Does the Holy Spirit, by his in- 
 fluences, beget despondency ? No ; the Gos- 
 pel is " glad tidings of great joy " ; " the fruit 
 of the Spirit is love, joy, peace" ; the author 
 of salvation is " the God of hope," — " the God 
 of all comfort." He seeks to " fill " his people 
 " with all joy and peace in believing, that they 
 may abound in hope through the power of 
 the Holy Ghost." " The kingdom of God is 
 righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Hoi}'' 
 Ghost." 
 
 No ; the fault is in Christians themselves. 
 
 To account for our religious despondency, 
 we are usually told of our neglect of specific 
 Christian duties ; of our sluggishness in the 
 Christian life ; of our backwardness in further- 
 ing the plans of Christian enterprise ; of our 
 
102 RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 
 
 deficiency in spiritual meditation ; of the man- 
 ner in which we approach the throne of grace. 
 We are assured, and with truth too^ that un- 
 less we bear ourselves with carefulness and 
 scrupulousness and uniformity in these partic- 
 ulars, we shall inevitably induce darkness and 
 sorrow. These are important truths. But I 
 pass them over with a mere allusion. There 
 are other causes of spiritual gloom which I 
 wish particularly to designate. 
 
 One is, limited views of the grace of God. 
 
 Every one who has been renewed in Christ 
 Jesus is conscious of his own sinfulness. He 
 looks upon it with abhorrence. He turns his 
 eye upon his own heart, and upon his own 
 past life, and there he sees sin, — sin, — sin. 
 The more he is taught by the Spirit, and the 
 nearer he approaches to perfection, and the 
 more he learns of holiness, so much the more 
 does he discern the evil of his life and the cor- 
 ruptions of his heart. The growth of Chris- 
 tian character necessarily produces a growing 
 conception of the exceeding sinfulness of sin ; 
 of its contrariety to God ; of its opposition to 
 happiness ; of its contempt of threatenings, of 
 entreaties, of obligations, of Grace. Such, I 
 say, is the necessary result of the advance- 
 ment of Christian character. 
 
RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 103 
 
 Now with all this knowledge of sin, and 
 with the knowledge that we ourselves are sin- 
 ners, and with the knowledge of what we de- 
 serve as sinners, if there is not a correspond- 
 ing and counterbalancing view of the grace of 
 God specially provided for us, then this per- 
 ception of our personal demerit becomes a 
 necessary and an active source of disturbing 
 apprehension. So far as it goes, here is a 
 proper view of sin. Suppose in the same 
 mind there is a contracted view of the antidote 
 to sin. Suppose it is forgotten, that sin is the 
 very occasion of grace. Suppose it is kept out 
 of mind, that operating grace could not exist 
 but for sin. Suppose it is kept out of mind, 
 that as sin rises up in defiance of God and in 
 defiance of grace, so grace rises up the more 
 earnestly in its plenitude and glory to sur- 
 mount and liquidate sin. Suppose, while sin 
 is beheld as great, grace is considered as 
 small ; that while the conception of sin is ex- 
 tended, the view of grace is limited. In such 
 a case, are gloom and heaviness of heart avoid- 
 able ? While sin stands before the mind's eye 
 in its true, naked, revolting deformity ; while 
 we thus recognize it as affixed to ourselves ; 
 while memory recites the history of our wrongs 
 toward God ; must we not tremble, can we 
 
104 RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 
 
 help being affrighted at our own portrait, 
 if we forget that grace is coextensive with sin '' 
 if we forget that it is the very office of grace to 
 forgive and to cleanse, and that it is the very 
 odiousness of sin which excites grace ? Here 
 is a partial conception of Divine grace ; a mis- 
 apprehension of it ; a hiding of its glory ; a 
 forgetting of its freeness and sufficiency ; a 
 wrong view of its very nature and purpose, — 
 by all which it seems other than it is. Thus, 
 when we imagine ourselves to be contemplat- 
 ing the grace of God, we are truly contemplat- 
 ing something else ; something not adapted to 
 our necessities. And so we bear up against 
 this overwhelming, yet true, conception of sin, 
 — alone, unsupported. We ponder the black- 
 ness of our character, the terribleness of our 
 deserts, without a counterbalancing view of 
 the richness, the light, the consolation, of Di- 
 vine provisions. Ascribing an unfounded, 
 ideal limitation to Divine grace, we grapple 
 helplessly and hopelessly with the conscious- 
 ness of our guilt. Can we, thus, bear up joy- 
 fully ? No; — we must despond, w^e must 
 sink. Worldly pleasures cannot relieve us. 
 Worldly inventions, — man's wisdom, — have 
 no fitness to our case ; they have no power to 
 raise us up, to fill us with peace. Yet, let the 
 
RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 105 
 
 conception of sin be extended ever so far ; let 
 memory rehearse our transgressions with exact 
 fidelity ; let the representations of the Bible, 
 the transactions on Calvary, the approaching 
 judgment, the terrors of eternal death, illus- 
 trate with all their force the exceeding sinful- 
 ness of sin, — if we apprehend the exceeding 
 riches of Divine grace, — if we canvass its na- 
 ture, its purpose, its occasion, its greatness, its 
 freeness, — then we shake off despondency, 
 and rejoice with exceeding joy. Our concep- 
 tion of sin, our consciousness of its aggra- 
 vating circumstances, lose all their power to 
 depress. 
 
 The more we understand and abhor sin, its 
 power, its curse, — the greater will our exulta- 
 tion be, when we see the purpose, the fulness, 
 the freeness of God's grace. When, in the 
 light of the Gospel, we behold that grace ready 
 to supply all our necessities, to remove every 
 curse, to shield from every danger, to purge 
 from every corruption, to wash away all guilt, 
 — nothing can depress us, — nothing can rob 
 us of joy. 
 
 But another cause of spiritual gloom — and 
 one, I think, but little suspected — is a WTong 
 method of searching the heart ; or, rather, hav- 
 
106 RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 
 
 ing a \vrong object in view when searching the 
 hearts 
 
 Self-examination is a duty. Its purpose is, 
 that we may see " whether we are in the 
 faith." 
 
 Some Christians examine themselves by 
 looking at other objects, — sinful objects, for 
 example, — and then noticing what are their 
 feelings towards them ; or again, at holy ob- 
 jects, and then noticing what are their feelings 
 towards them, — and thus judging ''whether 
 they are in the faith," whether they have the 
 affections required in the Gospel. 
 
 Others examine themselves by looking in 
 upon themselves ; and that not so much for 
 the purpose of ascertaining whether they pos- 
 sess Christian faith, as for the purpose of find- 
 ing what of evil may be in them. They do it 
 with the distinct expectation of finding sin 
 there, with the distinct intention of detecting 
 there the forms, movements, and disguise's of 
 sin, that so they may guard against and up- 
 root it. 
 
 Others, again, scrutinize themselves not sim- 
 ply for the purpose of detecting and eradicating 
 sin, and not simply for the purpose of judging 
 "whether they are in the faith"; but in the 
 hope of finding something g^ood there in which 
 
REJGK^US DESPONDENCY. 107 
 
 they may g-^ny, — being of a different mind 
 from Paul, who " most gladly gloried in his 
 infirmity^ that the power of Christ might rest 
 upon him." Or they look in upon their hearts 
 in the hope of finding righteousness there in 
 which they may rejoice ; being again of a dif- 
 ferent mind from Paul, who sought to be 
 " found in Christ not having his own righteous- 
 ness, but the righteousness which is of 
 
 God by faith." 
 
 The consequence of such examination of the 
 heart is any thing but satisfaction. Its direct 
 and necessary result, if we are honest and 
 faithful in the work, is despondency. 
 
 What is there in ourselves ? Any thing 
 which should afford us pleasure ? Any thing 
 which should be a matter of exultation ? Any 
 thing for which xve are commendable ? Any 
 thing of which we may boast ? O, no ! noth- 
 ing ! If, then, we exclude other objects from 
 view and fix our vision upon our own hearts, 
 we have before us nothing but imperfection, 
 — sin, — the very thing we most loathe. Thus 
 employed, — especially if we are hoping to find 
 goodness within ourselves, — we, of course, 
 experience bitter disappointment ; for we find 
 the very opposite of goodness. Can a cUild 
 of God rejoice while unfolding his own heart? 
 8 
 
108 RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 
 
 Can one who hates sin rejoice while discover- 
 ing it in his very self? How can he rejoice at 
 such discovery when he has just opened the 
 door of his heart with the vain, foolish, fond 
 hope of finding something good there ? No ; 
 so long as he gazes there ; so long as he ru-? 
 mi nates upon what he finds there ; so long as 
 he revolves its particulars, and analyzes its 
 properties, and observes its daily influences, 
 and shuts his eye against every other view, — 
 he must be heavy-hearted, he must be discour- 
 aged ; he cannot but cry out for bitterness of 
 soul. It is absurd for a sinful man to look in 
 upon himself honestly, and searchingly, for 
 consolation. We have no right to do so. It 
 is not the object for which we are bidden to 
 examine ourselves. Nor are we told to look 
 upon ourselves exclusively for any purpose, or 
 at any time. But we are told never to turn 
 our eyes away from Christ. And when we, 
 so intently and exclusively, and with a pur- 
 pose so absurd, gaze upon our own hearts, we 
 do turn our eyes from Christ. And we thus 
 disobey the Gospel. What wonder, that in 
 the very act of disobedience we are given over 
 to despondency ? It is our duty to look to 
 Christ ; to drink in the delightful displays of 
 his loveliness and sufficiency. When we do 
 
RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 109 
 
 otherwise, our spirits must faint, our hearts 
 must ache. We are out of the way of duty. 
 We are away from the fountain of consolation, 
 and joy, and life. We avert our eyes and 
 exclude the brightness of Divine glory as it 
 shines in the face of Jesus Christ. We are 
 drinking at the very fountain of bitterness and 
 sorrow. 
 
 What is it which sometimes pours such a 
 flood of light and joy upon the soul of one 
 just " turned from the power of Satan unto 
 God"? The contemplation of himself ? No; 
 it -is the apprehension of his Saviour. And 
 what is it which always gives the Christian 
 his seasons of joy ? In what is his chief de- 
 light ? It is in fixing his eye upon the excel- 
 lence, the loveliness, the sufficiency, the pre- 
 ciousness of his Lord ; not in riveting his eye 
 upon the realities of his own heart, and tracing 
 out the repulsive features of his own charac 
 ter. Self can afford no satisfaction to the 
 Christian. The contemplation of self can 
 never fill him with joy. There will be no hap- 
 piness from such a source, even when we are 
 perfected. David said, " I shall be satisfied 
 when I awake " — satisfied with what ? — 
 " with thy likeness." Think you that glorified 
 saints are vain of their robes? Do they look 
 
110 RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 
 
 into the pure fountains of heaven with pleas- 
 ure merely because they see reflected their 
 own symmetry and glory ? What ! when all 
 their perfectness is the work of Christ ! when 
 their apparel is all borrowed from the "vestry 
 of Divine grace ! Pure as they are, is self 
 their chief delight ? their great source of hap- 
 piness ? their great object of contemplation ? 
 Precious as their purity is to themselves, their 
 happiness is in Christ. They are happy not 
 only in the exercise of gratitude to him for 
 what they are, but chiefly in the unwearying 
 employment of getting larger and still larger 
 views of his glory. The throne of the Lamb, 
 — the glory that is thereon, — is the grand 
 focus of their thought and their affection. Ev- 
 ery mouth is sounding forth his praise. Ev- 
 ery eye is dwelling upon his glory. Every 
 heart is panting for his smile. Every foot is 
 pressing with rapturous devotion to be near 
 to him. There, happiness is in perfection ; 
 despondency is unknown. Why ? Because 
 there all are engaged in contemplating Him 
 who has " redeemed them to God by his 
 blood," and w^ashed them therein. Because 
 there Christ is the absorbing object of thought, 
 of love, of praise. 
 
 And shall we, — corrupt, imperfect men, — 
 
RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. Hj 
 
 SO far beneath the saints in pureness ; we, in 
 whom God's work — if begun at all — is but 
 just begun ; shall w^e be gazing upon our- 
 selves and turning our eyes from Christ ? 
 What have we to do with ourselves as means 
 of comfort? or as sources of satisfaction ? We 
 have to deal with ourselves only in the way of 
 culture. For our model, our glory, our joy, we 
 must look to Christ. If we would be free 
 from despondency, we must let ourselves alone, 
 except as we strive cheerfully, and patiently, 
 to bring ourselves, by Divine aid, into a sweet 
 similitude to Jesus. And this is to be done 
 only by beholding him. " We shall be like 
 him when we see him as he is." Every re- 
 viving spiritual impulse must be given to us by 
 some fresh emanation from him. Such im- 
 pulse cannot come from self; from the energy 
 or the contemplation of self. It must be given 
 by imbibing his radiance and contemplating 
 his glory ; just as the tender shrub receives 
 reviving impulse from the light of the re- 
 turning sun. Sin will annoy us, because it 
 will reside in us, so long as we abide here. 
 But if we look to Christ, trust him, feed upoti 
 him as " the bread of life," then sin, with all 
 its accursing power, will prove only like the 
 chrysalis's web which the sunlight penetrates. 
 
112 RELIGIOUS DESPOx^DENCY. 
 
 It will soon burst. It will soon be cast off 
 Our souls will then rise to heaven in full glory 
 not for the display of themselves to themselves ; 
 not for the display of themselves to others ; 
 but to be humble witnesses to Redeeming 
 Love, to chant for ever their Redeemer's 
 praise, to dwell for ever upon their Redeemer's 
 excellence. 
 
 Where is the source of true happiness ? In 
 the creature ? or in the Creator ? In a foun- 
 tain of uncleanness ? or in the fountain of Di- 
 vine excellence ? Here, — in my heart, for me ? 
 in your heart, for you ? or there, — in heaven ? 
 in the perceptible glory of God in Christ ? 
 O ! it is surely — there ; for you, for me, for 
 saints, for angels, for all. God, as revealed in 
 the person of Jesus Christ, — he is the source 
 of all happiness; of all strength ; of all excel- 
 lence. When, therefore, you or I or any other 
 one turns his eye upon self, excluding heaven- 
 ly objects, each will be constrained to exclaim, 
 " O, wretched man that I am, who shall de- 
 liver me from the body of this death ! " To 
 this we must necessarily be driven, because 
 we fix our gaze, upon that which is odious, 
 and in the same act turn away from the only 
 object which can revive and rejoice us. We 
 look upon ourselves, we look away from Christ. 
 
RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 113 
 
 Where, then, is the cause of Christian de- 
 spondency ? Is it the legitimate influence of 
 the Gospel ? Is it a necessary consequence 
 of being a Christian ? Is it a fruit of the 
 Spirit ? Is it a part of Christian life ? Is it 
 an essential peculiarity of a Christian ? As 
 well might we suppose it to be an essential 
 peculiarity of heaven. No. The truths of the 
 Gospel, and the influences of the Spirit, pro- 
 duce brokenness of heart, hatred of sin, and an 
 understanding of self. Bat when the Gospel 
 tells of sin, it points also to grace ; when it 
 speaks of condemnation, it also proclaims, — 
 " Christ Jesus came into the world to save sin- 
 ners." And when the Holy Spirit unveils the 
 sinfulness of sin and the sinfuhiess of one's 
 self, — without exception, — he seeks to direct 
 us, at the same time, to the glory, excellence, 
 and preciousness of Christ ; so that, by looking 
 thereon, we may be more and more like him. 
 Even " the Law is our schoolmaster to bring 
 us to Christ.^^ And if we do not heed the 
 Spirit of God ; if, luhile conscious of sinful- 
 ness, we do not also behold and trust in 
 Christ, and*are thus cast down, — where is the 
 fault ? In the Spirit of God ? In the Gospel ? 
 In the nature of piety ? No ; but in our own 
 error of vision ; in our misdirected vision. We * 
 
114 RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 
 
 can only be happy, peaceful, when we believe , 
 only when we behold sin and grace; only 
 when we look upon self and Christ ; only 
 w^hen we can commit sin to grace, and self to 
 Christ. Sin without gi'ace is fearful ; but 
 even in view of sin we can rejoice, if we be- 
 hold the exceeding riches and the sole purpose 
 of grace. So self without Christ is a fearful 
 object of contemplation ; but self in Christ, 
 and Christ in self, and self lost in Christ, — 
 this is a view in which we may exult. And 
 this is the view which the Gospel (glad tidings) 
 presents. 
 
 Learn, then. Christian brother, how to re- 
 joice. Learn how to glorify God in your joy. 
 And, O ! cease to bring suspicion upon the 
 Gospel ; cease to teach men to look upon vital 
 piety with dread. Cease, — by allowing piety 
 to have its natural growth and to perform its 
 legitimate work. Cease, — by allowing to the 
 Gospel its proper, uninterrupted influence upon 
 you ; by allowing the Spirit of God, — the 
 Spirit of grace, — the Spirit of consolation, — • 
 to lead, to guide, to influence you, just as He 
 would do. 
 
 " So shall your walk be close with God, 
 Calm and serene your frame ; 
 ffn And clearer light shall mark the road 
 
 That leads you to the Lamb." 
 
RELIGIOUS DESPONDENCY. 115 
 
 Learn how to rejoice. Learn to contem- 
 plate Divine grace just as it is set forth in the 
 Gospel ; to contemplate Christ just as he is 
 set forth there. Though your faith be but an 
 infant faith, yet why be heavy-hearted when 
 there is so much to make you happy in " the 
 unsearchable riches of Christ"? "Though 
 your sins be as scarlet," and rise toward 
 heaven like mountains, yet, O ! why be heavy- 
 hearted when there is grace, full grace, free 
 grace, willing grace, grace enough, with God, 
 to cover them all up, to blot them all out? 
 "Why art thou cast down," Obeliever! and 
 why is your " soul disquieted " within you ? 
 " Hope thou in God,^^ and you shall then 
 " praise him for the help of his countenance." 
 
VIIL 
 
 THE EXCELLENCE OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF 
 CHRIST. 
 
 The true knowledge of Christ is an excel- 
 lent knowledge. The Apostle Paul, who had 
 received "abundance of revelations," and whose 
 judgment in this matter was formed under the 
 special tuition of the Holy Spirit, declares it 
 to be the most excellent knowledge. He says, 
 " Yea, doubtless, I count all things loss for th:e 
 excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus 
 my Lord." When he wrote these words, he 
 would rather have known Christ, than to have 
 been rich, or honored, or learned, or beloved, 
 or " a Hebrew of the Hebrews " ; rather than 
 to have had any thing or to have been any 
 thing which men naturally esteem. Like 
 Mary, he would rather sit at Jesus's feet, and 
 look up at Jesus's face, and learn of Him who 
 is meek and lowly of heart, — he would rather 
 have had " the light of the knowledge of the 
 glory of God in the face of Jesus Chris t,^^ — 
 than to have ha^ any other teacher, or any 
 other object of admiration, or the light of any 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 117 
 
 other glory in the universe. " Yea, doubtless," 
 noiv he would say, " I count all things loss for 
 the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus 
 my Lord." " Yea, doubtless," even the splen- 
 dors of the golden city are nothing to him ; 
 and the glories of archangels, nothing ; and 
 the discourse of archangels, nothing ; and the 
 fellowship and melody of his fellow-martyrs, 
 nothing ; and his own crown of glory, nothing ; 
 and thrones, and dominions, and principalities, 
 and powers, nothing, — except as " Christ is 
 all and in all." Upon every face and diadem ; 
 upon every pearl and precious stone ; upon 
 every mansion, and arbor, and fountain in 
 the New Jerusalem, — there is some testimony 
 of Jesus. All things there are bright and 
 beautiful only because " the glory of God doth 
 lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." 
 And thus the knowledge of Christ is the 
 charm of heaven ; the key to its beauties ; the 
 secret of its holiness, of its harmony, of its fel- 
 lowship, of its happiness. 
 
 The knowledge of Christ includes, evident- 
 ly, a correct idea of him. 
 
 We must have a correct idea of his conduct. 
 We must understand to what trials and temp- 
 tations he was subjected. We must under- 
 
118 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 stand the truth that he went through all with- 
 out one evil feeling, or impure thought, or 
 word, or act, toward God or toward man. We 
 must understand also that he maintained 
 through all every right feeling, and all rig-Itt 
 behavior, in word and deed, toward God and 
 man, from the manger to the cross; and this, 
 too, while possessed of all the susceptibilities 
 and properties of a human soul. In short, we 
 must have a familiar understanding both of 
 his temper and his life as a man ; of their 
 wonderful and spotless beauty. 
 
 Again, we must have a correct idea of him 
 as " both Lord and Christ" ; as " Lord both of 
 the dead and living." We must understand 
 that, " all things being delivered unto him of 
 the Father," '^ 3.\\ poiver being given unto him 
 in heaven and in earth," he holds the reins 
 of universal government ; that the impulses of 
 his hand are concerned in every movement 
 and in every breath of the whole creation, in 
 every event of universal providence, in heaven 
 and earth and air and sea. We must recog- 
 nize his right to homage and faith and obedi- 
 ence, as King and Governor of all things. 
 
 And yet more ; we must have a correct idea 
 of his Love. It is a Love beyond every other 
 Love. It bore him on through persecution 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 119 
 
 and poverty and the hidings of the Father's 
 face and the chastisement of the Father's rod, 
 through the mysterious sufferings of his soul 
 upon the cross where he was hung and smit- 
 ten and bruised as the sacrifice for sin. It is a 
 Love which has yearned over us since the 
 hour when he cried, " It is finished " ; through 
 all our ingratitude, contempt, guilt, foolhardi- 
 ness, idolatry. It is a Love which has bovg-ht 
 us ; — " with a price " ; — with the price of 
 blood; with the price of more than blood. It 
 is a Love which has bought for us, and offers 
 to us, — heaven. It is a Love which has 
 bought for us, and gives to us, our day of 
 grace and our means of grace. It is a Love 
 which has given us food, and raiment, and 
 health, and homes, and domestic enjoyments, 
 and each particular blessing which has ever 
 gladdened our hearts and cheered the path 
 of our pilgrimage. It is the Love of a Shep- 
 herd, and Bishop, and Friend ; ever ready 
 to help us, to strengthen us, to guide us, to 
 protect us, to comfort us. It is a Love ready 
 to befriend us against sin ; against the Law ; 
 against temptation ; against the adversary j 
 aye, ready and able and longing- to do it. It 
 is a Love ever reaching after us, — yes, after 
 all of us, — that it may bear our burdens, and 
 
120 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 cany our sorrows, and dry our tears, and bind 
 up our wounds, be our troubles what they 
 may, — spiritual or worldly, — great or trivial ; 
 a Love for all who are careworn and way- 
 worn ; for all, yea a//, who " labor and are 
 heavy-laden." It is a Love, — O for a tongue 
 that could tell it I O for a hand that could 
 depict it! My brother! my fellow-sinner! 
 beloved of Him who bled upon the cross I I 
 am los4;, — losty — here ! It is a tide which 
 rises, — and rises, — and never ebbs. It is a 
 sea, — "without a bottom or a shore." No 
 line cayi fathom it. No eye ca7i measure it. 
 No supplications can tire it. No drafts of the 
 needy on earth or in heaven, for time or for 
 eternity, can exhaust it. It is matchless-; 
 munificent; unsought; unmerited; unlimited 
 Love. It passeth knowledge. It passeth 
 knowledge. 
 
 Now, to know Christy we must know his 
 Love. We must understand its sacrifices ; its 
 condescension; its grace; its fulness; its sym- 
 pathy ; its sufficiency ; its perfect fitness to 
 all our wants. 
 
 Yet this is not all that is included in the 
 knowledge of Christ. It is not merely a cor- 
 rect idea of his conduct as a man ; of his su- 
 premacy as Lord ; of his love as Saviour and 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 121 
 
 Shepherd, and Friend. It is something more. 
 It is a knowledge of him which exists in the 
 heart as well as in the head. It is a knowl- 
 edge which comes from feeling' what he is, as 
 well as from perceiving it. 
 
 When we can sit down, with the Gospels 
 before us, and trace out all the particulars of 
 his weary life, — his humility, his gentleness, 
 his meekness, his filial devotedness to the 
 Father's glory, his filial resignation to the 
 Father's will; when we think of his lovely de- 
 portment toward the widow and the childless ; 
 when we think of him at the grave of Lazarus, 
 among the faint and hungry, among the liers- 
 in-wait for his blood, in the wilderness, in the 
 garden, in the hall of jadgment, on the cross; 
 when we so look at these things that " our 
 hearts burn within us " toward his spotless holi- 
 ness ; we have a clearer conception, a different 
 and a better knowledge of him than when Wje 
 read or think of his life ivithout emotion. 
 
 And when we so think of his exaltation to 
 the throne of the Father, that we feel that 
 his hand is in every event, that his authority 
 is prefixed to every commandment, and that 
 his power controls a wicked world, we have 
 a clearer perception, a far different and a 
 better knowledge of him, than when we think 
 
122 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 of his supremacy, but do not apply it and 
 feel it. 
 
 So also is the knowledge of his Love. The 
 sinner who looks at his cross, convinced of 
 his own ruin and helplessness ; who looks and 
 feels the preciousness of that atonement; who 
 looks and luelcomes it ; who looks and melts 
 beneath it; who looks and casts himself upon 
 it, — knows something more about a Saviour's 
 love than is seen with the eye of the mind. 
 So does he also, when his heart recognizes and 
 feels a Saviour^s love in his daily mercies and 
 afflictions. So also, when he feels the Sav- 
 iour's sufficiency and watchfulness and tender- 
 ness as his Shepherd ; and his fidelity as his 
 Bishop ; and his sympathy and support and 
 peace-giving influence as a Friend in the fel- 
 lowship of the closet. 
 
 Yes, wheresoever and in whomsoever the 
 character and government and love of Christ 
 have touched the heart, there is a knowledge 
 to which a mere reader or hearer of the Truth 
 could not attain for ever. Without this, had 
 we the intellectual eye of a seraph and a 
 place under the clear sunlight of the third 
 heaven and the lessons of " ten thousand in- 
 structors in Christ" through successive ages, 
 ' we should not know so much of him as the 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 123 
 
 spiritual babe knows whose heart is just open- 
 ed to feel the mystery of the cross. Our 
 knowledge — ever so correct intellectually — 
 would be essentially void both of Life and of 
 Truth. 
 
 But I have said, in concurrence w^th St. 
 Paul, that this knowledge of Christ is of un- 
 equalled excellence or value. 
 
 A tree is known by its fruits. If the fruit 
 be excellent, then is the tree excellent. If its 
 fruit be most precious, so also is the tree. 
 What, then, are the fruits of this knowledge 
 of Christ? What effects does it produce ? Are 
 they valuable? Are they above value? So, 
 then, is the knowledge whence they grow. 
 
 Observe the influence of this knovvdedge 
 upon the several parts of Christian character. 
 
 Here is a man who lives daily in view of 
 Christ. His Saviour is the chief object of his 
 contemplation. He loves, in the morning, to 
 betake himself to the study of Clnist. He 
 loves to do it through the business of the day. 
 He loves to do it at evening, and in the watches 
 of the night; in the house; by the way; at 
 home ; abroad. He is daily discovering some 
 new beauty in his Saviour's character ; some 
 new feature of his Love, or his power, or his 
 providence, or his practical holiness. Christ 
 
 9 
 
124 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. ' 
 
 is the companion of his thoughts, the friend ol 
 his bosom, the confidant of his doubts and 
 fears and joys and troubles. He is seeking and 
 finding some new interpretation of Christ in all 
 the history and in all the doctrines of the Bible, 
 — in the scenes of Calvary, — in the terrors of 
 Sinai, — in the works of nature, — in the events 
 of providence. In other words, he is living 
 under the light of his Saviour's countenance, 
 under the influence of his Saviour's example, 
 under the sound of his Saviour's voice, under 
 the sweet influences of his Saviour's fellowship. 
 Thus he has that knowledge of Christ which 
 comes i'iom. intimacy^ — from affectionate inti- 
 m.acy ; and in this knowledge he grows. 
 
 What is the result? The result! Why! 
 man and man do not more surely assimilate 
 under the influence of daily and friendly and 
 long-continued intercourse, than do man and 
 Christ. The spirit and the habits of an affec- 
 tionate child are not more surely moulded 
 after the pattern of its mother, by whose side 
 it lives and upon whose bosom it is wont to 
 rest and whose virtues and discretion it is 
 wont to inspect and admire, — than the spirit 
 and habits of such a Christian are moulded 
 after the pattern of his Lord and Friend. He 
 is familiar with the meekness of Christ, and 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 125 
 
 has an eye to appreciate its beauty ; and it 
 begets meekness in himself. He perceives 
 distinctly the gentleness of Christ, and has a 
 heart to feel its excellence ; and it begets gen- 
 tleness of spirit, of conversation, of conduct. 
 He studies the tender kindness of Christ to- 
 ward the poor, and the sick, and the widow, 
 and the mourner, and has a heart to feel its 
 loveliness ; and it opens his heart, and his 
 hand, and his words of comfort, to the sons 
 and daughters of sorrow. He discovers more 
 and more of his Saviour's love as it is betoken- 
 ed in his suffering of death, — in the works of 
 his hand, — in the bounties of his providence, 
 — in his promises, — in his consolations, — in 
 his sympathy, — in his fellowship; and his 
 heart is impelled to new and stronger emotions 
 of Faith. He lifts up his eye and reads the 
 proofs of Christ's sufficiency as High-Priest, 
 and as Bishop, and as Advocate, and as Shep- 
 herd; he lifts up his eye and beholds the Su- 
 premacy of Christ, " far above all principality 
 and power and might and dominion and every 
 name that is named"; and again his heart is 
 impelled to Faith, — yes, and to Hope, and to 
 Courage, and to Patience, and to Love, and to 
 Obedience. 
 
 In like manner the knowledge of Christ op- 
 
126 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 erates to the culture of every branch of Chris- 
 tian virtue ; toward man and God ; toward 
 holiness and sin ; toward the good and the 
 wicked; — of thought, of feeling, of devotion, 
 of word, of business, of charity. 
 
 But enough of illustration. Hear one word 
 of testimony. " His divine power," says an 
 inspired Christian, " hath given unto us all 
 things that pertain unto life and godliness.''^ 
 How ? By what means ? " Through the 
 knoivledge of him that hath called us to glory 
 and virtue." And again, " We all, with open 
 face, beholding as in a glass the glory of the 
 Lordy are changed into the same image from 
 glory to glory." 
 
 And thus, by the knowledge of Christy the 
 Christian grows ; grows in his Master's like- 
 ness ; grows in his Master's glory and beauty ; 
 grows in every grace ; grows in the form and 
 symmetry and poiuer of godliness. It is so in 
 heaven, my brother. It is to be so when 
 Christ shall appear in his glory. " We shall 
 be like him, for we shall see him as he is,^^ 
 And if it be so in heaven, must it not be so on 
 earth? If his saints are wrought more and 
 more into his likeness by the knowledge of 
 him there, will they not be wrought into his 
 likeness by means of the knowledge of him 
 here ? 
 
THE KJVOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 127 
 
 But, O brother I if what I say, and if what 
 the Scripture says, upon this point, fail to 
 waken within you. a lively conviction of its 
 truth, go to some disciple who has been taught 
 by long experience ; to some one who is versed 
 in the mystery of godliness ; to some one who 
 bears about the tokens of a rich and fruitful 
 piety ; and ask him where his heart has burned 
 most with Faith and Love and Hope and every 
 other Christian affection. Ask him where the 
 evil inclinations of his heart have been most 
 subdued. Ask him where he has been most 
 impelled to holiness of outward life. Hb will 
 say, at the foot of the cross; in the closet; 
 where he has seen the most of Christ ; where 
 he has heard the most of him ; where he has 
 felt the most of him ; where he has grown the 
 most in the knowledge of him. Yes ; and he 
 would say too, " Live thou also under the light 
 of his glory ; grow thou in the knowledge of 
 Christ, if thou wouldst grow in grace." 
 
 But there is another result of the knowledge 
 of Christ. While it pushes the Christian 
 graces, of heart and life, toward perfection, it 
 has set in motion graces which, in their turn, 
 bear fruit also. " If these things be in you and 
 abound, they make you that ye shall be neither 
 
128 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 Set Christian affections to work, and you 
 have set the Christian to work. If he has 
 slept before, he sleeps no longer. If he has 
 been a loiterer and an eyesore in the vineyard 
 of his Lord, he is so no longer. No Christian 
 can keep alive a heartfelt knowledge of Christ, 
 no Christian can be sensible of the excellence 
 and glory of Christ, without imbibing the 
 spirit and the habits of his Master. " The 
 love of Christ constraineth us." It impels us. 
 Wheh we perceive what he is, and feel it ; 
 when thus we are infused with the life of 
 piety ; we talv:e up forthwith the business of 
 piety. We go about doing good. We em- 
 ploy our talents in the service of our Lord. 
 They are no longer in a napkin, — out of sight, 
 
 — out of use. We are on our feet. We are 
 at our posts. We cannot help it. The knowl- 
 edge of Christ constrains us, — impels us, — 
 " bears us away like a strong and resistless 
 torrent."* We are bringing something to pass, 
 
 — in the family, — in the church, — in the 
 street; something for Christ; something for 
 him who loved us ; something for him who 
 
 * Doddridge's Expositor, on 2 Cor. v. 14, and on Phil. i. 23, 
 note. 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 129 
 
 hath called us, and baptized us, and com- 
 muned with us, and comforted us. We are 
 doing it by prayer, interceding for our house- 
 holds. We are doing it by instruction, teach- 
 ing our households. We are doing it in our 
 intercourse with our brethren ; by exhortation ; 
 by counsel ; by sympathy ; by encouragement; 
 by prayer. 
 
 O, who can be a neuter, — a drone, — a 
 grovelling gatherer of the muck and straw and 
 tinsel of this world, — or a puling craver for 
 the mere nosegays or philosophy of religion, — 
 when the knowledge of Christ is lively within 
 him ; when Christ dwelleth in his heart ; 
 w^hen Christ is formed in him the hope of 
 glory ? 
 
 But the enlivening of Christian graces by 
 the knowledge of Christ brings yet another re- 
 sult. Not only does the tree produce fruit, but 
 the fruit produces seed, and the seed produces 
 fruit again. The knowledge of Christ rouses 
 piety; and piety impels to consistency; and 
 consistency goes abroad, wath her robes of 
 modesty and her voice of eloquence, like an 
 angel, among the scoffers and the hard-hearted. 
 Yes, like an angel, she can win her way to 
 many a haunt of vice, to many a hovel of 
 jealous and ignorant poverty, where a Phari- 
 
130 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 see, with his phylacteries and his tithes and 
 hisiong prayers and his widow's spoils, would 
 not go if he could, and could not go if he 
 dared. Yes, like an angel, site can win her 
 way to ears that are deaf as adders' to others ; 
 she^ by the blessing of God, can still tongues 
 which spit derision like serpents at others ; 
 and charm them, too ; and teach them to extol 
 religion. Slie., by God's blessing, can speak 
 of Christ's love, and touch the heart of the 
 stupid and worldly-minded, when a halting, 
 fitful, inconsistent disciple will leave no bless- 
 ms, behind him in the day of his death: but 
 his " remembrance shall perish," and his " name 
 shall rot." 
 
 O for a piety which shall disperse itself! 
 O for a piety, — a noiseless, gentle, unpre- 
 tending piety, — which men may recognize as 
 my gift from heaven ; which shall leave the 
 softening impress of its influence upon other 
 hearts, and be whispered by other tongues 
 when this heart and this tongue .are awaiting 
 the resurrection I O, then, for the knowledge 
 of my Redeemer! O for a clear and growing 
 and impelling discovery of the glory of Him 
 who died upon the cross ! 
 
 But, brother beloved, follow me a step far- 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 131 
 
 ther, for my heart is in this matter. Look at 
 the indaence of the knowledge of Christ upon 
 the Christian's happiness. 
 
 There is such a thing as peace of mind. 
 There is such a thing as sweet peace, — " per- 
 fect peace." Yes, — here in this vale of tears, 
 — here, amid all the distractions and changes 
 and responsibilities of a wicked world. There 
 is such a thing as a mind " quiet from the fear 
 of evil." There is such a thins: as evins: the 
 rising cloud of a temporal adliction, as looking 
 upon the cup of bitterness which Providence 
 is mingling, and yet saying with a peaceful, 
 blissful spirit, " Thy will be done I " There is 
 such a thing as baring ourselves to the rod 
 without a fear of one stripe more than is need- 
 ful, or of one stroke which shall cut too deep. 
 Nay, more. There is such a thing as sweet 
 and perfect peace, even under the testimony of 
 the Law. We can be conscious of our past 
 sins ; we can perceive much of their enormity ; 
 we can be conscious of present imperfection ; 
 we can be vividly aware of the terrors of the 
 second death, and of our own personal inabili- 
 ty to escape it ; we can lie down to die, and 
 bid adieu to husband, wife, children, to all that 
 are bound to our hearts here ; we can step 
 down into the river which alone separates us 
 
132 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 from the solemnities and decisions of eternity 
 and yet be at peace.* 
 
 And there is such a thing as being comfort- 
 ed when we mourn. There is such a thing as 
 having a wounded heart healed, — a throbbing 
 heart soothed, — an aching heart consoled. 
 There is such a thing as getting " the oil of 
 joy for mourning ; the garment of praise for 
 the spirit of heaviness"; — a different thing, 
 very, from healing the hurt, slightly, with 
 amusement, or business, or philosophy so 
 called. There is such a thing as affliction 
 itself being turned into blessing; mourning 
 itself into rejoicing ; lamentations themselves 
 into praises. The very death and burial of an 
 earthly hope — an occasion to-day of the bit- 
 terest grief — may be to-morrow a source of 
 the purest blessing. The very time and place 
 
 * When Bishop Butler lay on his death-bed, he called for his 
 chaplain, and said, " Though I have endeavored to avoid sin 
 and to please God to the utmost of my power, yet, from the 
 consciousness of perpetual infirmities, I am still afraid to die." 
 "My lord," said the chaphiin, ''you have forgotten that Jesus 
 Christ is a Saviour." " True," was the answer, " but how shall 
 I know that he is a Saviour for me?" "My lord, it is writ- 
 ten, 'He that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out,' " 
 " True," said the Bishop, " and I am surprised, that, though I 
 have read that Scripture a thousand times over, I never felt its 
 virtue till this moment. And now I die happy." — N. Y. 
 Observer, May^ 1840. , 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 133 
 
 of its death may be the birthplace and the 
 birthday of a better. The tomb where we 
 bury it may be the very spot of resurrection 
 for another and a better. From its very ashes 
 there may spring to life a new one, — a better 
 one, — yea, one " full of immortality." 
 
 These things are very precious blessings. 
 Neither their reality nor their value can be 
 questioned. Both have been proved by the 
 actual experience of thousands. But how do 
 they spring into life ? How do they become 
 the portion of men ? Whence (lows this peace 
 in view of evils temporal and of evils spiritual? 
 Whence this comfort under the most severe 
 tribulations of life ? 
 
 I answer, — through the knowledge of Christ. 
 Yes ; let the Christian but open his eye and 
 his heart to the character of his Saviour ; let 
 him but perceive ^ndfeel the truth that Jesus 
 governs ; then he can foresee the coming tem- 
 pest; ((//e/z he can watch the mingling of his 
 cup; then he can look at the uplifted rod ; — 
 sure that he needs them ; sure that they will 
 be meted to him in tenderness. TJien he can 
 trust, and trust, and be at peace. 
 
 Let him but perceive and feel Christ's suffi- 
 ciency as his Sacrifice ; his fidelity and ability 
 
134 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 and love as his Shepherd ; his power as his 
 Advocate ; and what though he has sinned ? 
 what if the Law do thunder ? what if the ad- 
 versary do roar ? what if temptations and 
 tempters do beset him ? what if tliere are un- 
 slain corruptions within him? what if he be 
 helpless ? There is blood enough for his 
 sprinkling ; grace enough for his pardon > 
 power enough for his purging; and Love 
 enough for his sitrety. Then — he can rest 
 himself in peace. He can quietly, yet humbly 
 and obediently, leave himself, for acquittal and 
 salvation, with the faithful Shepherd of Is- 
 rael. 
 
 Let him but know the sympathy and fel- 
 lowship of Christ ; let him but know them by 
 having tested them in the way of confidential 
 communion; and ihen^ when the cloud of 
 grief bursts, when bereavement strips him, 
 when some creature staff fails him, he will 
 find his way, like the pelted bird, to his place 
 of refuge, like the hunted hart to his covert. 
 He will throw himself upon Christ as a bosom 
 Friend. He will show him his wounds. He 
 will tell him his grief. And He who has 
 stricken will heaL Thus life will come to 
 him from death ; hope from darkness. Trou- 
 ble impels him to his Saviour ; and there, 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 135 
 
 upon Ids bosom, receiving his consolations, 
 he gains a peculiar and precious foretaste of 
 heaven, and an earnest of salvation. 
 
 " The men of grace have found 
 Glory beg-un below. 
 Celestial fruits, on earthly ground, 
 From Faith and Hope, may grow.'' 
 
 But do you ask yet again, Whence flows 
 this peace ? and whence this comfort ? Then 
 I answer again, — not in my own words, — 
 " Acquaint now thyself with him and be at 
 peace ; thereby good shall come unto thee." 
 " Grace and peace [shall] be multiplied unto 
 you tlirougli the knoivledge of God and of Je- 
 sus Christ our Lord." 
 
 Now, then, can either you or I compute the 
 value of this knowledge of Christ? Can 
 either you or I compute the excellency of its 
 fruits ? Well, — well might Paul exclaim, 
 " I count all things loss for the excellency 
 of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord." 
 And well may we echo his exclamation. 
 Well may we plead continually with this 
 prayer upon our lips, — "Lord, Lord, ever- 
 more give us this bread." 
 
 Is there any equivalent for this knowledge ? 
 Is there any thing else which will " yield us the 
 
136 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 peaceable fruits of righteousness " ? any thing 
 else which will train us up to the fulness of 
 the stature of perfection in Christ? any thing 
 else which will invigorate hope, faith, love, 
 obedience, meekness, brotherly kindness, char- 
 ity, every other virtue ? any thing else which 
 will impel us to fidelity, to steadfastness, to 
 labor, to self-denial, to consistency ? any thing 
 else which can fill us with peace ? which can 
 open to us the fountain of God's consolation 
 in our days of trial? What? 
 
 As for the world, — the things of the world, 
 a.nd the friendship of the world, — they are 
 powerless. They are not to be reckoned. They 
 have no more intrinsic fitness to the soul's 
 wants, than the doctrines of the Bible have to 
 the body's wants. But go to the Bible. What 
 else is there even there which can do these 
 things for us ? " The Law is weak through 
 the flesh." " The Law is our schoolmaster" 
 only " to h'ing us to Christ.^^ Look, then, at 
 the Gospel. But what is there there which 
 can thus serve us ? Why ! Christ is the Alpha 
 and the Omega of the Gospel. All the Gos- 
 pefs doctrines are both senseless and power- 
 less save as they teach us Christ. 
 
 O, it is in vain to hope for growth in grace, for 
 sanctification of heart, for holiness of life, for the 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 137 
 
 influence of consistent example, for peace, foi 
 comfort, for any thing by which we may adorn 
 .the doctrine of our Lord, do good, overcome 
 the world, and ripen for heaven, — without the 
 knowledge of Christ! This is the great secret 
 of piety. This is the secret of its growth. 
 This is the great antidote to sin ; to spiritual 
 slumber; to stupidity; to the seductions of the 
 world ; to an unquiet mind ; to a bleeding 
 heart. It is this^ brother. Nothing else, 
 whether in heaven above or the earth be- 
 neath. 
 
 Do you say, " There is the Holy Spirit ; 
 He is to sanctify ; He is to guide ; He is to 
 comfort ; I wait for Him to come and revive 
 me" ? Show me — show me — a single 
 evidence that the Holy Spirit ever sanctifies, 
 ever revives, ever makes useful or happy, save 
 through the truth, — the knowledge of the truth, 
 — the knowledge of the "truth as it is in Je- 
 sus,''^ — and your reference to the Spirit will 
 hold good. But, my brother, not till then. 
 
 No ; no. Were you as well taught as Paul 
 in the doctrine of election, or in the doctrine of 
 regeneration, or in the doctrine of the Holy 
 Spirit's agency, or in the nature and necessity 
 of personal holiness, or in the terrors of a 
 broken Law, — the blessings which I have 
 
138 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 specified cannot accrue to you in their fulness, 
 and some of them not at all, unless you maintain 
 an intimate, endearing knowledge of Christ. 
 They cannot be yours unless, like Paul, you 
 make all these doctrines your conductors to 
 the cross, your interpreters of Jesus. 
 
 How easy it is, now, to discern the great 
 and lamentable cause of the deficiencies of 
 Christian experience, — ignorance of Jesus 
 Christ. It is this — which makes Christians 
 tire in their course. It is this — which clogs 
 their feet. It is this — which makes them reel 
 and fall and go to sleep. It makes them heavy- 
 hearted, and unsteady, and faint, and fearful, 
 and desponding, and worldly-minded. It betrays 
 them into by-paths. It clouds their hopes. It 
 silences their songs. It unbalances their graces. 
 It unnerves their arms. It makes them false 
 witnesses of the grace of God. It withers all 
 those beauties and blessings which the knowl- 
 edge of Christ imparts. It is not the world 
 that does all this. It is not the adversary. 
 No. It is ignorance of Christ. Were lie in 
 lively remembrance in their hearts daily; if 
 they did but keep his excellence imaged upon 
 the mirror of their affections; think you they 
 would be entrapped by a paltry world ? think 
 you they would not resist the Devil? think you 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 139 
 
 they would not keep chains and fetters upon 
 indwelling sin ? think you they would go 
 mourning all the day ? 
 
 I have known two aged Christians. They 
 had passed their threescore years and ten, and 
 most of that time they had worn the badge 
 of Christ. Of their Christian histories I can- 
 not testify, but in one particular. One has 
 fallen asleep in Jesus. The other still lingers 
 here, — I doubt not because she must yet learn 
 more of Christ ere she will be meet for heaven. 
 She who died, stood for a long time upon the 
 brink of Jordan ; expecting the coming of her 
 ministering angels. She seemed to understand 
 well those words, — "O death I where is thy 
 sting? O gravel where is thy victory?" 
 And what gave her courage and peace ? 
 What strengthened her so long under the very 
 shadow of dissolution ? It was her knowl- 
 edge of Christ. Her eye and heart were filled 
 with him. Her tongue could speak his name, 
 and talk of his love, and utter his promises, 
 and mention his cross. That — was the secret 
 of her serenity. It solved the mystery of her 
 peaceful departure. 
 
 The other has been starved, her whole life, 
 upon polemic divinity. She has hung upon 
 the skirts of every battle which has been fought 
 
 10 
 
140 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 between religious partisans for half a century. 
 She has been filled with " free agency," and 
 "decrees,*' and '^ Trinity," and "baptism," and 
 " terms of communion " ; while scarce a crumb 
 has fallen to her from the table of Christ; 
 scarce a ray has she caught from his glory. 
 And now there she stands upon the brink of 
 the river, shivering and fearing to depart, — be- 
 cause she sees not and feels not the presence 
 and fulness of Christ. 
 
 Brother in Christ, the bones of many such 
 a disciple are mementos of the sad results of 
 ignorance of Christ. They are bleaching bea- 
 cons for your warning. Had they tongues, 
 every one of them would cry out to confirm 
 the truth which I have tried to illustrate. 
 
 Nay more, my brother. The names of 
 many of your own generation have been hung 
 up before you on the scroll of infamy. The 
 ministers at the altar have fallen. And the 
 warning has been rung in your ears and mine, 
 from amid the noise and consternation of their 
 apostasy, — " Count all things loss, — count all 
 things loss, — for the excellency of the knowl- 
 edge of Christ Jesus your Lord." 
 
 Progression is as much a law of spiritual as 
 of animal life. The oak does not burst with 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 141 
 
 a sudden explosion from the acorn. The 
 flower does not expand itself forthwith from 
 the parent seed. The lark does not burst from 
 its shell, and fly up toward heaven all fledged 
 and strong, piping its clear melody, at once, xo 
 God. The man does not leap up from his 
 swaddling-clothes, passing with one convulsive 
 stride from weak and whining infancy to the 
 full glory of bearded and muscular maturity. 
 Neither does the child of God leap up at once 
 to the fulness of the stature of perfection in 
 Christ Jesus. He also is first a babe ; then, 
 a child ; then, step by step, a full-grown man. 
 It is so with Christian knowledge. It is so 
 with the knowledge of Christ. It would be 
 more rational to suppose that the mind of a 
 young pupil could at once stride from the 
 multiplication-table to all the mysteries and 
 involutions of the higher mathematics, than to 
 suppose that he whose spiritual eye is but just 
 opened can comprehend at a glance all the 
 glory of Him who hath "set down with the 
 Father on his throne " ; before whom angels 
 bow^ and seraphs cover their faces. 
 
 " The bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride." 
 He has much to tell you about the pearl 
 which he has found and won. He thinks — 
 poor man — that he knows the worth of his 
 
142 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 treasure now. But go to him when the cares 
 and the checkered alternations of life have fur- 
 rowed his cheek and bared his brow and 
 bleached his locks. Go to him when he has 
 tested the wife of his youth through joys and 
 through troubles ; when he has drunk deep at 
 the fountain of her sympathy, and seen her 
 constancy unharmed in many a furnace ; — 
 and he will laugh at the simplicity and boast- 
 ing and praises of his bridal days. He will 
 tell you, that he knew not whereof he affirmed 
 in the times of his first exultation. He will 
 tell you, that, — though time has worn out 
 youth, and cares have faded beauty, — yet 
 time and cares both have brought to light 
 many a better grace, and bound many a dearer 
 cord of union about him and the wife of his 
 bosom. 
 
 So it is with the Christian in his discovery 
 of the fulness of Christ. In the day of his 
 espousal he thinks that he knows his treasure. 
 Something of it he does know. Something of 
 it he does feel. It is indeed Christ upon whom 
 he leans. It is indeed his voice that he hears. 
 It is indeed of his beauty and loveliness that 
 he is enamored. I say, — he thinks that he 
 knows his Saviour. Bat, O, how little he 
 knows ! Go to him when years of fellowship 
 
THE KNOAVLEDGE OF CHRIST. 143 
 
 and sympathy have taught him wisdom ; 
 when he has tested the constancy of Christ 
 through many a sea of trouble ; when he has 
 sat at the feet of Christ and studied his glory 
 through many a storm. Go to him when he 
 has almost passed over the journey of his pil- 
 grimage ; and he will smile at the remem- 
 brance of his spiritual infancy, — not because 
 his knowledge of Christ was then untrue or 
 insipid, but because he thovg-hf,, in his un- 
 fledged youth, that he understood the excel- 
 lence of Christ. True, in his spiritual child- 
 hood the knowledge of Christ was reviving 
 and clear. Yet he will speak of it now as 
 only the knowledge of his spiritual alphabet ; 
 as the A B C of his Christian wisdom. 
 
 The love of a young disciple is like a stream 
 at its fountain-head. True, it goes down 
 the mountain-side by leaps. It laughs, and 
 sparkles, and babbles in the sunshine, like a 
 thing of perfect life and gladness. But it has 
 not half the depth, nor breadth, nor speed, nor 
 power, as when it has reached the valley ; as 
 when it has taken tributary waters to its 
 bosom ; as when it flows noiselessly along, 
 clothing a thousand meadows and hamlets 
 with verdure and fatness. So, I say, is the 
 love of a Christian for Christ; buoyant and 
 
144 THE Kx\0\VLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 sprightly in its youth, but mighty and large and 
 rich its manhood. And the secret of its in- 
 crease is this, — that in its youth the kiioivU 
 edge of Christ was comparatively small ; in 
 manhood, that knowledge has miultiplied a 
 thousand-fold. 
 
 It being true, then, that love to Christ is 
 progressive, and that the knowledge of Christ 
 (which is the aliment of that love) is progres- 
 sive also, it is an interesting point of inquiry, 
 by what means this knowledge may be in- 
 creased. 
 
 Evidently it must be by means of effort. 
 We must take pains to grow in the knowledge 
 of Christ, as well as to grow in any other 
 knowledge. Mere wishing and sighing for it 
 will not bring it. Mere rifourning over our ig- 
 norance will not bring it. Why is it, that the 
 schoolboy, with all his drilling, is sometimes a 
 bungling stammerer over his book ? Does he 
 not ivish to read ? to read with ease ? to. read 
 with accuracy ? Certainly he does. But he 
 hates tlie cost. He wants a royal road to 
 knowledge. He wants to dodge the toil. Of 
 course^ he is a bungler. Why is it that the 
 man of strong health and strong sinews is 
 poor ; his wife in rags, his children hungry ? 
 Does he not wish to have the means of liveli- 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 145 
 
 hood ? Does he not ivish for wealth ? Does 
 he not mourn over his poverty ? Does he not 
 sincerely sigh for a better lot ? Most certainly 
 he does. But he hates the cost, the toil of 
 wealth. He loves to turn himself in his bed 
 and cry, " A little more sleep, — a little more 
 sleep." He loves to lounge at the corners of 
 the streets. Of course^ he is poor. Of course, 
 — although he has health and strength. Of 
 course, — although both neighbor and nature 
 would pay as good bounty for his labor as for 
 that of others. 
 
 It is a law which God has established, that 
 blessings shall come by price. He who would 
 eat must work. He who would be rich must 
 work. He who would be well versed in nat- 
 ural science must study. And so, he who 
 would be proficient in religious knowledge — 
 in the knowledge of Christ — must labor for 
 it. The alternative is before him ; either be 
 indolent and take the consequences of an un- 
 happy and shameful ignorance, or be diligent 
 in the study of Christ and reap the blessed re- 
 wards of his knowledge. There is no other 
 course. Wishing' for piety, and enjoyment, 
 and consistency, and peace, will never bring 
 them. Wishing for a familiar knowledge of 
 the fulness and grace of Christ will never. 
 
146 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 bring it, nor those its blissful fruits. Never 
 Never. Mourning over your religious igno- 
 rance, my brother, and over the bitter conse- 
 quences of that ignorance, — I grant it may be 
 sincere and hearty, — but it will never mend 
 matters with you. Ten thousand sluggish 
 tears, and sighs, and groans, will never draw 
 down upon you one beam of light, — one 
 smile, — one sweet manifestation, — from the 
 face of Jesus Christ. Never. Never. 
 
 There are schools where you may be taught 
 of Christ. There are " instructors in Christ." 
 Do you ever take pains to watch the events of 
 providence ? Do you ever piously, seriously, 
 earnestly, count over the blessings of your life, 
 and its afflictions ? Do you ever notice obsta- 
 cles which sometimes spring up to keep you 
 from sin and temptation ? Do you ever dwell 
 upon the truth that the hand of your Redeemer 
 is in all these things ? and his loving-kindness ? 
 and his grace ? Do you ever sit down to look 
 at them, and admire them, and enjoy them, as 
 fruits of his sufferings, as the purchases of his 
 blood ? • Do you ever thus hear and regard 
 their sweet testimony of Jesus? If you do 
 not, no wonder if you are ignorant of Christ as 
 they declare him ; no wonder if you do not 
 find daily teachers of his grace in the events 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 147 
 
 of your life ; no wonder if you do not g-row in 
 the knowledge of Christ. You ought to sit 
 and hearken to the whisperings of his Provi- 
 dence ; to the music of his works and deeds. 
 This you ought to do, if you would learn Him 
 who loved you and died for you. This you 
 ought to do if you would reap the precious 
 fruits which grow upon the tree of the knowl- 
 edge of Christ. 
 
 Do you ever take pains to study the testi- 
 mony of Scripture concerning Christ ? I do 
 not ask you if you read your Bible. Do you 
 search^itl eagerly? prayerfully? habitually? 
 Do you se'arch out Christ in it? O, how fully 
 the Scriptures testify of Him I Precious words 
 there about his love ; about his value ; about 
 his power; about his blood! Every doctrine 
 speaks of him ; every prophecy ; every type 
 and shadow ; every historical fact, from the 
 creation to the destruction of the holy city. 
 There are a thousand tongues there which 
 make melody in praise of Jesus. Brother, are 
 you wont to go and hear their music ? Are 
 you wont to go and hear until your heart is 
 touched and fired, and your own tongue im- 
 pelled to join the chorus ? If not, I do not 
 wonder if you are ignorant of Christ. I do 
 not wonder if you are barren and unfruit 
 
148 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 fill and joyless. It must be so. It must 
 be so. 
 
 Do you love the sanctuary ? Do you love 
 the assemblies of his saints ? Do you love to 
 go wherever Christ's name is uttered and his 
 goodness explained ? Do you g'O ? Do you 
 hear? Do you watch and strive there to leai'n 
 something of Christ ? Brother, it hath pleased 
 God to give efficacy to preaching, yea, to "the 
 foolishness of preaching." It hath pleased 
 Christ to manifest himself in the assemblies of 
 his saints ; even where but two or three are 
 gathered together in his name. And if you 
 lightly esteem, and needlessly slight these 
 means of grace, I do not wonder at your ig- 
 norance, and your barrenness, your feeble faith, 
 your half-expiring love. A coal of fire will g-o 
 out if alone. It will burn brighter and brighter 
 with others. And your joy and light and fer- 
 vor will go out without the aliment of Chris- 
 tian fellowship. Do you say that you lightly 
 esteem these means of grace because you have 
 but little spirituality ? Nay, nay, the other 
 way. You have little spirituality because you 
 lightly esteem these means of grace ; because 
 you do not prize them and use them as teach- 
 ers of Jesus. 
 
 Do you, or do you not, keep Christ's words ? 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 149 
 
 One of his disciples once said to him, when on 
 earth, '•• Lord, how is it that thou wilt mani- 
 fest thyself unto us, and not unto the world ? 
 Jesus answered and said unto him, If a man 
 love me, he will keep my words," — and Christ's 
 words concern the sanctuary, the Scriptures, 
 the government of his hands, and our daily 
 life in all things ; — "he will keep my words, 
 and my Father will love him, and we will 
 come unto him, and make our abode with 
 him." 
 
 And how is it with your closet ? There 
 Jesus manifests himself peculiarly. It is in 
 the hour of secret appeal, when the business 
 and friends of the world are excluded, in the 
 hour when we cast ourselves upon his love, 
 when we lay the secrets of our hearts before 
 him with affectionate and trustful ingenuous- 
 ness, that Christ most preciously manifests 
 and communicates himself. Not by visible 
 presence, not by audible voice, but by awaking 
 us to new and fresh perceptions of himself, by 
 bringing into conscious and vigorous vibration 
 those cords of endearment which subsist be- 
 tween himself and us ; as verilv and as efl'ectu- 
 ally as if by vision or by speech. The actual 
 sympathy, the active communion, between 
 Christ and his beloved here in no ivise depend 
 
150 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRiyT. 
 
 upon organs of sense. The spirit of Christ, 
 and the spirit of his closet-worshipper, are as 
 free of sense as though the one had no glorified 
 body, and the other no fleshly. The hour of 
 their exclusive spiritual intercourse is one of 
 spiritual and real interchange. The disciple 
 expounds himself to Christ, and Christ to the 
 disciple. The weak goes thence strengthened; 
 the timid, emboldened ; the wavering, believ- 
 ing ; the afflicted, consoled ; the desolate, con- 
 scious of a Friend ; — each acquisition being 
 the result of new and timely perceptions of 
 Christ, and each perception the result of his 
 direct manifestation. Such has ever been 
 Christian experience ; and such ever will be. 
 There must you go ; thus must you deport 
 yourself, if you would grow in the knowledge 
 of your Saviour ; if you would gather the 
 most richly of " the true bread from heaven." 
 
 Do YOU ? 
 
 Do you ever, or never, give up business or 
 diversion or ease for the sake of going to the 
 closet, to the sanctuary, to the more private 
 fellowship of Christ's people ; for the sake of 
 using any and every means which can increase 
 your knowledge of your Redeemer ? How is 
 it ? If you do not, is Christ to you " the chief- 
 est among ten thousand," the one " altogether 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHJIIST. 151 
 
 lovely " ? And if he is not, are you his ? And 
 if you are not his, are you safe ? Is your hope 
 good ? Will it anchor you in the day of your 
 dissolution ? 
 
 By your obligations to glorify the Lord, — 
 by the brevity and value of your life, — I be- 
 seech you to know Christ more, and more, 
 and more. Study him. Use the means — all 
 the means — of searching his "unsearchable 
 riches." Otherwise you will not be a growing, 
 happy Christian ; you will not meet your ob- 
 ligations to Christ, your precious Saviour. If 
 the knowledge of Christ is the charm of heaven, 
 it is the ch^rm of the Christian on earth. If 
 this is the secret of the Church's holiness, of 
 its harmony, of its fellowship there, it is the 
 secret of its holiness, and happiness, and fel- 
 lowship here. " Grace and peace" must "be 
 multiplied unto you through the knowledge of 
 God and of Jesus our Lord." 
 
 I am aware that I have given but an out- 
 line of this subject. I am aware that I have 
 not fully done even this. I am aware that 1 
 have not noticed the fundamental truth, that 
 this knowledge of Christ is itself the constituent 
 element of eternal life ; that I have not at- 
 tempted to illustrate the declaration of our 
 
152 THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 
 
 Saviour, " This is Life eternal, that they migh^ 
 knoiu thee the only true God, and Jesus Chris\ 
 whom thou hast sent " ; neither that signincan* 
 word of the prophet, " By his knoivledge shah 
 my righteous servant justify many." What I 
 have said is but suggestive, and feebly sug- 
 gestive. But will you, my Christian brother, 
 seize upon whatever of truth I have sketched, 
 and use it as a stimulant to your own heart ? 
 As you lay aside this little volume, will you 
 retain in your memory, and cherish for prayer- 
 ful meditation, " the ki^owledge of Christ" in 
 all its phases and bearings ? If you will, I 
 shall have been his instrument for your profit, 
 to your joy, to your usefulness, to your greater 
 measure of spiritual Life. If you will, my ob- 
 ject is attained. To nothing higher do I here- 
 in aspire. I point you to Christ. I commend 
 him to you. I commend you to him. I 
 leave you at his feet, for his fellowship. 1 
 would also " bow my knees unto the Father 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ, of whom the whole 
 family in heaven and earth is named, that he 
 would grant you according to the riches of his 
 glory, to be strengthened with might by his- 
 Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell 
 in your heart by faith ; that, being rooted and 
 grounded in love, you may be able to compre- 
 
THE KNOWLEDGE OF CHRIST. 153 
 
 hend, with all saints, what is the breadth, and 
 length, and depth, and height ; and to know 
 the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, 
 that you may be filled with all the fulness of 
 God.'' 
 
THE WEALTH OF THE BELIEVER. 
 
 Did I wish to laugh to scorn the creed of 
 Christians, I would not point to the doctrines 
 of miracles and everlasting perdition. I would 
 not point to the twofold nature of Christ, as 
 metaphysically absurd ; nor to the unmixed 
 humanity of Christ, as involving the Scriptures 
 in self-contradiction ; nor to vicarious atone- 
 ment, as grossly inconsistent with Divine jus- 
 tice; nor to the sufferings, ivithout atonement, 
 of one who knew no sin, as doublij inconsistent 
 with justice. I would simply point to these 
 words of Paul, addressed to his contempora- 
 ries at Corinth, " All things are yoursP 
 
 Compare this with other assertions of the 
 Bible. Where any thing else so startling, so 
 staggering to faith ? Not only the Son given 
 as a sacrifice for the guilty, as a Redeemer of 
 the lost, but " all things " else beside I Not 
 only the greatest, but the greatest and the 
 least ! Not only the choicest gem in the coffer, 
 not the priceless, peerless treasure only, but 
 the coffer itself and all its stores I Not only 
 
THE BELIEVERS WEALTH. 155 
 
 bounty without similitude, but bounty without 
 measure and without end ! 
 
 And yet as Christians we would point to 
 these same words with exultation. We would 
 point to this wondrous heirship and say, " Here 
 is brilliance which seems like heaven's ; here is 
 bounty which looks like God's. If you would 
 know what He is in whom we trust; if you 
 would know the boundless grace in which we 
 rejoice ; if you would know the portion which 
 we choose ; man of doubts, of little faith, look 
 here. Look at this charter of our inheritance, 
 and tell us who is a God like unto our 
 God." 
 
 Yes ; it needs a towering faith to receive 
 this assurance as a very truth. It needs an 
 eye which can bear a dazzling glory, to survey 
 it. But when received and when surveyed, it 
 becomes a precious and peculiar tie between 
 the soul and God. It is so great that it is 
 hardly to be believed ; and yet because it is so 
 great, it is beyond value to the believer. It is 
 so vast and so full of splendor, that it may 
 confound the sceptic. But the Christian sees 
 in its very brightness and vastness the impress, 
 the seal, the signature of God ; and holds it, 
 and believes it, and glories in it, because it 
 is so full of God-like richness and God-like 
 grace. 
 
156 THE believer's wealth. 
 
 " They are not all Israel which are of Israel ; 
 neither because they are the seed of Abraham 
 are they all children." " He is not a Jew who 
 is one outwardly ; neither is that circumcision 
 which is outward in the flesh ; but he is a Jew 
 who is one inwardly, and circumcision is that 
 of the heart, in the spirit and not in the letter." 
 So they are not all Christ's who are of Christ. 
 Many adopt his name ; many wear his badge ; 
 many speak his language, — who are not his. 
 Who, then, are his ? Who belong to him ? 
 Who are his people ? What is it to be 
 Christ's? 
 
 Suppose we adopt the sinful habits of the 
 world, and its sickening and soulless frivolities. 
 We pitch our tents beside its fountains of im- 
 pure pleasure. We leap amid its eddies of 
 delirious and noisy mirth. We put the cup 
 to our neighbor's lips and wring out to the 
 wife of his youth its dregs of wormwood and 
 gall. Is this being Christ''s? Why! Jesus 
 Christ says, " Follow me." Is this treading 
 w^here he has trodden ? Are the prints of his 
 footsteps — here ? Where ? And if we do 
 not " follow " Christ, are we his ? 
 
 But suppose less. We are habitually neg- 
 lectful of spiritual duties. We are not wont 
 to praise and honor God before men. We 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 157 
 
 have no dear communion with him. We 
 have no altar where we burn the sweet in- 
 cense of secret devotion. Is this being Christ's ? 
 Is this following his steps ? — his steps who 
 shaped^his life and bore his cross for the honor 
 of his Father ? And if we do not " follow " 
 him, are we Christ's ? 
 
 But suppose still less. We are habitually 
 neglectful of moral duties. We give no oil 
 and no wine and no place of rest to him who 
 has been wounded by thieves. We have no 
 ministrations for the sick ; no bounty for the 
 poor ; no good sympathy for the afflicted and 
 bereaved. We are rough, or uncourteous, or 
 repulsive in our ordinary transactions. We 
 are harsh, or selfish, or sullen, at our homes. 
 We ruffle the temper, we disturb the peace, of 
 friends, of children, of parents, or we thwart 
 their plans for enjoyment or duty. I ask, Is 
 this treading in the steps of Christ ? I ask. 
 Is this " following " him ? Is this being his ? 
 No. No. " If we have not the spirit of Christ, 
 we are none of his." We cannot serve two 
 masters. We cannot serve God and Mam- 
 mon. We cannot be Belial's and Christ's. 
 If we are the world's in our habits ; if we are 
 the world's in despising the honor and fellow- 
 ship of God ; if we are the world's in our dis- 
 
158 THE believer's wealth. 
 
 positions, then we are not Christ's. We may 
 be, we are, we must be, his, just as "every 
 beast of the forest is his, and the cattle upon a 
 thousand hills " ; but we are not his chosen 
 ones, — his beloved, — his espoused. 
 
 (What, then, is it to be Christ's ? It is this. 
 To live for him. To be his property in the 
 best sense ; his devoted ones. To be his by 
 oath, by covenant, by service. To " present 
 ourselves a living sacrifice," — body, — soul, — 
 all, — to Christ. To write his name upon ev- 
 ery power and upon every member. To bring 
 the outward life and the inward spirit to his 
 baptism. To open the eye and the heart to 
 the touching testimonials of his love, to the 
 exciting beauties of his face, to the enlivening 
 glories of his Divine grace ; till the outburst- 
 ing tribute of the soul shall be, " Here, Lord, I 
 give myself away." It is to have toward 
 Christ such a spirit that " none of us liveth to 
 himself, and no man dieth to himself" ; that 
 " whether we live, we live unto the Lord, and 
 whether we die, we die unto the Lord" ; that 
 " whether we live, therefore, or die " hereby, — 
 herein, — " we are the Lord's,^^ 
 
 Who, then, are devoted to Christ? Who 
 have the spirit of entire consecration to their 
 Lord ? Who are striving to mould their out- 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 159 
 
 ward deeds, their speech, their habits, their in- 
 ward dispositions, after the pattern of Christ ? 
 Whoever they are, — although their steps are 
 feeble, — although their garments are not yet 
 purged to perfect whiteness, — although you 
 may detect many a blemish in their deport- 
 ment, — yet, having this spirit of devotedness 
 to Christ, they are hereby his. Yes ; and if 
 Christ's, then "joint heirs with Christ." If 
 Christ's, then heirs with him who is " heir of 
 all things." These are they to whom all 
 wealth is given. These are they to whom all 
 things are wealth. So says the inspired writer, 
 " All things are yours ; whether Paul, or Apol- 
 los, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, 
 or things present, or things to come, — all are 
 yours." And who are they ? " And ye are 
 Chrisfs:' 
 
 But are all things property to those who are 
 Christ's ? — the ministry, with its blemishes, its 
 strifes, and its defections ? as well as the min- 
 istry with its graces, its eloquence, and its 
 piety ? Are all things their property ? Have 
 they wealth in all things, even in the world 
 with its scorn and its hatred ? in life with its 
 wants, its unceasing fluctuations, and its 
 plagues ? in death with its unreported terrors ? 
 in things present, in gold, in silver, in luxury. 
 
160 THE believer's WEALTH. 
 
 in the unceasing tide of events which is rolling 
 on from year to year? in things to come, — in 
 the dreadful doom of judgment as well as in 
 its acquittal ? in hell as well as in heaven ? 
 
 Yes ; property in all. Yes, every thing that 
 now is, is tributary to their profit ; and every 
 thing that is to come, shall be. Every thing 
 — willing or unwilling, high or low, good or 
 bad — is moved and removed, and lives and 
 grows and acts and ceases, for their highest 
 and purest bliss. Every thing is theirs and is 
 laboring for their good ; and every thing, with- 
 out exception, shall ; and none can hinder it. 
 Yes ; in the very ragings of a troubled world ; 
 in the most fearful shapes' of depravity you 
 can name ; in the noisy surgings of the lake 
 of woe; they have ministering servants, — 
 property, — more, better, richer, surer property, 
 ye men of earthly pleasures and earthly riches, 
 than ye have in your mirth and laughter, in 
 your merchandise and gold. 
 
 All things are theirs ; not in their possession^ 
 but in their service ; r\ot controlled by them, 
 but controlled for them. Paul and Apollos, 
 and Cephas and Judas ; the whole line of the 
 ministry, good and bad, true and false ; sin- 
 cere men and hypocrites ; saints and cast- 
 aways ; have not touched a single spring of 
 
161 
 
 influence, — have not set in motion a single 
 train of events, — without bringing blessings 
 upon those who are Christ's. All things are 
 in the hand of their Lord. " Unto the Son, all 
 things are delivered of the Father." And he 
 shall overrule all and overturn all, so that, in 
 every event and by every agent, the purposes 
 of God shall be accomplished, and the glory of 
 God — without a shade, without a veil, with- 
 out a cloud — shall be revealed. 
 
 What are the chief desires of those who are 
 Christ's ? Those which were, and ever will 
 be, his, — " that the Father may be glorified in 
 the Son"^; that " they may behold his glory '^ ; 
 that they may be purged clean without spot 
 or blemish. And he who overrules and over- 
 turns, — he who holds the winds and the seas 
 and thoughts and hearts and all things, — shall 
 guide and govern all for the accomplishment 
 of these objects. 
 
 Thus every influence of the ministry ; and 
 every wave, and burden, and bubble upon the 
 tide of time ; every object ; every form of sin, 
 and every trophy of grace ; every day of sun- 
 shine, and every night of storm ; every minis- 
 tration of affliction, and every one of pros- 
 perity, — shall all serve for the full development 
 of our Redeemer's glory, and for the prepara- 
 
162 THE believer's wealth. 
 
 tion of his people for his courts. The men of 
 the world are thus overruled and overturned. 
 Their schemes, their wisdom, their enterprise, 
 their opposition to the truth, their silver and 
 their gold, their rise and their fall, their birth 
 and their death, and their perdition, — are all 
 but make-weights in the balances of God's 
 purposes. In each, and in the use of each, and 
 in the remotest influence of each, is a prepara- 
 tion-work for the coming of his kingdom ; a 
 purifying work upon the hearts of his people ; 
 and a key to the unsearchable riches of his ex- 
 cellence. They are '^ hewers of wood and 
 drawers of water for the house of the Lord." 
 They polish and arrange the members of his 
 spiritual temple, — unwittingly, unwillingly ; 
 but verily and perfectly. And even in the 
 death of the body and the death of the soul, 
 they unveil the brilliant mystery both of Grace 
 and of Justice. 
 
 So, too, are the life and the death of the 
 Christian himself overturned and overruled. 
 Every particular of comfort and of trial, of 
 conflict and deliverance, of hope and darkness, 
 of poverty and abundance ; every buffeting of 
 Satan ; every thorn in the flesh ; the time, the 
 place, the particulars of his dissolution ; all are 
 made tributary to the same ends, — the perfec- 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 163 
 
 tion of the soul, the spread of the Gospel, and 
 the display of God's glory. 
 
 So, too, with things present. The rise and 
 fall of ennpires ; the strifes and cruelties of 
 men ; every thing which transpires from the 
 rising to the setting sun ; each is made to 
 give in its contribution to the same great 
 ends. 
 
 And so with things to come. In the de- 
 struction of the world ; in the resurrection of 
 the dead ; in the decisions of the judgment ; 
 in the bliss of heaven, and in the hopeless woe 
 of hell ; in pardon and in condemnation ; in 
 each shall be a fresh and distinct and peculiar 
 development of the boundless glory of God. 
 In each, and by each, shall " the Father be 
 glorified in the Son." 
 
 See now the bearing of these things upon 
 those who are Christ's. See how all things 
 are theirs. See how all things are bringing 
 tributary offerings to their feet. See how all 
 things, and all events, and all men, and all 
 eternity, are their ministering servants. Every 
 thing is fulfilling the desires of their hearts. 
 Every thing is working for that which is their 
 pleasure. Every one is giving impulse to the 
 operations of grace. Every one hereafter shall 
 reveal the story of its influence. Every story 
 
164 THE believer's wealth. 
 
 shall reveal Redeeming Love. Every new dis- 
 closure of Kedeeming Love shall give new 
 rapture to the admiring, adoring saint. Thus 
 every thing is ministering to his blessedness. 
 Every thing is culturing the vintage which he 
 shall pluck in heaven. Every thing is making 
 ready the cluster and the cup for his banquet 
 in the Father's kingdom. Every thing is pre- 
 paring him for his inheritance ; and his inher- 
 itance for him. 
 
 O ye men of worldly hopes ! do you de- 
 spise the Christian ? Do you look upon his 
 lot as pitiful, because he is a man of secret 
 burdens and many imperfections ? because he 
 denies himself where you give the rein to in- 
 dulgence ? because he passes by the fountains 
 of pleasure at which you drink to fulness and 
 satiety? Look at his boundless, endless her- 
 itage. Look at the inventory of his limitless 
 po'ssessions. Look ! it covers all things. It 
 covers you — and yours. Are you rich ? Your 
 silver and your gold are — his. Are you free, 
 and do you boast of liberty ? Your bodies are 
 — his. Your souls are — his. Your very mem- 
 bers and thoughts, your hearts, your passions, 
 the noontide of your lives, the heyday of your 
 prosperity, the gathering twilight of your de- 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 165 
 
 dining sun, the coming darkness of your star- 
 less midnight, all — ail — are his. In each 
 there is, or is to be, some disclosure of those 
 depths of Grace or Justice which are the sea 
 of his enjoyments, the light and the life of his 
 heaven. You are bringing sheaves into his 
 storehouse. You are paying tribute-money into 
 his treasury. Your very pride, your scorn, 
 your jest, your cutting accusations of incon- 
 sistency, are the smelting-furnace of his spirit. 
 They are the fire and the fuel with which 
 his Purifier is purging out his dross to bring 
 him to the brilliant splendor and the beauteous 
 pureness of the virgin silver. It is not His 
 will that any one of all such shall perish. 
 They are in his keeping in the midst of their 
 troubles. It is his will, that all things shall 
 be theirs ; you, — yours, — your life, with its 
 every word, and deed, and influence ; your 
 death with its every terror ; and your eternity, 
 — if ye go there, what ye now are, the servants 
 of the world, — your eternity, with its every 
 woe. 
 
 Such is the wealth of those who are Christ's. 
 It is wealth beyond computation, — without 
 limit and without exhaustion. It is theirs by 
 covenant ; theirs by oath ; theirs to-day ; and 
 
166 THE believer's wealth. 
 
 theirs for ever. It is theirs, for they are Christ's 
 It is theirs, for they are the fruits of his suffer 
 ings, the travail of his soul, and the children 
 of his love. It is theirs, for it is his. It is 
 theirs, for they and he are one ; they in him, 
 and he in them. It is theirs, for his glory is 
 their glory ; his interests are their interests ; 
 and his heirship is their heirship. It is theirs, 
 for as the Father loveth the Son, so the Son 
 loveth them who are his ; and as the Father 
 hath delivered all things unto the Son for his * 
 control and gift, so the Son hath given all 
 things unto them for their present and endless 
 reward. 
 
 Let me state this whole matter in a more 
 concise form. 
 
 All things are devoted to those who are de- 
 voted to the Lord Jesus Christ. If we are his 
 servants, then every object and event is made 
 our servant. If we seek to be productive of 
 his highest ^/or?/, then he seeks to »iaA;e every 
 thing.productive of our highest enjoyment ; and 
 every thing is so, in very deed ; every thing 
 without exception ; every thing great and 
 small, good and evil, past, present, and to 
 come, spiritual and temporal, here and there 
 and everywhere. In what other sense all 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 167 
 
 things can be said to belong to those who be- 
 long to Christ, — in what other sense all things 
 can be theirs^ — it is difficult to conceive. If 
 we are indeed Christ's in the best sense, if we 
 were to become his as purely and as steadily 
 as the angels in heaven, — would all things 
 beconie ours in the way of possession; or 
 rather, of control ? How was it with the Co- 
 rinthian church ? They had no control of the 
 wealth of the world, nor of the men of the 
 world, nor of the gifts of the ministry of the 
 Gospel, nor of their own life or death, nor of 
 things present, nor of things to come. Yet all 
 things were theirs. In what sense ? Evident- 
 ly in the only remaining sense, — devoted to 
 them ; their servants ; controlled for them ; 
 overruled each, and all, and evermore, for their 
 best and enduring happiness ; overruled so that, 
 out of every object and every event, something' 
 should be educed tributary, not only to their 
 spiritual perfection^ but to their enjoyment. 
 From every mystery of Divine government, as 
 from a deep sea, should come up for them 
 some beauteous pearl ; from every lurking- 
 place of sin, as from the bowels of a mine, 
 some precious stone ; and from behind every 
 cloud of judgment and retribution, even, some 
 enrapturing form of wondrous glory. 
 
168 THE believer's wealth. 
 
 But to avoid misapprehension of this truth 
 let us look at it a little more closely. 
 
 Jesus Christ as God 7nanifest ; as the only 
 communication or display of the Divine Being ; 
 aside from whom the Divine Excellence is 
 " unapproachable," and un perceivable, and 
 mantled with "clouds and darkness"; — I say, 
 Jesus Christ, as the manifestation of God, is 
 the " bread of Life." He is the aliment of the 
 soul. In other words, the affectionate percep- 
 tion of the excellence of the Godhead shining 
 in him is the only method of happiness for any 
 created soul. To behold clearly and with per- 
 feet love, the fulness of God in the Son — is 
 heaven. Every fresh display of this Divine 
 fulness is an increase of heavenly enjoyment. 
 Every thing which is a means of this display, 
 is a means of new enjoyment to the soul who 
 is beholding that fulness with affection. Now 
 every thing shall be a means of unfolding " the 
 glory of God, as it shines in the face of Jesus 
 Christ." In some way, every thing' shall illus- 
 trate the excellence of God ; every thing shall 
 furnish proof of the goodness of Him who or- 
 ders and overrules every thing. Every thing 
 does so ; so far as it is understood by the crea- 
 ture. Every thing, therefore, being an inter- 
 preter of God's goodness, is a ministering ser- 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 169 
 
 vant to him who loves that goodneps ; and 
 must be ; and shall be ; and shall ever be. 
 And he who is " Christ's," who is devoted to 
 him, does love that boundless goodness shining 
 out in him ; loves it more than all things else. 
 It is his bread. It is his soul's aliment. It is 
 his heaven. Every thing shall interpret to 
 him that goodness. Every thing shall whisper 
 to Jam some moving proof of Christ's glory. 
 Every thing shall be as a cloud to distil upon 
 his table the manna and the dew of spiritual 
 Life, to impart to his soul thrift, and vigor, 
 and enjoyment. 
 
 But — shall he feed and thrive upon the 
 story of men's ivoes from generation to genera- 
 tion ! Shall he delight in the abomination of 
 his own and of others' sins ! Shall the groans 
 and the curses of hell be his gladness I Shall 
 he revel in the smoke of others' torment ! If 
 so, where would be his delight in that God 
 who hateth sin, and hath no pleasure in the 
 death of the sinner? If so, — while God is 
 what he is, — where would be his heaven ? 
 No. No. Impossible. Absurd. 
 
 Yet every thing is a ministering servant to 
 those who are Christ's. In what way, then ? 
 In this way. The terrific things which you 
 find in the history of the world, which you 
 
170 THE BELIEVERS WEALTH. 
 
 will find in the woes of hereafter, — without 
 bating one jot of their terrors, without waking 
 one pulsation of pride or exultation or brutal 
 passion, — will so interpret God^ will so unfold 
 Ins holiness^ will so lay open the unfathomed 
 depths of his glory, that they who are Christ's 
 shall be taught the more fully of the glories of 
 their Redeemer by every tale of terror, by ev- 
 ery bellowing wave of retribution, by every 
 ebb and flow of depravity. There is no de- 
 light for them in others' guilt or woe. All 
 their delight, and all their heaven, is — God 
 slmiing^ forth in Christ ; God interpreted by 
 every terror as truly and as clearly as by every 
 blessing. Thus it is that, to Christ's people, 
 all things yield enjoyment ; not as beauteous 
 or delightful in themselves always, but as inter' 
 preters of God; as giving explanation or illus- 
 tration, in some way, of that most wondrous 
 Divine glory, — the work of Redemption by 
 the Son. 
 
 In this wealth of the believer, what Grace ! 
 Here is the Grace of God going out in one 
 ceaseless flow ; expanding into one vast and 
 beautiful ocean without a shore. O, it is all 
 grace ! it is all grace ! Look at it ; look at it, 
 Christian believer ; look at it and adore. If 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 171 
 
 you are Christ's, — and, if a believer in him, 
 you are, — if you have in sincerity brought 
 yourself to his baptism ; if you are trying to 
 use your time and your privileges and your 
 talents in his service, — then "all things are 
 yours " ; pledged to you ; given to you ; made 
 and shaped and overruled to be tributaries to 
 your purest and endless enjoyment. Every 
 thing is to become a hewn stone in the fabric 
 of your heavenly mansion ; or a polished jewel 
 in your crown of glory ; or a savory viand in 
 your banquet-house of Love. 
 
 How is it to-day ? When you look upon 
 the verdure of the fields ; when you walk 
 abroad under the bright and gladdening light 
 of the sun ; when you are compassed about 
 by the heavenly stillness and the choice com- 
 forts of successive Sabbaths ; when you see 
 your children, as olive-plants, about your table, 
 clad, and fed, and cared for, and bright with 
 health, and hope, and promise ; wheh you 
 slake your thirst and refresh your spirit at 
 earthly fountains opening and streaming all 
 around you ; and when you pluck the rich 
 lusters of your common bounties, is there not 
 in each, for yov, some foretaste of heaven ? 
 Has not each, for t/ow, a relish unknown to 
 those who know not Christ ? When you 
 
 12 
 
172 THE believer's wealth. 
 
 think of Him who is the Giver; w^hen you 
 look upon them as borne to you by Ids hand, 
 as ministered to you by his love, is it not with 
 subduing and blissful emotions? There — 
 there — you recognize in every beauty and 
 bounty of Nature, in the sacred rest of every 
 Sabbath, in every precious tie of kindred, in 
 short, in eve7'y good thing, something more 
 than its own blessing, and itg own loveliness 
 There, in each, you behold mirrored, and map- 
 ped out, before you the loving-kindness of 
 God. They stir up your heart to gladness, 
 not because of their own richness only, but 
 because in each you have a smile from heaven, 
 — a token of remembrance, — a word of fel- 
 lowship. They gladden you because they are 
 good ; but they gladden you -more because 
 they teach you, and prove to you, the good- 
 ness of God. Each new blessing, and each 
 new day of blessings, gives you a new and 
 deeper 'and clearer insight into his excellence. 
 
 So with the dark and gloomy things of life. 
 "When you think of His overruling power, you 
 can hear, and you do hear, for your peace and 
 comfort, a voice in every tempest, you see a 
 handwriting upon every cloud, — "It is I, — 
 it is I, — be not afraid." And when the wind 
 has passed and the cloud overblown, you have 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 173 
 
 found some spot upon your surrounding land- 
 scape, or upon your wayward heart, which 
 has drunk a blessing; some spot whose bright- 
 ness and newness of life have betokened the 
 goodness of your God. 
 
 And how will it be with you hereafter? 
 Why ! if Paul's words are true, — just so then. 
 No, — not just 'so then. Now — all things 
 show you God so far as you study them and 
 understand them. Then — all things shall 
 show you God in the face of Jesus Christ 
 without fail; for look at all, and understand 
 all, you ivilL Then — all things shall un- 
 fold to you your God and your Saviour, just 
 as some things, in your most precious and 
 heavenly hours, do now. The same work 
 which is wrought in you when the good things 
 of providence, of -the Gospel, and of the cross 
 reveal to you anew the beauties of Christ, and 
 knit your heart to him anew, — the same glad- 
 ness, the same near access to the mercy-seat, 
 the same dearness of communion, — shall 
 hereafter be wrought in you by all things. 
 Yes,- — by all that have been, or are, or are to 
 be. Now — you taste the cup ; then — you 
 shall drink at the fountain. Now — you 
 hear sometimes a solitary note of melody 
 sounding your Redeemer's goodness; but 
 
174 THE believer's wealth. 
 
 then — all things shall blend together in one 
 ceaseless, rapturous chorus to make known his 
 glory. 
 
 Who are ye, — to whom all things shall 
 minister? Who are ye^ — to whom all things 
 shall interpret the glory of your best beloved ? 
 for whose service and bliss all things are en- 
 rolled and enlisted and pledged ? Has never 
 an impure breath ruffled the surface of your 
 spirits ? Have they always imaged the like- 
 ness of your God ? Has never a thought, a 
 wish, a passion, throbbed there, but with the 
 sanction of the Law ? Has never an affection 
 moved with undue, unbalanced, forbidden 
 strength ? Has your best love always been 
 for heaven? for God? Have your lives al- 
 ways been devoted to him ? your bodies ? your 
 souls? Are you deserving of good at his 
 hands, that he has made over to you this store 
 of wealth, — all things ? Deserving ! of good ! 
 What say your consciences ? What said the 
 law when it served as your schoolmaster ? 
 when it taught you its lessons, and gave you 
 experience of its scourgings ? What say you, 
 as you call to remembrance the wormwood 
 and the gall ? What say you, as you look 
 now upon your hearts ? Deserving — of good 
 — at the hands of the Lord ! Deserving — of 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 175 
 
 all this I Why ! brethren beloved, if you and 
 I are Christ's, we were not alvmys his. No, — 
 O, no ! We have thought, and spoken, and 
 felt, and loved, not with deference to the law 
 and the will of God, — but as we have pleased 
 We let the law go. And w^e let God go. 
 We loved pleasures and oar fellow-creatures 
 rather than God. And thus we sold our- 
 selves to sin ; broke the whole law ; became 
 corrupted through and through; stamped, 
 dyed, leavened with sin ; the very opposite of 
 God. And we went on so ; and we went on ; 
 and we would go on; against all the warnings 
 of heaven ; against all the arguments, and ap- 
 peals, and provisions of Redeeming Love ; 
 against ten thousand admonitions and remon- 
 strances of conscience ; against tUe repeated 
 rebukes and strivings of the Holy Spirit. We 
 were " desperately wicked." Are we deserving 
 of good at the hand of the Lord ? Are we 
 deserving of " all things" as our inheritance ? 
 We are deserving enough ; but it is of wrath, 
 not of kindness; of everlasting beggary, not of 
 riches ; of hell, not of heaven. And we have 
 felt this : in our very souls we have been 
 tavght it. We are not deserving of good ; not 
 of the least good ; not of a moment of quie- 
 tude; not of a crumb from the table of provi- 
 
176 THE believer's wealth. 
 
 dence ; not of a drop of refreshing mercy ; not 
 of a ray of hope. 
 
 Yet " all things " are ours. How ? By 
 what means ? By what tenure ? It is of God. 
 It is of grace. It is by the grace of God. It 
 is all of the grace of God. Witness the sins 
 of our lives, — back — back — to childhood. 
 Witness the domineering, lawless corruptions 
 of our hearts. This wealth given to us is of 
 grace in every part and portion, and in every 
 moment of its duration. The vast fabric of 
 our inheritance is written all over, from corner- 
 stone to key-stone, with — " Grace — grace — 
 unto it." And 5W6'A grace ! It is amazing I It 
 is measureless ! It is — matchless ! 
 
 But this is not a dumb doctrine. It speaks. 
 It speaks as with a thousand tongues. It 
 speaks with all the eloquence and emphasis 
 of heaven. It speaks ; and its words are ech- 
 oed from world to world, from congregation 
 to congregation, by every thing that hath life, 
 or form, or name, where the Spirit of God has 
 brooded, or the purpose of God has been 
 known. It calls aloud for our tribute. It calls 
 upon those who are Christ's to make some re- 
 turn to him who has covenanted with them 
 and for them. It is, as it were, the finger of 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 177 
 
 God pointing to the signet-mark upon the 
 charter of Redemption, and to all things that 
 are, and that are to be ; to the magnificence 
 of Divine bounty, to every fluttering hope, and 
 every gushing enjoyment of the Christian's 
 experience, appealing by all and in the name 
 of all to the heir of these riches, and urging 
 him to proper acknowledgments of his infinite 
 obligations. ' 
 
 The wealth bestowed so richly, so freely, 
 upon Christ's people, is reason for their re- 
 joicing. Here indeed is cause for gladness. 
 Here are " durable riches." And here, in this 
 very bestowment, is distinct and surpassing 
 proof of what God is. Here, in this very fact, 
 is a fresh interpreter of God ; gathering the 
 separate testimony of all things into one ; into 
 one focal point of burning and overpowering 
 glory. 
 
 But the doctrine of this rich inheritance ar- 
 gues for something inore than joy. It argues 
 for the tribute unto God of a lowly mind. 
 Should we be puffed up as we look at the 
 largeness and richness of his bounty to us- 
 ward ? Should we be puffed up because he 
 has pledged to us all things ? He has not 
 done it because we are good. He has not 
 done it because we are the least among sin- 
 
178 THE believer's WEALTH. 
 
 iiers. In this bounty there is no proof, no inti* 
 mation of good desert in us. No. Here is 
 grace. Its gJory is — its ^race. Here, then 
 in this bestowment of all things is something 
 which points us, not only to the fulness and 
 glory of God, but to the pollution in which he 
 found us ; to the hole of the pit whence he 
 digged us ; to our low estate and misery, when 
 " by adoption " he made us heirs. " Where 
 is boasting then ? It is excluded"; excluded 
 by that which is the very glory of our inherit- 
 ance, — its g-race. Thus, while we look at 
 its splendor, while we are lost in surveying its 
 wonders, we are forbidden by it to glory save 
 in the Lord. We are commanded and com- 
 pelled b?/ it to bow with self-abasement, while 
 we rejoice in the riches of grace. If these rich- 
 es are ours, and if they are of grace, then our 
 proper place is in the dust ; our proper spirit 
 is that of deep and eternal humility. The 
 moment we look upon this inheritance with 
 an emotion of self-glorying ; the moment we 
 make it an occasion of high looks or haughty 
 thoughts, — we pervert it. It was given in- 
 deed for our enjoyment. But it was also given 
 to make known and magnify, perpetually, the 
 riches of God's grace. And while we look at 
 this gift of " all things," if we do forget the 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 179 
 
 guilt and the beggary in which he found us, 
 we honor neither the gift nor the Giver. And 
 is this a right return when the gift is all grace ? 
 Is Uiiii right, when its grace is its very pecu- 
 liar glory? Why! its purpose, and argument, 
 and very meaning, are all set aside except we 
 see and own our vileness. Shall lue do this ? 
 We who have come (we hope) to such an 
 heirship ! We whom God (we hope) has 
 brought thither ! Shall we ? Can we ? No. 
 We must have our eyes and hearts open 
 always, not only to the splendor and fulness 
 of our inheritance, but to the wonder and 
 glory of its grace ; to the deeds and ill-desert 
 of our fearful and desperate depravity npon 
 which that grace is based and ifpreared. 
 
 But we owe to God another duty in return, 
 — service. We always should have owed 
 him this, had he never pitied, had he never 
 redeemed, had he never sought us. Had he 
 never shed upon us the blessings of his for- 
 bearance, of his tender providence, of his re- 
 straining grace ; had he never given us one 
 token of loving-kindness; we should have 
 owed him entire and eternal service. How 
 much more do we owe it now ! How much 
 more, — when he has pitied, and redeemed, 
 and found, and blessed! O, how much more 
 
ISO THE believer's WEALTH. 
 
 when he has bound us to Christ by renewing 
 grace I How much more when he has bound 
 all things in our service I when he has bidden 
 all things to be our ministers ! when he has 
 opened for us fountains of living waters every- 
 where I 
 
 O my brother in Christ, — look! The ar- 
 gument of this bounty, the pealing argument 
 of all this grace, is for service. Every thing is 
 given to yOu I Yes, — and every thing adjures 
 you to be icholly the Lord's. Shall such boun- 
 ty, shall such grace, be powerless ? You are 
 beholden for steadfast, untiring, and unreserved 
 service ; not for a fitful, sluggish, wavering ef- 
 fort in the service of Christ. You are beholden 
 for vour time, for the vi^or of your bodv, for 
 the vio^or of vour mind, for the fervent love 
 and obedience of your soul. You are told so 
 by the precious truth before us. You are told 
 so by every enjoyment of God which Nature, 
 and Providence, and the Bible, and the Holy 
 Spirit, and your closet, give you. You are 
 told so in the name of every thing which can 
 and shall display God's goodness ; in the 
 name of every thing which is to meet you in 
 heaven as an interpreter of his glory. And 
 will you waver in your love and devotedness 
 to Christ ! AVill you divide your service be- 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 181 
 
 tween him and tiie world ! Will you allow 
 the dross, and the trash, and the lying vanities 
 of life, to make you forget his loveliness and 
 loving-kindness and grace!* 'W'lW you be a 
 stupid, slumbering, dronish disciple ! You ! 
 before whom Christ has placed the sacred 
 pledges of his redeeming, his covenanting, his 
 unchanging love ! w^ritten upon every thing 
 that is, or has been, or shall be ! You ! an 
 heir of God I a "joint heir with Christ"! an 
 heir of " all things " ! You ! only yesterday a 
 beggar, — a sinner, — an heir of death, — a 
 " child of wrath " ! to-day, with the priceless 
 legacy of Almighty Grace in your hand ! " Is 
 this the kind return, are these the thanks, you 
 owe?" Back, — back, — again I say, — look 
 back to your nakedness and to your filthy 
 state before your adoption. Compare what 
 you were, with what you are ; your hope of 
 to-day, with your desert of damnation yester- 
 day ; the curse of your spiritual death, with 
 the blessing of your spiritual resurrection ; the 
 midnight of your condemnation, with your 
 present morning of unclouded grace ! Does 
 all this argue for a partial or a feeble service 
 of your Redeemer ? Is all this a plea or an 
 apology for worldly-mindedness ? 
 
 No. No. In the name of grace^ — in the 
 
182 THE believer's wealth. 
 
 name of that grace which is busy for you ev- 
 erywhere and for ever, which is culturing and 
 culling enjoyments for you upon every spot 
 where God reigneth, — in the name of your 
 hope and your inheritance, — I adjure you be 
 the Lord's wholly, steadily, cheerfully, for ever. 
 This is your duty. This is the argument of 
 the precious truth before you. 
 
 But give him more. Praise him. Speak of 
 his wondrous grace. Sing of his boundless 
 gifts. Be joyful in God, all ye his people ; 
 and let your joy break forth into songs. Let 
 the harp be struck to-day ; for the dayspring 
 of your salvation has already come. Let his 
 name be magnified and his grace be pro- 
 claimed by all who are the Lord's. Let it be 
 done openly, loudly, always. O, give him 
 this ! Surely such grace has claim to such 
 return. Surely goodness and bounty which 
 go out without limit and without end should 
 be sung on earth as well as in heaven. Praise 
 the Lord, then, before all people. Let all men 
 know that you adore him. Never let a blush 
 be found upon your cheek ; never let a denial 
 come up to pollute your lips ; when you are 
 charged with belonging to Jesus of Nazareth. 
 But commend him, praise him, for his grace, 
 for his bounty, for his gifts to you, — a sinner. 
 
THE believer's WEALTH. 183 
 
 It is the least you can do, to praise him with 
 your lips, to praise him by the integrity and 
 holiness of your life. And you are told to do 
 it ; told to, by the broad and sacred and solemn 
 pledges of his outbursting love ; told to, in the 
 very words, " All things are yoursP 
 
 O, look, brother ! The fulness of his grace 
 is mirrored to you everywhere I The tokens 
 of his love are sparkling in every fountain of 
 your earthly relations. They are warming you 
 and gladdening you in every sunbeam. They 
 are smiling to you in every beauty of nature. 
 They are beckoning to you mutely, but elo- 
 quently, in every twinkling star above you. 
 Perhaps you do not hear and see to-day, but 
 you will hereafter. Theyi these things, and 
 other things, and " all things," will come up 
 before you in memory or by revelation ; and 
 they will make heavenly music, each and all, 
 in proof and praise of your Redeemer's kind- 
 ness. Out of every event shall come some- 
 thing to make Mm manifest, and to make you 
 full of heavenly rapture. 
 
 Now, then, with riches pledged to you in 
 "all things," — with all the treasures of your 
 beloved before you as the dowry of your es- 
 pousals, — give him what you can and ought. 
 Give him the beautiful offering of a humble 
 
184 THE believer's WEALTH. 
 
 spirit. Give him constancy in love and service 
 Give him open praise. 
 
 " Praise God, from whom all blessings flow ; 
 Praise him, all creatures here below ; 
 Praise him above, ye heavenly host, — 
 Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost." 
 
X. 
 
 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRIST'S GRACE,— A 
 DUTY. 
 
 Every thing which contributes to our com- 
 fort, whether an intrinsic good, or merely a 
 preventive of evil, is of grace. Are we " born 
 of God" ? Are we enjoying the various privi- 
 leges of adoption ? Do our worldly interests, 
 the institutions of the Gospel, or more direct 
 Divine influences, suppress the fearful tenden- 
 cies of our unrenewed hearts ? Are we cheered 
 by our domestic relations ? Are we fed, and 
 clothed, and sheltered ? Do we enjoy health, 
 and light, and air, and ten thousand objects of 
 sense? Is there any thing — however minute 
 — which exempts us from perfect misery ? In 
 each and all these things we receive " the man- 
 ifold grace of God." To draw a single breath 
 without pain, to experience the meanest sen- 
 sation of fleshly delight, is as truly a matter of 
 Divine grace, as to be " renewed in the spirit 
 of our minds." 
 
 Having sinned, we deserve no blessing. Ev- 
 ery blessing which we do receive is — grace. 
 
186 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 Whether it be spiritual or temporal ; whether 
 special or common ; whether "great or trivial ; 
 it is unmerited, — it is forfeited, — it is of 
 grace. Yet it is commonly understood that 
 grace is concerned only in such blessings as 
 regeneration, sanctification, salvation, and their 
 several accompaniments. Men who talk loud 
 and fervently of grace in these things, are often 
 blind and dumb and dead to it as displayed in 
 the little mercies of every day. They can see 
 its glory in the cross, but do not detect it in 
 the flower, in the dew, in the hour of peaceful 
 repose or social fellowship. To some it would 
 seem frivolous, if not profane, to apply so high 
 an attribute of God to the painting of a flower, 
 to the music of a bird, or to the texture of a 
 garment. Yet it is wrong to confine our idea 
 of God's grace to blessings pertaining to the 
 soul. It is wrong ; for, if it was grace which 
 shone on the cross, if it is grace which is 
 displayed in salvation, then it is grace which 
 shines and speaks, and calls for praise in all 
 the mercies of all the world. 
 
 Men readily acknowledge the more conspic- 
 uous truths of the Bible as articles of credence. 
 They recognize, speculatively at least, the ho- 
 liness and supremacy of God. The believer 
 in Christ apprehends the severity and justice 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 187 
 
 of the Law, and the fulness of the Redeemer, 
 and the grace and glory and value of Redemp- 
 tion, — so far, at least, as the great sacrifice of 
 atonement is concerned ; and he anticipates 
 with cheering hope the heavenly income of 
 that Redemption. But where do you find a 
 man, even among the most devout, who has 
 uncovered, and studied, and revelled in, this 
 truth, that " of the fulness of Jesus Christ 
 have all we received, and grace for grace," i. e. 
 grace upon grace ? How many disciples of 
 Jesus are there who think and feel that they 
 are recipients of "his fulness" in any other 
 way than as joint proprietors of atoning blood, 
 and heirs apparent of a felicitous inheritance ? 
 How many who remember and feel that they 
 receive " of the fulness " of their Redeemer, 
 that they pluck and eat the fruits of his suffer- 
 ings, that they are gladdened and refreshed by 
 the ministrations of his hands, every day and 
 hour and moment ? How many, think you, 
 are there in this wide world, — in this ran- 
 somed world, — who see the footprints of Jesus 
 in their pathway ? who catch the voice of 
 his benediction in the events of their histories ? 
 who discern the impress of his hand, and the 
 badges of his love, and the memorials of his 
 baptism, in all things ? 
 
 13 
 
188 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 Countless, ceaseless, are the gifts of his 
 grace to all the tenants of this world of 
 hope. And countless are the gifts of his grace 
 which are taken, and enjoyed, and eagerly 
 consumed, without a thought of their sacred- 
 ness, or an acknowledgment of their source. 
 They are rich. They are profuse. They are 
 omnipresent. They are, as it were, an innu- 
 merable company of angels, declaring his 
 goodness, unfolding his love, and chanting his 
 praises, to whose voices scarcely an ear is 
 turned or a tongue responds. 
 
 Is this right ? Do we quit ourselves of duty 
 when we overlook and slight an evidence, a 
 fruit, or a memorial of Redeeming Love ? Is 
 it right to slight the testimony of Jesus in the 
 Bible ? Is it right to disregard the fountain of 
 Redeeming blood ? Is it right to turn our 
 backs upon the sacramental board ? Where, 
 and what, is the gift of Christ, — where, and 
 what, is that one thing, great or small, which 
 comes to us in his name and from his hand, 
 yet deserves no recognition as a token of his 
 Love ? 
 
 Grace through Christ is our choicest treas- 
 ure. It is a sacred treasure. It is as sacred 
 in the eye of God as his own name, and 
 honor, and integrity. And while he watches 
 
THE RECOGNITION OP CHRISt's GRACE. 189 
 
 with jealousy its reception by us, can we 
 meet it and take it and use it unmindful 
 of its value and its origin, yet do no wrong? 
 We have no more right to draw a veil over 
 God's most glorious attribute when displayed 
 in that which is least, than when displayed 
 in that which is greatest. We have no 
 more right to spurn it in a petty providence, 
 than in the matchless deed of Redemption. 
 No ! whatever form that grace may assume, 
 we. are bound to recognize it ; to recognize it 
 as the grace of Christ. Whether it be reflected 
 to us from Sinai, or from Calvary, or from a 
 thousand inferior things, matters nothing. In 
 any kindness which God shows us, we ought 
 to detect his agency. We should receive such 
 a blessing, — no matter what it is, — feeling 
 that it is his gift ; feeling that it is undeserved, 
 that, being undeserved, it is a gift of his grace. 
 Not only should we know and remember that 
 it is from his hand, but we should do so with 
 emotion. It should be received devoutly. 
 While we detect his superscription upon it, 
 we should do so with filial hearts. We should 
 dehght in it, not so much for the gift's sake as 
 for the Giver's ; not so much in the blessing 
 as in the grace of the blessing. Let us enjoy 
 it. Let us be ravished with it, if we will. But 
 
190 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 throvgh the blessing let us discern the grace 
 
 — humbly, heartily, affectionately, — and in 
 the grace behold the image of the Giver, and 
 trace his precious care and love. " It is a gift, 
 
 — a gift from heaven, — a gift of grace," — 
 should be the tribute of our lips, the fervent 
 acknowledgment of our hearts. Thus should 
 we receive the gift ; thus recognize the grace. 
 
 Bat as such gifts are repeated, our recogni- 
 tion of grace should be repeated. We should 
 render this tribute hahilualhj ; for the blessings 
 of to-day, — for the blessings of to-morrow, — 
 for the blessings of yesterday. If grace as- 
 sume a thousand forms, and write its name 
 upon ten thousand objects, — then a thousand 
 and ten thousand times should we perform 
 this duty. Let not one blessing slip by with- 
 out welcoming it in the name, and as the 
 gi'ace, of heaven. Taste not a cup of mercy, 
 
 — nay, not a drop thereof, — without relishing 
 the love and the grace which commingle in it. 
 And when the cap is drained, when the gush 
 of enjoyment is over, let the grateful memory 
 of it be cherished. If we would fully recog- 
 nize the grace which blesses us, we must 
 treasure up the past ; we must keep a cata- 
 logue of our mercies ; we must hallow that 
 catalogue in our hearts. 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 191 
 
 It is neither fit to overlook grace as it passes 
 before us, nor to forget it when it is past. 
 
 I have said that we receive grace to an ex- 
 tent coequal with our blessings. What, then, 
 are our blessings ? and are they all of grace ? 
 
 There are blessings peculiar to the believer. 
 Christian brother, — you love God. Yes , 
 though that love be faint and flickering, yet — 
 if your name be not a false one — you love 
 God. But have you always loved him ? No. 
 But a little while ago you shut your heart 
 against him. You cringed and bowed at the 
 altar of some earthly idol. You " worshipped 
 and served the creature more than the Crea- 
 tor." But a little while ago, and you was a 
 doubter of God. You did not and would not 
 confide in his Word, or his Sovereignty, or 
 his dealings. Your feet were upon his statute- 
 book. Your heart was full of evil. You 
 nursed your corruptions ; and they grew. You 
 so tutored your depravity that you could 
 quench the Holy Spirit, and withstand Redeem- 
 ing Love. But the veil is removed from your 
 heart. You have felt the infusion of a new 
 principle. This hatred of a holy God has 
 passed away. Your lips have sung praises, 
 
192 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 and your heart has melted beneath the cross 
 of Christ. Have you forgotten the love of 
 your espousals ? Have you, forgotten the 
 wormwood and the gall ? Have you forgot- 
 ten your deliverance ? 
 
 And are you, pardoned ? Are you a new 
 creature ? Do you bear the image of God ? 
 Is the seal of Redemption upon your soul ? 
 upon yours, where but yesterday was the pe- 
 culiar sin of despising and rejecting Christ? 
 Yesterday greedy for husks, and chaff, and 
 vanity, — now with a "hope full of immortal- 
 ity " I Yesterday gazing, with idolatrous de- 
 light, upon the sparkling frailties which will 
 be burned up to-morrow, — now with your eye 
 upon a crown of life ! Yesterday a " child of 
 perdition," — to-day a child of God ! Yester- 
 day a slave of sin, — now an heir of glory ! 
 
 And to what privileges are you admitted? 
 To the privilege of endearing fellowship with 
 Christ; of communing with him as friend 
 communeth with friend; oi feeling the pres- 
 ence and sympathy and consolations of your 
 best beloved ; of thus having on earth a fore- 
 taste of heaven. To the privilege of that 
 " hope which is as an anchor to the soul." To 
 the privilege of that faith which is Life eter- 
 nal. To the privilege of " the peace of God 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 193 
 
 which passeth all understanding." To the 
 privilege of sanctified afflictions. AU these are 
 yours, in proportion to your fidelity, and your 
 intimacy with Christ. 
 
 Precious, precious blessings ! fitted to the 
 soul I to its helplessness, — its pollution, — its 
 wretchedness, — its immortality I 
 
 How came they yours ? Did you earn 
 them ? Did you sow their seed ? Did you 
 break up the soil on which they have grown ? 
 Did you conquer the thorns and briers which 
 grew in riot there before? No. Your seed 
 was the teeth of dragons ; and the harvest 
 would have been after its kind. Well ; how 
 came you to be a new creature ? How came 
 such a one as you were to love God ? to sit 
 at the foot of the cross ? to taste Redeem- 
 ing love ? to enjoy the privileges consequent 
 upon spiritual adoption ? Was the work 
 yours? No, — no. Christ wrought it; not 
 you. " You love him because he first loved 
 you." " You did not choose him, but he 
 chose you." 
 
 Then these spiritual blessings are gifts. But 
 were they merited? Yes; — if sin merits 
 blessings ; if pollution merits the fellowship 
 and embrace of purity ; if rebellion merits par- 
 don ; if depravity merits heaven ; then you 
 
194 TPIE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 have merited the privileges and heirship of 
 your adoption. 
 
 O, look at the comforts of a believer in 
 ^ Christ I See them in all their forms of beauty. 
 Behold their subduing, heavenly influences. 
 Witness their effects through the vicissitudes 
 of life ; through the conflict — that victorious 
 conflict — with death. Look at that spiritual 
 change of his, by which he is introduced to 
 these blessings. Look at what he was, — at 
 what he is.. Surely they are not deserved. 
 Surely they are not earned. Every one of 
 them is of grace. In germ, in bud, in blossom, 
 in ripeness, in bestowment, in enjoyment, — 
 they are each and all and altogether — grace. 
 
 There are blessings which believers and un- 
 believers receive in common. 
 
 Suppose, now, there w^ere no verdant fields 
 throughout the world ; and no flowers ; and 
 no breath of wind to waft their fragrance ; 
 and no pleasant sounds to greet our ears. 
 Suppose the sun were blotted out ; and the 
 moon ; and the stars. Suppose there were no 
 form of beauty, and no source of bodily delight 
 around us. Suppose all the superfluities of 
 external nature were sw^ept away, and nothing 
 left to us but the mere essentials of animal ex- 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 195 
 
 istence. Are we aware how much enjoyment 
 we receive from the myriads of objects which 
 address our senses ? Are we aware how a 
 thousand neglected beauties, and ten thousand 
 unnoticed springs of comfort, are silently drop- 
 ping their contributions of kindness upon our 
 hearts ? Rain, and sunshine, and pure air, 
 and the singing of birds, and the beauty of 
 flowers, and the mute splendor of the stars, are 
 little thought of. But men who have been 
 bereft of them — and such men there have 
 been — have thought much of them; and 
 have pined, and groaned, and cursed, and 
 died, in misery for the want of them. 
 
 But this is only one department of our tem- 
 poral blessings. There is our table, spread to 
 nourish us. There is our raiment, to protect 
 us. There are our dwellings, to shelter us. 
 There are our fields and our flocks and our 
 herds, our silver and our gold, our beds, our 
 friends, our nights of rest, our mornings of vigor 
 and health. There are our family enjoyments; 
 parental, filial, fraternal, conjugal affection and 
 sympathy and communion, — with their un- 
 numbered seasons of refreshing. There are our 
 providential bounties, of endless variety and of 
 hourly recurrence. Are all these things trivial ? 
 Are they unworthy to be mentioned? Let 
 
196 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 them depart, — and there would come upon you 
 a ni^ht of desolation whose darkness would be 
 terrific. A blight would come over you whose 
 influence defies conception. 
 
 Here, then, is this bounteous furniture of 
 nature, — here are these countless ministra- 
 tions of providence, — showering their precious 
 blessings upon us with the revolution of every 
 year and of every moment. However we 
 may have labored to secure them, yet we know 
 that we have not earned them. A wind, a 
 breath, the slightest accident, might defeat the 
 toil and labor and calculation of years. We 
 cannot guaranty to ourselves the slightest 
 blessing. We cannot put our finger on a 
 single bounty and say, — " It is ours.''^ No ; 
 they are gifts. From some source or other, — 
 they are gifts. 
 
 Are they by right, or — by bounty ? Are 
 they by right, or — by grace? Why! if we 
 have an angel's purity ; if we are unsullied by 
 a single breath of sin ; if not a thought con- 
 trary to the law has crept over our hearts ; — 
 then they are by right. But if one transgres- 
 sion be wi'itten against us, then they are of 
 grace. If one impure wish has left its traces 
 upon our souls, — it was the forfeiture of all 
 blessing. 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 197 
 
 Need I tell or prove our demerit ? It is 
 written on our consciences. We know it. 
 We feel it. Then I need not argue out the 
 grace which signalizes our blessings. I need 
 only say, that by every sin, and by every pollu- 
 tion within us, the grace which surrounds us, 
 which sanctifies the various good things of 
 life, is enhanced. And if the grace be in- 
 creased as demerit is increased, how great, 
 how wondrous, how magnificent, the grace 
 which creates and gives all this congregation 
 of mercies ! 
 
 But there are also blessings peculiar to ui\ 
 believers. 
 
 They are beset with influences whose direct 
 design and tendency is to turn them from the 
 misery and emptiness of a worldly mind, to 
 the peace and satisfaction of a spiritual mind ; 
 from feverish, discontented unbelief, to health- 
 ful, happy faith. Such are their Bibles, — 
 their Sabbaths, — their sanctuary privileges, — 
 the strivings of the Spirit with their hearts. 
 Tliese are the Only stars of hope which glim- 
 mer upon their future prospects. If these pre- 
 vail not over unbelief, the sinner is beyond 
 help. 
 
 But more ; that unbelief is the compreh^*j 
 
198 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 sive element of utter woe. Joined with it, — 
 combined with it, — there are attributes of 
 character and faculties of soul whose full de- 
 velopment is perfect ruin. Look at unbelief, 
 — that spirit of distrust toward God, that dis- 
 agreement with God's will, that chafing dis- 
 like of his government. It has a demoniac 
 power. It has power to scathe the soul with 
 unutterable torments. To-day, — it only mur- 
 murs against God. It is only a little restive 
 when the Law rebukes it. It is only a little 
 fretful when it feels God's sovereignty. It is 
 only slightly moved when the providence of 
 God thwarts its plans and cuts off its worldly 
 hopes. But these light ripplings of unbelief 
 mar the sinner's peace. And if these mar 
 his peace,, what, — what^ I ask, would be the 
 spiritual havoc of that same unbelief, should it 
 reign in all its despotic might and fury? Let 
 it come in contact with the will of God at ev- 
 ery point ; let it feel the supremacy and power 
 of God at every turn ; let it cross the purposes 
 of God at every moment ; let it contend 
 against the plans and deeds of God perpetu- 
 ally and with all its niight ; and the unbeliev- 
 er's whole experience would be frenzy, mad- 
 ness, despair. This is not supposition only. 
 Unbelief — like every other habit of the soul, 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 199 
 
 whether good or bad — is capable of indefinite 
 progression and indefinite power. 
 
 Add to this development of unbelief, the 
 power of a guilty conscience. In all his impo- 
 tent conflicts with God's will and might, let 
 the unbeliever see God's holiness ; let him feel 
 that God is right and he is wrong ; let him 
 feel that all his history has been black with 
 guilt from the first pulsation of his unbelief 
 onward, — and here are a thousand stings 
 darting their venom upon his soul perpetually, 
 and without an antidote. 
 
 O, there are fire and fuel in the unbeliever's 
 heart which only a breath would fan into a 
 devouring flame ; which need the influence of 
 only a breath to consume every semblance of 
 enjoyment, to silence every profession of peace, 
 to lick up every vestige of pride, — for ever I 
 
 Such are the unbeliever's inbred curses ; the 
 elements of death which are in ambush in his 
 heart. But what are his blessings ? His 
 blessings ! The checks ivhich restrain these 
 curses. Why does unbelief now work so 
 slightly? TF7/7/ does conscience now whisper 
 so gently ? They are held back. For mercy's 
 sake, their power is fettered. They straggle 
 against God, they war against the sinner's 
 peace, as much as tht'y can. They urge him 
 
200 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 as near to perfect depravity and to perfect 
 misery as they can. But there are barriers 
 around them which they cannot overleap. 
 These barriers alone interpose between the 
 unbeliever and despair. 
 
 Who has raised them up ? The sinner ? 
 No. They are blessings. They are gifts^ — 
 put there by some one who knows his deprav- 
 ity, and desires his good, and dreads his mis- 
 ery, more than the unbeliever does. 
 
 O, what grace is restraining grace I The 
 only separation-wall between unbelief and hell! 
 All the influences at work for his conver- 
 sion, and all the checks upon his depravity, 
 come within the proper catalogue of the sin- 
 ner's peculiar blessings. And they are each 
 and all of grace. The very stigma of his un- 
 belief joroyes them all of grace. 
 
 To what extent, then, is grace dispensed to 
 us in our present state ? To every possible 
 extent. It stretches its span, and diffuses its 
 gifts, over the whole field of our existence. 
 Grace ! it beams in every blessing. It sparkles 
 in every cup of delight. It sits at every table. 
 It smiles, in every family of love. It is found 
 in every spiritual enjoyment. It adorns every 
 beauty of nature, and every bounty of provi- 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRIST's GRACE. 201 
 
 deuce. Its signet-mark is on the Sabbath, 
 and on every Gospel privilege. And its strong 
 seal is upon every impediment of unbelief. It 
 is everywhere, where there is a comfort for 
 the human heart, or an abatement of human- 
 sorrow. 
 
 Then it should be recognized — everywhere. 
 We should see it, and praise it, and enjoy it, 
 in all our mercies ; on every hand ; at every 
 step ; in every hour. 
 
 But why should we recognize this grace as 
 Christ's ? 
 
 Because it is his. Because the savor of his 
 Love, and the print of his finger, are upon 
 every blessing. 
 
 Who is their source ? Whose hand arched 
 the heavens, and lit their lamps, and made and 
 clothed the world ? Who filled the mines of 
 Nature with their exhaustless stores ? Do you 
 not know — who ? He who " was in the be- 
 ginning with God. All things were made by 
 him ; and without him was not any thing 
 made that was made." He who " was made 
 flesh and dwelt among us full of grace and 
 truth." 
 
 I ask again, Who is Head over all things ? 
 Christ " is the head of all principality and 
 
202 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 power." He " is gone into heaven, and is on 
 the right hand of God ; angels and authorities 
 and powers being made subject unto him." 
 " All things are under his feet." " All things 
 are delivered unto him of the Father." It is 
 Jesus Christ, then, who controls the wheels of 
 Nature. It is Jesus Christ who arranges all our 
 circumstances in life ; who allots to us prov- 
 idences, spiritual restraints, spiritual comforts. 
 But let it never, never, be forgotten, — we 
 are sinners. It is our sin which makes our 
 blessings — grace. From our first sin we 
 were obnoxious to punishment ; we were de- 
 serving' of nothing else. Justice demanded 
 — righteously demanded — curses upon our 
 heads. But — we have been reprieved from 
 punishment. Nay, — reprieve is not all. Re- 
 prieve has been one ceaseless, bounteous har- 
 vest-season of precious mercies. The tender- 
 ness of Christ has not had reference merely to 
 our exposure to retribution. He has grasped 
 at blessings, too ; not merely at a blessing here 
 and another there, but at blessings for us all 
 along ; at profusion of gifts ; at the best of 
 gifts. Is here no wrong to Justice ? Can the 
 Law, and government, and righteousness of 
 God be " magnified and made honorable," — 
 can his character be without blemish, — 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 203 
 
 while such blessings are bestowed upon sin- 
 ners ? 
 
 Brother, — the answer is in the cross of 
 Christ. On that cross was made a sacrifice 
 for sin. But for that sacrifice, Justice must 
 have been wronged ; God's government must 
 have been impeached ; his character must have 
 been marred ; by any deed of kindness towards 
 us. Consequently, — had it not been for 
 Christ's death, the anguish of his soul, the bit- 
 terness of his cup ; had it not been that he trod 
 " the winepress of the wrath of God," that he 
 was " wounded for our transgressions and 
 bruised for our iniquities," — not a deed of 
 mercy, not a moment's respite from wrath, not 
 an hour of blessing, not a beam of hope, not a 
 smile of enjoyment, could have been given us. 
 Justice must have cut us off, not only from 
 spiritual blessing, but from carnal ; not only 
 from fellowship with God hereafter, but here ; 
 not only from the brightness of heaven, but 
 from all brightness, all cheerfulness, all sources 
 of enjoyment, in this world. 
 
 Has Christ, then, made all things which are 
 fitted to our enjoyment, and which we do en- 
 joy from day to day ? Has he the sovereign 
 control of all things which are made ? and of 
 us ? Has he the management of every wind, 
 u 
 
204 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRIST S GRACE. 
 
 and the dispensation of every good ? Does he 
 give us life and breath and all things ? Does 
 he cheer the believer ? Does he adorn the 
 world around us ? Does he give with his own 
 hand every providential blessing ? Does he 
 restrain the depravity of unbelief? Yes. 
 
 But where gets he his warrant ? Whence 
 comes his right ? He bought it. He bought 
 it at the hand of Justice. He paid for it a 
 price, — the highest price the universe could 
 furnish. It was not silver. It was not gold. 
 It was his own precious blood. It was " his 
 soul^ — an offering for sin." 
 
 Brother, — the cross of Christ is the source 
 of our blessings. The cross of Christ — is the 
 fountain-head of all grace. The anguish of its 
 Sacrifice was the price of our gifts. 
 
 Well, then ; the impress of that cross is 
 upon every good thing. The gifts of Nature, 
 of Providence, the Bible, the Sabbath, the 
 Sanctuary, the privileges of adoption, the man- 
 ifold checks upon depravity, all — all — are 
 the purchases of Redemption. Not a comfort 
 do you enjoy ; not a moment do you consume ; 
 not a form of beauty do you behold ; not a 
 glow of health do you feel ; you have not a 
 night of rest, not a day of brightness, not a 
 child, not a garment, not a dollar ; but it is a 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRIST's GRACE. 205 
 
 memorial of Redeeming Love. The name of 
 Christ, — the love of Christ, — the death of 
 Christ, — are portrayed before you everywhere. 
 The signet-mark of Redemption is on your 
 tables, your cups, your furniture, your door- 
 posts, your fireside, your harvests, your family 
 fellowship. 
 
 We ought, also, to recognize as ChrisVs the 
 grace displayed in all our mercies ; because 
 such recognition makes all things our ser- 
 vants. 
 
 It makes them peculiarly tributary to our 
 enjoyment. It matters not how slender is your 
 purse, how mean your table, or how humble 
 your home. Look upon each as the gift of 
 Christ ; look upon each as better than you de- 
 serve ; look upon each as procured for you by 
 the high price of atonement ; look upon each 
 as a memorial of Redeeming Love ; look upon 
 each as a mercy for which praise and gratitude 
 are due, and feel the gratitude and speak the 
 praise ; and every individual bounty will fill 
 vour heart with life. You will welcome home, 
 and food, and income, not for their own sakes 
 only, but because they bear the image and 
 superscription of Divine affection, of Redeem 
 ing Grace. 
 
206 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 Have you not something in your possession 
 which is associated in your mind with the 
 memory of an absent, or a departed friend? 
 Something which a parent gave you ? or a 
 brother ? or a sister ? or a husband ? or a 
 wife ? I ask not whether it be a fortune, or a 
 trinket. It is a gift of aflfection. It is a me- 
 morial of one who is gone. Yes ; and because 
 it is a memorial, — because it reminds you of 
 the kindness and the virtues of one whom you 
 esteem and love, — because it revives that par- 
 ticular image in your mind, — it is a treasure. 
 Be it a diamond, or be it a bawble, it is a 
 treasure ; it is a source of enjoyment. 
 
 Such are all the blessings of life — the 
 greatest and the least alike — to him who, 
 with an affectionate heart, recognizes them as 
 the gifts of Christ. They are memorials of 
 your Redeemer. They are tokens of his love. 
 Look upon them as such, — welcome them, 
 prize them, as such, — suffer them to remind 
 you of his grace, of his unspeakable love, of 
 his "suffering of death," — then they are 
 doubly precious ; precious for their own sakes, 
 but above all precious for his sake. They 
 cheer you as blessings ; but, above all, as re- 
 viving in your heart the image of that bound- 
 less love and matchless glory which reside in 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 207 
 
 the person of your Redeemer. You cannot 
 hut rejoice in the relish of every fruit, in the 
 beauty of every flower, in the dispensation of 
 every good, if you truly perceive therein the 
 grace and love of Christ. In your home, in 
 your table, in your civil institutions, in your 
 garden, in your field, in earth and sky, in day 
 and night, in the Sabbath,*in the sanctuary, 
 and in all the orderings of providence, you will 
 have sources of enjoyment which the purblind 
 worldling knows nothing of. All these things 
 will bestir in your heart those fervent emotions 
 whose very exercise is happiness, — whose jt?er- 
 fect exercise is heaven. The very reverses 
 and bereavements which affect you will oe 
 channels of enjoyment, for you will perceiv^e 
 how they are attempered by grace ; you will 
 feel that, with all their sharpness, they are 
 gentler than you deserve, and are made so by 
 Redeeming Love. 
 
 I envy not the man who eats up the bless- 
 ings of life as an ox does the grass of the 
 field ; with no relish beyond that c'' leir 
 sweetness. I envy not the man who tastes 
 nothing upon his table but food ; who sees 
 nothing in the stars but light, and nothing in 
 the revolutions of providence but changes of 
 good or ill. He has his enjoyments, to be 
 
208 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 sure ; but they are low, and narrow, and eva- 
 nescent. But enjoyments such as he gathers 
 who humbly and affectionately detects the im- 
 press of a Saviour's grace, and hears the whis- 
 perings of a Saviour's love, in every passing 
 providence -and in every object of nature, I do 
 covet. Such are the enjoyments of heaven 
 where all things are relished only as inter- 
 preters of Christ ; where every angel and ev- 
 ery pavement is brilliant only because " the 
 glory of God doth lighten them, and the Laynb 
 is the light thereof." Such enjoyments may 
 be coveted by an earthly pilgrim. 
 
 But again, this recognition of Christ's grace 
 "makes all things our servants," because it 
 makes all things fortify us against temptation. 
 There is no object of sense which may not 
 seduce us to sin. Yet the power resides not 
 in the object^ but in the subject. That bless- 
 ings and beauties are mear.s of transgression, 
 is not because there is inherent evil in them, 
 but because the heart which looks upon them 
 is in an evil mood. Correct the heart, — hold 
 that in a right attitude and frame, — and you 
 dissipate the temptation. 
 
 It is not when you are filled with a devout 
 perception of the glory of Christ, that you are 
 excited by any external thing to murmuring, 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 209 
 
 or envying, or anger, or fraud. It is not when 
 your heart is throbbing in gratitude and amaze- 
 ment in view of Redeeming Love ; it is not 
 when you are studying and adoring the un- 
 searchable riches of grace, — that you give 
 place to error of heart or behavior. It is when 
 you forget these things. Read them, then, 
 upon all things ; make all things mementos 
 of Christ ; hear their testimony of his love ; 
 detect their relation to his cross ; do this habit- 
 ually ; make the Bible, and the sanctuary, and 
 providence, and nature, and hardships, and 
 comforts, things high and things low, conduct 
 your thoughts and heart to Him who arranges 
 them all ; look upon all things, and all events, 
 as parts of a great and beauteous temple 
 which He has reared, and wherein He dwells 
 " full of. grace and truth " ; and you may walk 
 the world over in safety. 
 
 Can you revile him who reviles you, if then 
 that very wrong reminds you of the grace of 
 Him who " reviled not again " ? Can you 
 covet your neighbor's goods, and overreach 
 him in trade, when you feel that Christ makes 
 you to differ, and that Christ has given you 
 already more of goods than you deserve ? 
 Can you rail at a wicked man if his wicked- 
 ness wakes you to a' grateful remembrance of 
 
210 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRIST's GRACE. 
 
 One who died alike for him and for you? 
 Can yoa misuse your property, or grudge to 
 use it for good, while you feel, thankfully and 
 humbly, that you hold it by grace? and that 
 it is a product of Christ's death ? Can you 
 murmur and repine, that you have only a cot- 
 tage for shelter, and only a crust for food, while 
 in these very things you recognize the grace of 
 Christ ? 
 
 To suppose that you can do these things, is 
 absurdity. It is supposing the same breath to 
 utter blessing and cursing. It is supposing 
 the same feeling to be good and evil. 
 
 No, brother beloved, — so far as you de- 
 voutly recognize that grace which character- 
 izes all the mGrcies of life, just so far you neu- 
 tralize the power of temptation. And if you 
 thus recognize it everywhere and always, you 
 clear your path of snares ; so far as it affects 
 you^ you purge the vjhole ivorld of^ tempta- 
 tion. 
 
 But yet again ; this recognition of Christ's 
 grace " makes all things our servants," because 
 it makes all things tributary to our perfection. 
 The Gospel of the cross is " the power of God 
 unto salvation." The " truth as it is in Jesus " 
 is the grand, efficacious means by which sin- 
 ners are converted and sanctified. And though 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 211 
 
 the preaching of the Truth stands preeminent 
 in the system of means, yet it is only preemi- 
 nent. In whatsoever way the truth in Christ 
 is shadowed forth, — whether in baptism, or 
 the Lord's supper, or providence, — that way 
 is adapted to fit men for heaven. And in 
 whatever object or event we recognize that 
 truth devoutly, in that we have an aid to sane- 
 tification. That object, and that event, pro- 
 mote our holiness. 
 
 Now, then, the hand of Christ is in every 
 natural object, and in every occurrence of life. 
 In each, the dying love of Christ is concerned. 
 Each speaks, then, of the truth as it is in him. 
 Each brings you some lesson interpretative of 
 the cross. You behold the object, or the event, 
 and therein you also behold the Truth. You 
 behold it devoutly, teachably. It has made its 
 impression upon you. But what impression ? 
 It has wakened you to holy affections. It has 
 given impulse, strength, growth, to those affec- 
 tions. And in the same degree it has weak- 
 ened the power of indwelling sin. In other 
 words, — by recognizing the grace of Christ in 
 things around you, you have made them vehi- 
 cles of Gospel truth, and therefore tributary 
 to your ultimate perfection. 
 
 But look at the mode of this operation. 
 
212 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 You sit down at your table to refresh your 
 body with the bounty of Providence. As you 
 receive the -gift, — as you consider the cheer- 
 fuhiess and comfort of those who share your 
 board, — as you enjoy the pleasures of do- 
 mestic fellowship, — you remember that these 
 comforts are the gifts of Christ. You call to 
 mind that He has created the world and given 
 it its increase ; that He, overruling every event 
 jpf providence, has spread that table, and or- 
 dained that family circle. You call to mind 
 the truth, that, had not He interfered in your 
 behalf by sacrifice, by blood, that hour of bless- 
 ing would never have been your allotment, 
 that therefore it is of grace and the purchase 
 of his Love. Your thoughts and your heart 
 go up from the gifts to the Giver, — from the 
 things purchased to the price, — from the flesh- 
 ly blessings to the cross ; and thus with a 
 spirit of fervent Christian gratitude you eat 
 your bread, and drink your cup, and enjoy 
 your social board. You have met Christ there. 
 And the blessings before you have not been 
 refreshment for the body merely, but for the 
 soul. Recognizing the grace of Christ there, 
 your heart has been impelled to heavenly 
 emotions. You have been quickened in Di- 
 vine life. You have been made to advance 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRIST's GRACE. 213 
 
 toward the fulness of the stature of perfection 
 in Christ. 
 
 Use any other blessing in the same way, 
 and the same influence is experienced. Use 
 all things in the same way, and all things be- 
 come tributary to your spotless resemblance 
 to God. 
 
 But we ought also to recognize as Chrisfs 
 the grace displayed in all our mercies, because 
 if we do not, we sin. 
 
 Whether God speak to us, as to his people 
 bf old, by an audible voice, or in the silent 
 language of the written Word, if we do not 
 hear and heed and revere the voice, we sin. 
 Whether he display himself by the visible 
 symbol of the Shekinah, or by the visible 
 glory of the natural heavens, if we do not 
 reverently recognize that memorial of God, we 
 sin. The Law is — God's. The heavens are 
 — God's. The world and the fulness thereof 
 are — God's. They speak in His name. They 
 declare His glory. " In Christ's stead," they 
 call upon us to respond, joyously and reverently, 
 to their declarations. If we shut the ear, and 
 lock up the heart, and give back no response ; 
 if we overlook this testimony of Christ ; we 
 trifle with his messengers and lightly esteem 
 his glory. 
 
214 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 "Were we to pass through a host of angels, 
 every one of whom had some different thing 
 to say about the power and wisdom and holi- 
 ness of "God in Christ"; and should we 
 simply scan their forms and graces and vest- 
 ments, but give no heed to their words, — sure- 
 ly we should sin ; we should despise the reve- 
 lation of Divine glory. But what matters it 
 whether we pass thus listless and careless 
 through a throng of preaching angels, such as 
 bow and praise in heaven, or through a throng 
 of angels, such as preach to us in the Word, 
 in Providence, in Nature ? What matters it* 
 how Christ is preached ? What matters it by 
 whom ? (Philipp. i. 18.) If we spurn the 
 sermon, do we not spurn the testimony ? And 
 if we spurn the testimony of Jesus, do we not 
 sin? 
 
 But we were speaking of the grace of 
 Christ. Now if it be a sin to overlook a mani- 
 festation of his power, or his holiness, or his 
 wisdom, or his justice, much more is it a sin 
 to treat lightly a manifestation of his grace. 
 Grace is his highest glory. Grace is his most 
 sacred attribute. Grace is the attribute in 
 which all his other attributes converge. And 
 when we look sleepily upon any memorial of 
 his grace^ we contemn the whole assemblage of 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 215 
 
 his glories. If, then, we overlook the grace of 
 Christ as displayed in His common mercies, 
 we do so at our peril ; we incur a fearful guilt. 
 But more ; if we overlook the grace of 
 Christ as displayed in our mercies, "we sin " 
 by putting the mercy in the place of the Giver. 
 You sit down and enjoy food and raiment 
 and home and wealth and friends. You walk 
 abroad cheered by the light of the sun, refresh- 
 ed by the air of heaven, delighted by the fruits 
 and flowers of the garden, or by the sparkling 
 glories of an evening sky. You enjoy these 
 things, but do not enjoy the grace which they 
 portray. You open your heart to them, but 
 not to their Creator and gracious Giver. You 
 delight in them, but not as the gifts and me- 
 morials of grace. Yes, — and thereby you 
 have installed the creature in the sanctuary of 
 your affections, and have shut out the Creator. 
 You have burned your incense upon the altar 
 of the world, and withholden it from the altar 
 of the Lord. You have embraced and appro- 
 priated, enjoyed and consumed, the blessing; 
 unmindful, neglectful, of the Giver. The out- 
 goings of your heart have stopped at the very 
 point whence they should have risen up to 
 Christ. The blessing is substituted for the 
 Benefactor ; the creature, for its Maker ; the 
 
216 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE, 
 
 world, for God. The token of grace is cow* 
 verted into an idol. The sanctuary of your 
 heart — where Christ ought to be — is pol- 
 luted and desecrated. He is rifled of his dues, 
 by the godle»s, graceless welcome which you 
 have lavished on his bounty. 
 
 Bat this is not all. If you overlook his 
 grace in your mercies, you pervert it. Those 
 mercies, as the fruits of his grace, have their 
 specific errand and design over and above 
 your sensual comfort. They are not ordained 
 and dispensed for the flesh merely. They are 
 designed and fitted to be clews to the grace 
 which they embody. They are intended as so 
 many mediums of intercourse between your- 
 self and your Redeemer; as so many ladders 
 by which you should climb, as it were, to 
 heaven ; as so many telescopes through which 
 you should spy out the manifold glory of 
 Christ. They come to preach to you the Gospel. 
 They come to remind you of the cross. They 
 come as pledges of Redeeming Love. They 
 come as remembrancers of Him who loved you 
 before the world was. They come so to 
 quicken your heart to love and devotion, so to 
 attune it to grateful praise, that it shall be 
 fitted for the harmony of heaven. Overlook 
 their g-race, — pass them by, just as though 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 217 
 
 they had nothing to say or to show of Christ, 
 — meet them just as though they were not 
 the fruits of a Redeemer's sufferings, — and 
 what do you do ? You use grace as a tool 
 for sin. You do not pass its blessings by. 
 You do not simply let alone its monumental 
 mercies. You pervert them. You take that 
 which was meant for your spiritual good, and 
 make it an instrument of spiritual pollution. 
 The vessels of the Lord's temple are profaned 
 at the altar of idolatry. 
 
 Are you afraid to come to .the sacramental 
 table because, if you " eat and drink not dis- 
 cerning the Lord's body," i. e. not recogniz- 
 ing his grace in Redemption, " you eat and 
 drink damnation to yourself" ? Brother, if 
 you discern not his redeeming grace in your 
 common blessings^ you eat and drink damna- 
 tion (condemnation, judgment) to yourself. 
 The beauties of the external world and the 
 events of providence are as truly memorials of 
 a crucified Redeemer, as the sacramental bread 
 and wine. These are special memorials ; those 
 are common. These are typical of atonement 
 itself; those dixe products of atonement. This 
 is the only difference. All are designed as 
 remembrances of the grace of Christ. To be 
 blind to his grace in one thing is as verily a 
 gin, as tq be blind to it in any other thing. 
 
218 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 
 
 Behold, then, the reasons for a grateful, 
 humble, hearty recognition of the grace of 
 Christ in the common things and common 
 events of life. 
 
 Every blessing is his gift ; for he made and 
 distributes all. 
 
 Every blessing has been bought for you — 
 at the cost of his crucifixion. 
 
 To be alive to their testimony will make 
 them fountains of heaven-like enjoyment. 
 
 It will shield you against sin. 
 
 It will make every mercy of life tributary to 
 your sanctification. 
 
 If you recognize not the grace of Christ in 
 your blessings, you sin ; you sin, by lightly 
 esteeming that grace ; you sin, by making the 
 blessings of grace your gods ; you sin, by 
 wresting grace to your own destruction. ^ 
 
 My dear brother, — you are not a hrvte. 
 Brutish enjoyments are not enough for you. 
 You want those which are fitted to your soul. 
 You need all possible consolations in such a 
 world as this. Yoa have sins enough already, 
 and need every possible safeguard against new 
 sins. You have corruptions enough already, 
 and need every possible help to sanctification. 
 I beseech you, then, look not upon the world 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 219 
 
 and the things of the world as a brute does 
 Reckon not the enjoyments which are spiritual 
 by the scale of a brutish judgment. Weigh 
 not the pollutions of your heart in the balances 
 of the flesh. But — with all the energy and 
 earnestness of an immortal spirit, roused to a 
 sense of its perils and its wants — search out 
 the fountains of spiritual blessing, and the pre- 
 ventives of spiritual evil, whiclj everywhere 
 abound. 
 
 " Of Christ's fulness have all we received, 
 and grace upon gi-ace." His grace is every- 
 where ; in the Bible ; in the Sabbath ; in the 
 sanctuary ; in the sacraments ; in prayer ; in 
 the events of your life ; in all the monuments 
 of his power and skill and goodness which are 
 around you. Go to every one for instruction. 
 Go to every one, hungering and thirsting for 
 spiritual bread and for living water. Go and 
 unlock every casket of Divine glory. Go and 
 search out, and recognize, and adore, the 
 matchless grace of your Redeemer, wherever it 
 is displayed. Pass no mercy and no beauty 
 by, as though it were dumb and barren. Ev- 
 ery one has its testimony of Jesus. And if 
 you will but open your eye and your heart to 
 all the disclosures of his grace, you will find 
 all the world a book of revelation. You will 
 
 15 
 
220 THE RECOGNITION OF CHRIST's GRACE. 
 
 find all Nature and all Providence chanting 
 one perpetual anthem to his praise. You will 
 find the universe an orchestra where ten thou- 
 sand thousand tongues are singing of the 
 wonders of the cross, and of the riches of its 
 grace. 
 
 And if you devoutly recognize their speech, 
 if you give daily, hearty heed to their varied 
 testimony, you will make the world your ser- 
 vant, — you will make temptation your cap- 
 tive, — you will make the " forlorn-hope " of 
 Satan a ministering angel to your soul. 
 
 But if you slight the revelation of your Sav- 
 iour's grace which is brought to you in your 
 daily mercies, — if you walk through this vast 
 storehouse of his memorial gifts, unmoved by 
 their testimony, — you must meet hereafter a 
 condemning witness in every individual bless- 
 ing. And when those witnesses tell how they 
 appealed to you in vain, — how they could 
 never touch your heart by their display of 
 grace, — then will the Judge say, with fearful 
 emphasis, and with fearful justice, too, — "I 
 have called, but you have refused. I have 
 stretched out my hand, but you have not re- 
 garded. Therefore I laugh at your calamity ; 
 I mock when your fear cometh." And, in the 
 light of such testimony, of all the universe 
 
THE RECOGNITION OF CHRISt's GRACE. 221 
 
 who bear Christ's image, none will gainsay 
 the sentence ; but every lip will cry, and every 
 heart will echo back, — " Amen and Amen I " 
 
 O, then recognize grace in all things ! in 
 every star, and flower, and sunbeam ; in every 
 portion of bread ; in every cruse of water. 
 And, O, recognize their grace as Christ^ s I as 
 the product of his power ; as the gift of his 
 hand ; as the pledge of his love ; as the pur- 
 chase of his sufferings. Do not wali^ blindfold 
 through this living host of Christ's witnesses. 
 Do not hurry through these omnipresent me- 
 morials of Redeeming Love, — these dear- 
 bought, hard-earned, sacred memorials of Re- 
 deeming Love, — with your ear deaf to their 
 testimony, and your heart senseless to their 
 appeals ; for, as the light of the sun in the fir- 
 mament doth gild and beautify every object 
 in Nature, so do the power and operation of 
 Christ — the light, and love, and overflowing 
 grace of his cross — beam from the most 
 trivial events of our lives. 
 
XI. 
 
 THE BELIEVER'S DEBT TO CHRIST. 
 
 I KNOW not where or when we can stop, in 
 numbering the glories of our Redeemer. I 
 know not where or when we can stop in sur- 
 veying the riches of his grace. I know not 
 where or when we can stop in counting the 
 number of his tender mercies, or in measuring 
 the depths of his Love. I know not where or 
 when we could stop, were we simply to un- 
 dertake to show what he has done for those 
 whom he has chosen out of the world. We 
 need the noonday revelations of hereafter ; we 
 need to stand, with quickened vision, before 
 the very Throne ; we need to behold, face to 
 face, eye to eye, the glory of Him who sitteth 
 thereon ; we need to behold and understand 
 the sinfulness of sin, the pureness, the kind- 
 ness, and the curse of the Law ; we need to 
 learn the mixture of that " cup of the wine- 
 press of the wrath of God " ; we need to read 
 the histories of those who shall be saved ; — 
 before we can have surveyed the outlines of 
 His grace toward them. We want Eternity 
 
THE believer's DEBT. 223 
 
 to tell the story, to describe the grace, and to 
 utter equal praise. 
 
 Yes, brethren in Christ Jesus, — ye who 
 were sometime without Christ, " strangers 
 from the covenants of promise, having no 
 hope, without God, who were far off but now 
 are made nigh by the blood of Christ," — in 
 counting and describing what he has done for 
 youj you might go on, and go on, from point 
 to point, from view to view, from wonder to 
 wonder, from praise to praise, and your theme 
 would never fail ; its beauties, its glories, its 
 wonders, would never — never — never fade. 
 
 Come, then, and let us look at our personal 
 obligations to Christ. You are in debt to him. 
 You are indebted to him for many, for pecu- 
 liar, for precious blessings ; indebted to him 
 for more than they who have not obtained like 
 precious faith with you ; indebted to him for 
 distinguishing and inestimable favors. We 
 cannot weigh, and understand, their multitude 
 or magnitude. But do let us look; do let us 
 meditate; do let us revolve those favors; do 
 let us stand under the light of his loving-kind- 
 nesses ; till our sluggish hearts beat once more 
 with the fervor of our first love, with the sub- 
 dued emotions of the day of our espousals. 
 
 For what are you indebted to Christ ? For 
 
224 THE believer's debt. 
 
 what are you indebted to him as a believer ? 
 How are you indebted to him more than they 
 who believe not ? Their obligations to him 
 are beyond estimate ; but yours are yet greater. 
 Theirs are such, that every moment's refusal 
 to praise and serve him is fearful sin ; but 
 yoars are more and greater. 
 
 You are indebted to Christ for Redemption. 
 " He is the Saviour of all men ; specially of 
 them that believe." His sacrifice was suffi- 
 cient for all ; and, in many precious ways, 
 available to all ; but it is efficacious — spiritu- 
 ally, savingly efficacious — in you. It was for 
 you " especially " that he left his glory. It was 
 for you " especially " that he was despised and 
 rejected. It was for you " especially" that he 
 entered into covenant with the Father. It 
 was for you as a sinner. It was for you as a 
 violator of his Law. It was for you as an 
 enemy of God. It was for you as one who 
 could neither make nor procure a recompense 
 for your transgressions. But for his sacrifice 
 there never could have been reconciliation be- 
 tween you and God. But for his sacrifice 
 there never could have been a respite for you 
 from the curse of the Law. But for his sacri- 
 fice there never could have been a hiding-place 
 for your soul, or a fountain for the liquidation 
 
THE believer's DEBT. 225 
 
 of your guilt. But for his sacrifice, your doom 
 would have been sealed, your perdition would 
 have been sure. There was no price, else- 
 where, sufficient for your salvation. He came 
 and made his sacrifice — for whom? For 
 you. He came and paid the price — for 
 whom ? For you ; for you, luho believe. Just 
 before he gave himself to death, he consecrated 
 himself by prayer as the Lamb of God. He 
 consecrated himself — for you. " Father," said 
 he, " neither pray I for these alone, but for 
 them also who shall believe on me through 
 their word." And with your name upon the 
 charter of Redemption ; with your future faith 
 full before his view ; pointing the Father 
 " specially " to the terrible record which would 
 be made of your sins ; with the precious and 
 solemn prayer for your soul upon his lips ; — 
 he went away to the garden ; he went out and 
 trod the winepress ; he went forth to shame, — 
 to death, — to sacrifice. 
 
 O, yes I you were in his eye, my believing 
 brother. You were in his eye ; you were on his 
 heart, — in that night of terror, — in that hall 
 of judgment, — in that hour when God for- 
 sook him. He bore your griefs. He carried 
 your sorrou'^s. He was wounded for your 
 transgressions. He was bruised for your in- 
 
226 THE believer's debt. 
 
 iquities. He was buffeted, — it was " specially " 
 iox you. He was mocked, — it was " special- 
 ly" for you. He was reviled in the hour of his 
 crucifixion, — it was " specially " for you. His 
 soul was darkened, and stricken, and desolate, 
 and crushed. The cry went forth from the 
 Throne of thrones, " Awake, O sword ! against 
 my Shepherd, against the man that is my fel- 
 low ! " And the response went up from the 
 cross, " My God ! my God I " And the blow 
 was struck ; the blood was poured out ; the 
 sacrifice was made ; and all, and each and 
 every part, — each drop of blood, — each cry, 
 
 — each stripe, — was specially — " specially " 
 
 — for you. 
 
 He made a sure provision for your pardon. 
 He ^^ finished the work which was given him 
 to do." The Redemption was full. The price 
 was enough. The Sacrifice was perfect ; with- 
 out spot, — without blemish. When he suf- 
 fered and shed his blood, with you in his eye, 
 with your name upon his lip, with your sins 
 upon his soul, he effected Redemption. He 
 laid the only possible foundation for your sal- 
 vation ; and he laid it broad, and deep, and 
 sure. It was done for you expressly, and it 
 was enough for you fully. 
 
 Estimate, now, the preciousness of the- soul, 
 
227 
 
 the greatness of your sins, the worth and the 
 price of your redemption. Then, and not till 
 then, can you estimate your debt to Christ for 
 his suffering of death. Ye are redeemed ! Ye 
 are redeemed ! But know ye, — remember ye, 
 — " ye were not redeemed with corruptible 
 
 things, as silver and gold, but with the 
 
 precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb without 
 
 blemish and without spot, manifest 
 
 for you who by him do believe in 
 
 God." 
 
 Here is something more than you can weigh. 
 Yet this is only a part of your indebtedness to 
 Christ. 
 
 You are indebted to him for personal grace. 
 What is this personal grace ? Look and see. 
 You did not choose Christ, but he chose you. 
 The work of grace which has been wrought in 
 you, he has wrought ; he t'o whom " all things 
 are delivered of the Father." 
 
 You were a wanderer from God, and he 
 sought you. Y^ou were a stranger, and he 
 found you. You were a sinner, and he hedged 
 you about with the means of grace. Y^ou 
 were a cumberer of the ground, ready and fit 
 to be cut down ; he plead for you, and cultured 
 you. You were perverse, but he would no\ 
 
228 THE believer's debt. 
 
 give you up. You were in all the filth of un- 
 purged, unwashen, accumulated iniquity, but 
 he would not pass you by. He came and 
 pursued you, and beset you, and wrought 
 upon you, and wrought in you by his Spirit. 
 
 Christian brethren, whence are ye brought ? 
 Whither are ye brought ? What change 
 has been made in you ? in your condition ? 
 in your prospects ? Where were you once ? 
 What were you ? Where are you now ? 
 and what are you ? Why ! you " were far 
 off" from God ; " alienated and enemies 
 in 3^our mind by wicked works " ; now " ye 
 are made nigh." You were polluted, — you 
 were polluted in every member and in ev- 
 ery thought, — there was no good thing in 
 you ; you were under condemation. " But ye 
 are washed, ye are sanctified, ye are justified 
 in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, and by 
 the Spirit of our God." Ye " were children of 
 wrath even as others " ; but now are ye " chil- 
 dren of the living God" ; children of his dear 
 love. Ye were heirs of perdition ; but now 
 are ye "joint heirs with Christ." Ye were 
 poor bond-slaves, sold under sin ; but now are 
 ye " the Lord's freemen." - Ye were " in the 
 gall of bitterness " ; but now ye drink of the 
 waters of the river of life. Ye were " like the 
 
229 
 
 troubled sea when it cannot rest " ; but now 
 ye have been made to taste of peace. Ye 
 were rushing onwards, blinded and deceived, 
 in the road to the second death ; but now ye 
 are with your faces heavenward. You were 
 upon the very brink of destruction, your " feet 
 were upon slippery places " ; but now you are 
 upon a Rock of Safety, you are beneath a 
 Refuge of Almighty Love. There was no 
 bond of union, no oath of betrothal (Hos. ii. 
 19) between you and God ; but now, from his 
 love and care and covenant, " neither death, 
 nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor 
 powers, nor things present, nor things to come, 
 nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, 
 shall be able to separate you." 
 
 You were poor. You had no surety of a 
 single blessing. Your treasures were moth- 
 eaten. The things which you loved most 
 were taking to themselves wings. But now 
 " all things are yours ; whether Paul, or Apol- 
 los, or Cephas, or the world, or life, or death, 
 or things present, or things to come ; all are 
 yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's." 
 
 What is there which is evil, and fearful, and 
 accursing, which did not pertain to you ? 
 What is there which is good and precious, 
 which is not now secured to you ? 
 
230 THE believer's debt. 
 
 What has been wrought in you ? What has 
 been wrought for you ? Resurrection ! spirit- 
 ual resurrection I Whence — whither — have 
 ye been brought ? " From darkness to light" ! 
 From bondage to liberty ! From beggary to 
 riches ! From death to life ! " From the 
 power of Satan unto God " ! 
 
 And it is Chrisfs work. It is all his work. 
 It is his work, because he laid the foundation 
 for it in his blood. It is his work, because he 
 covenanted with the Father /or you. It is his 
 work, because he has overruled every influence, 
 earthly and heavenly, human and divine, out- 
 ward and inward, providential and spiritual, 
 by which it has been accomplished. It is his 
 work. It is all his. Ye " love him because he 
 first loved you." 
 
 It is Christ's work. It is a wondrous work. 
 It is a precious work. But — it is all a work 
 oi grace. It is of pure grace. It is oi free 
 grace. It is of sovereign grace. It has not 
 been wrought because ye were good, for ye 
 were evil ; nor because ye were worthy, for 
 you had no particle of good desert ; nor be- 
 cause you had more claim to blessing than 
 others, for both you and they had no claim. 
 Christ has wrought it, not because he must, 
 but because he would ; not because in any 
 
THE believer's DEBT. 231 
 
 sense he was compelled, but of his own free, 
 sovereign pleasure — purely ; not for your 
 sakes, but for his own name's sake. (1 John 
 ii. 12 ; Ephes. ii. 7.) 
 
 Look, -—look, — my brother in covenant. 
 See whereon you stand to-day! See to whom 
 you are bound I See where and what you 
 are ! Look unto the rock whence you are 
 hewn, and to the hole of the pit whence you 
 are digged, — add this to the cost and the 
 sureness of your Redemption, — and then scan 
 the amount of your debt to Christ. 
 
 But this is not all. You are indebted 
 to Christ for special and wonderful forbear- 
 ance. 
 
 His forbearance toward those who believe 
 not in him is wonderful indeed. But, if I mis- 
 take not, it is slight compared with his forbear- 
 ance toward you and toward me. 
 
 O, my brother, what a story is that of our 
 Christian discipleship I a story of unfaithful- 
 ness, of ingratitude, of inconstancy, of depart- 
 ure, of fluctuating love, of spiritual treacheries, 
 the very mention of which should make us 
 ashamed ; a story at which heaven might 
 shudder were it not a brilliant comment on 
 the grace of God ; such a story that it must 
 drive us back — back — to despair, were it 
 
232 
 
 not for the measureless efficacy, the matchless 
 sufficiency, of the blood of Christ. 
 
 Why ! when we were washen in that blood 
 of atonement ; when Christ came to us and 
 whispered, "Son, — daughter, — thy sins are 
 forgiven, go in peace" ; when he came to us 
 in the midnight darkness of our conviction, as 
 we stood pale and trembling at the foot of the 
 mount that thundered and flashed and shook 
 with tempests, and said, " It is I, be not 
 afraid," — we said we would be his. We said 
 so in secret places. We came to his altar and 
 said so there. We made our vows in his 
 sanctuary. We took upon us the seal of his 
 covenant. We declared, — we published, — 
 that to us he was the chief among ten thou- 
 sand, and the one altogether lovely. * * * And 
 how has it been with us since ? Where have 
 we been ? What have we been ? How have 
 w^e kept our vows? What return have we 
 made for his Redeeming Love ? What return 
 for his special, electing, renewing grace ? 
 What return for the precious hope of immor- 
 tal life ? What return for deliverance from 
 the lashings of the Law, and the lashings oi 
 conscience ? What return for our precious 
 seasons of closet fellowship ? What return ' 
 Why, — we forgot him ! We forgot him ! I 
 
THE BELIEVER'ti DEBT. 233 
 
 say, — we forgot him I The thunders of the 
 Law were hushed ; the smart of our scourg- 
 ings subsided ; the flashing of the fire that 
 burneth passed away; our wounds were healed, 
 — yes! by Ins stripes, by his blood, — and we 
 forgot our Deliverer! 
 
 The tempter spread his charms before us ; 
 the world smiled ; subtle enticers begged us 
 to taste the cup of enchantment ; and we were 
 snared, — we yielded, — we tasted. The smile 
 of fleshly indulgence seduced us from the smile 
 of Jesus Christ, and we plunged — with his 
 seal upon us, with his vows upon us, with his 
 blood upon us — amid the buzz and the tu- 
 mult of worldly business and relationships. 
 "We put him, who brought us salvation, to 
 open shame. We wounded him in the house 
 of his friends. The love of our espousals 
 has cooled. The fervor of our purpose has 
 abated. We have been treacherous to our 
 beloved. We have broken our vows. We 
 have forgotten our purposes and our obliga- 
 tions. 
 
 Where have been our fruits ? our good 
 fruits ? What have been our labors for 
 Christ ? What have been our self-denials for 
 Christ ? Where has been our spiritual-mind- 
 edness ? Where has been the brightness of 
 
234 THE believer's debt. 
 
 our piety? Who can tell — where? Who 
 can tell — what ? 
 
 And our neglects of duty, — how many? 
 And our indulgences in sin, — how many? 
 The occasions which we have given to others 
 to despise spiritual religion, — how many ? 
 The times in which we have made our pro- 
 fession a by-word and a contempt, — how 
 many ? 
 
 Do you say that this picture is too dark for 
 you ? Do you doubt whether it be not over- 
 wrought? For me, my brother, it is not. I 
 know it is not for me ; and I verily believe it is 
 not for you. I believe that by and by it will 
 appear that this is not half the truth. 
 
 But enough of this. How has it been with 
 our Lord all this while ? Has his love cooled ? 
 No. Has his covenant-oath been forgotten ? 
 No. Have his purposes of grace and kindness 
 faltered? No. No. Through the whole — 
 he has loved us still. Through the whole — 
 he has borne with us. He is still kind, — still 
 gracious. He has watched for our return. His 
 eye has followed us in all our wanderings. 
 Every day, — every night, — in every hour of 
 treachery, — in every scene of inconsistent in- 
 dulgence, — he has been with us. All along, 
 he has been shaping his providences, shap- 
 
THE believer's DEBT. 235 
 
 ing his blessings, shaping and tempering and 
 timing his chastisements, precisely and accu- 
 rately for our good ; busy, watchful, earnest, 
 to make all things "work out for us an ex- 
 ceeding weight of glory." And now to-day, — 
 it matters not where we are ; it matters not 
 what we are ; it matters not how far we have 
 gone in declension and apostasy and treach- 
 ery; it matters not how low we have sunken in 
 shame, — he is ready to receive us back again 
 to his arms, to his4ove, to his fellowship, to his 
 consolations, to his forgiveness. 
 
 O the forbearance, — the forbearance of 
 Christ towards us I O the greatness of our 
 debt to him for this ! 
 
 But — his Redemption for you, — his spe- 
 cial grace to you, with all its wonders, — and 
 his forbearance, — these are only Ue7ns in the 
 account of his favors. I have said nothing of the 
 precious works of his hands, — nothing of the 
 bounteous ministrations of his providence, — 
 nothing of how he has blessed you with health 
 and with sickness, with abundance and with 
 bereavement, with joy and with afflictions, — 
 nothing of his gift of Hope, — nothing of the 
 grace of his fellowship, — nothing of his min- 
 istrations for you in heaven, — nothing of the 
 16 
 
236 THE believer's debt. 
 
 mission of angels which he has established for 
 your protection and comfort, — nothing of the 
 crown of glory, or the inheritance of bliss and 
 love and perfect grace, which he keeps in store. 
 Come, brother, think of your debt to Christ ; 
 your peculiar debt. Think of the wonders he 
 has wrought for you, and in you. Think of 
 his sufferings. Think of his forbearance. 
 Think of his ceaseless, precious favors ever 
 since the day of your covenant. Remember — 
 by the blood of your Ransom, by the agony of 
 your Sacrifice, I adjure you to remember — 
 these things; what you ivere^ what you are. 
 Remember by whom, and through whom, and 
 how you are what you are. Remember the 
 chains and the bondage, the darkness and the 
 curse, the wormwood and the gall ; the beauty 
 and the preciousness of your dawning hope. 
 Remember Jesus Christ; all that he has been 
 to you ; all that he means to be to you. Re- 
 member what he is doing. Your crown, he 
 is shaping it. Your harp, he is tuning it. 
 Your seat of princedom and of priesthood, (for 
 " ye shall be kings and priests unto God,") 
 he is preparing it. Remember, — " Sometime 
 you were far off, an alien from the common- 
 wealth of Israel, a stranger from the covenants 
 of promise." He sought you. He found you. 
 
THE believer's DEBT. 237 
 
 He drew you. And now you " are made nigh 
 by — his blood." Matchless — matchless — 
 grace ! 
 
 What are you going to render back for it? 
 What are you going to render hack for it? 
 A little more indolence ? A little more stupid- 
 ity ? A little more languid love ? A little 
 more backsliding ? A little more sleep, and a 
 little more slumber ? 
 
 What! yoii^ a redeemed one! redeemed by 
 blood ! by the Son of God ! Yoii^ a subject of 
 his transforming power! Yoii^ who "were 
 dead in trespasses and sins " ! You^ " whom 
 he hath quickened " by his sovereign grace ! 
 
 Brother in covenant, luhat are you going' to 
 do ? What are you going to render back to 
 Christ ? From henceforth, — from this mo- 
 ment, evermore, — what will you render hack 
 to Christ ? Love for love ? heart for heart ? 
 oath for oath ? constancy for constancy ? — or 
 not ? 
 
 See! the heaven-wide, amazing difference 
 between what you are and what you were I 
 Look at it. It is your Redeemer''s work. 
 Look. Say, — ivill you, — luill you render 
 back to him oath for oath*, love for love, heart 
 for heart, henceforth^ — or not ? 
 
XII. 
 
 SERYICE THE REQUIKEMENT OF CHRIST. 
 
 There are two opposite errors respecting 
 the requirements of Christ which are common 
 among those who have received his Gospel. 
 The one is, that he requires only those duties 
 which concern our social relations, — such as 
 truth, honesty, kindness, gentleness ; the other, 
 that he requires some exercises of heart which 
 are either so mystical that we cannot under- 
 stand them, or so high and holy that we can- 
 not yield them. 
 
 These, I say, are errors. The first results 
 from a very narrow and worldly idea of the 
 Christian religion ; the other from an idea so 
 attenuated, flighty, and vague, as to overlook 
 and overfly those practical traits of piety which 
 are its essential beauties. Both these errors 
 are evils. They are each misconceptions of 
 the Gospel. They are each entangled with 
 false views of Christ. They each lead to re- 
 spective errors in practice ; drawing us away 
 from that " holiness without which no man 
 
SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 239 
 
 can see the Lord." I think of no one passage 
 of Scripture having more appropriate refer- 
 ence to these errors than the simple injunc- 
 tion of our Saviour, that we should " take his 
 yoke upon us." In this command are com- 
 prised, I conceive, all the requirements of 
 Christ. If we do what he here enjoins, we 
 are Christians. If we refuse, we are not 
 Christians. 
 
 The directions of the Gospel are clothed in 
 a variety of terms. Sometimes we are told 
 " to repent " ; sometimes, " to believe " ; some- 
 times, '* to come unto Christ." These several 
 directions evidently involve each other ; i. e. 
 Faith is always hand in hand with Repent- 
 ance, and with coming unto Christ. They 
 are exercises of mind which cannot exist sep- 
 arately. So that it is a matter of indifference 
 to which particular one the sinner is pointed, 
 or with which particular one his eye is occu- 
 pied ; for, if he is persuaded to one, he does 
 necessarily yield to all. It is so with the re- 
 quirement that we should take upon ourselves 
 the yoke of Christ. Whoever complies with 
 it does, as a matter of course, comply with 
 these other directions of the Gospel. And 
 thus this one does truly cover the whole 
 ground of Christian duty. 
 
§40 SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 
 
 "Repent" is a plain command. So is "Be- 
 lieve." So is " Come unto me." And yet so 
 much have men compassed these directions 
 about with the clouds and mists of speculative 
 theology, that the language " take my yoke " 
 may gain more easy access to our understand- 
 ing and conscience than, perhaps, any other 
 exhortation of Christ. It is simple. It is di- 
 rect. It is obviously and purely practical. It 
 is difficult to understand how one can blunder 
 respecting the nature of Christian virtue ; it is 
 difficult to understand how one can fall into 
 the errors which I have named; it is difficult 
 to understand how one need be kept from 
 eternal life, — the wiles, and snares, and lies of 
 Satan notwithstanding, — if this one command 
 of Christ, so express, so simple, so practical, 
 be kept before the mind. 
 
 The yoke has always been an emblem of 
 service. Our Saviour, therefore, evidently calls 
 upon us to enlist in his service ; to hold our- 
 selves, henceforth, subject to his direction ; to 
 acknowledge him openly and practically as 
 our Master. The most superficial reader of 
 the Bible cannot be ignorant that this is de- 
 manded by Christ of all whom he came to 
 redeem. He claims the right to impose upon 
 us such commands as he pleases, and to re- 
 ceive our obedience of those commands. 
 
SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 241 
 
 But what is it to render obedience to 
 Christ's commands ? What is it to take 
 upon ourselves Christ's yoke ? What is it to 
 acknowledge him as our Master? 
 
 Do we do it when we sit down and cull 
 from his statute-book one class of his direc- 
 tions for our reverence and adoption, and 
 leave another class untouched, — unstudied, — 
 uncared for, — unpractised, — dishonored ? Am 
 I a Christian just because I pray ; just be- 
 cause I confess Christ at his table; just be- 
 cause, so far forth, my conduct happens to cor- 
 respond with his commands, — when, all the 
 while, I neglect a score of others ? By no 
 means. No more a Christian for doing this, 
 than I should be a Jew for abhorrins: swine's 
 flesh, or a Mussulman for refusing wine. 
 
 Well, — vary the question. Am I a Chris- 
 tian just because I am honest, or good-natured, 
 or meek, or gentle, or of amiable feelings and 
 deportment in my domestic life ? just because, 
 in these things, I chance to tally with the 
 laws of Christ, — when, in fifty others, I pay 
 no manner of regard to his laws ? Again the 
 answer is clear and prompt from every one 
 who has half an eye to see, — By no means,. — 
 no more a Christian than a moral pagan is ; 
 no more than Satan is, when he steals the 
 
242 SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 
 
 garb and apes the deportment of an angel of 
 light. 
 
 Vary the question again. Am I a Christian 
 just because I have passed through a certain 
 amount, or a certain kind, of religious experi- 
 ence, — such as fears or compunctions, — or 
 just because I have been, or am, subject to 
 pleasurable religious excitements ; when ail 
 the while I decline the practical injunctions of 
 Christ ? No. No. 
 
 Though a man does " make long prayers,' he 
 is no Christian if he " devour widows' houses." 
 Though a man does pay "tithes of f/>int, 
 anise, and cummin," he is no Christian if he 
 " omit judgment, mercy, and faith." Though 
 a man do "compass sea and land to n^ake one 
 proselyte," he is no Christian if he " make him 
 twofold a child of hell." And though a man 
 be "beautiful outwardly," — moral, sanctimoni- 
 ous, a very Daniel in the sight of men, — he is 
 no Christian if there are excess and iniquity un- 
 touched, uncontrolled within. Prayer, receiving 
 the eucharist, and baptism, do not make a man 
 a Christian, if he be a knave. Neither do hoii- 
 esty, and sobriety, and truth, and amiablenctis, 
 if he neglect the sacraments and prayer. Nei- 
 ther do devotion and religious ceremonies, if 
 he neglect the practical duties of life. Nay, — 
 
SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 243 
 
 he may observe the whole, and yet be no 
 Christian. He may observe the whole, and 
 yet not take the yoke of Christ. He may ob- 
 serve the whole, and yet not obey Christ. 
 But how so ? Because, while Christ's com- 
 mands touch upon these things, they go fur- 
 ther. While they concern the outward life, 
 they concern the heart. While they concern 
 the heart, they concern its feelings both toward 
 man and toward God; toward man and to- 
 ward God alike and equally. 
 
 We are not serving Christ, — we are not 
 acknowledging him as our Master, — when 
 we choose one half of his rules and pass by 
 the other half as though their words were like 
 the babbling of a stream, or the whistling of 
 the wind ; no matter which half we choose, 
 nor which half we reject. No, — no more than 
 a soldier serves his country by shouldering his 
 musket and taking the field, while he plots 
 treason with the enemy. No more than a 
 child serves his father in obeying him to-day, 
 while he thwarts and defies him to-morrow. 
 
 Taking Christ's yoke signifies serving him. 
 " Serving " him signifies holding ourselves sub- 
 ject to his directions. And his directions cover 
 the whole field of actions ; outward as well as 
 inward, — inward as well as outward ; toward 
 
244 SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 
 
 God as well as toward man, — toward man as 
 well as toward God. This is its evident and 
 comprehensive signification. 
 
 But, let it De observed, there is a peculiar 
 significance in the command to " take Christ's 
 yoke," to which we ha^e not yet alluded. If 
 we do adopt his Word as our rule of conduct ; 
 if we do set out, and go on, to render obe- 
 dience to his commands ; if we do undertake 
 to regulate both life and heart, — our affections 
 toward man and our affections toward God, — 
 in the manner which he prescribes ; after all, 
 we may not serve Christ in what we do. We 
 may be serving ourselves in our religion. We 
 may rush to the commandments of the Gospel 
 in a fit of fear and merely because we would 
 be safe. We may turn to religion in a fit of 
 ascetic disappointment, because the world has 
 cheated us, or conscience has plagued us, and 
 we want to get peace. Now if this is all, — I 
 say, if this is all ; for Christ does not forbid us 
 to desire and seek our own good, — if this is 
 all for which we undertake the duties of 
 Christ's kingdom, we do but serve ourselves in 
 our religion. Christ asks for something more. 
 He requires us in all our religion to serve him. 
 In other words, — he expects of us, that in all 
 which we do we should seek his interests more 
 
SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 245 
 
 than those of any other one. He expects of 
 us to be more desh'ous of his honor, of his 
 pleasure, of the prosperity of his kingdom, of 
 the triumph of his grace, than we are for our 
 own profit, either here or hereafter. He ex- 
 pects, evidently, — not indeed that we should 
 be careless of ourselves ; not indeed that we 
 should not pant for our own salvation, — but 
 that, while we adopt his laws, while we take 
 his yoke, i\\Q ^reat reason why we do so should 
 be our love and gratitude to him. 
 
 It may be that, as your eye glances over 
 these pages, you are conscious that you are 
 not, spiritually, a Christian. It may be, also, 
 that you are really desirous, and that you even 
 seek^ to become a Christian. You are con- 
 vinced, perhaps, of your peril ; convinced, per- 
 haps, of your exceeding guilt as a sinner 
 against God; but you are benighted, — you 
 are perplexed. You have sought, you say, but 
 you have not found ; you have desired, but 
 you have not obtained. Perhaps all this is 
 true. Yes, — and something more is true. 
 You have tried to meet the Gospel's direc- 
 tions. You have tried " to repent," — i. e. you 
 have tried to urge yourself up to a certain 
 pitch of emotion about your sins ; but you 
 
246 SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 
 
 could not reach it ; after all, repentance would 
 not come. And you have tried " to believe," — 
 i. e. you have tried to kindle within yourself 
 such feelings toward Christ as he commands ; 
 but after all, the fire would not burn, — your 
 heart is dead, and cold, and icy. And now 
 you think that there is something mysterious, 
 — something inexplicable, — something beyond 
 your reach, — in this matter of becoming a 
 Christian. Or you say, that " you must sit 
 down and wait, — idle, passive, patient, — un- 
 til God comes (if he shall please to come) and 
 make you a Christian ; that you cannot regen- 
 erate yourself; that God must do that ; that if 
 he does not, you must perish." 
 
 But — 'what have you sought? For what 
 have you tried ? To regenerate yourself? To 
 make yourself repent ? But that is something 
 which you cannot do. That is something 
 over and above your duty. That is something 
 which you cannot find in the directions of 
 Christ. Your Saviour does not tell you to do 
 what only God can do. Your labor has in- 
 deed been in vain, because you have mistaken 
 your duty — utterly. 
 
 There is another thing to be considered, too. 
 Christ does not insist upon perfect obedience. 
 That is to say, — he does not require that you 
 
SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 247 
 
 shall keep entirely and uniformly every one of 
 his commandments in order to pardon and ac- 
 ceptance. If he did, the Gospel — the way of 
 salvation by Christ — would be no better than 
 ihe Law ; for the Gospel is as broad as the 
 Law. Christ " came not to destroy the Law, 
 but to fulfil." He does not, " through grace, 
 make void the Law" in the matter of one jot 
 or one tittle ; contrarywise, he " establishes the 
 Law." And if you have thought that you 
 must be pure in heart and pure in life before 
 you could be a Christian ; and if you have 
 aimed at this as the means of becoming a 
 Christian, — there again you have mistaken 
 what Christ requires ; there again you have 
 " spent your labor in vain." 
 
 What, then, must you do ? Just keep in 
 mind what you are not to do. Just keep in 
 mind that you are not to do God's work ; that 
 you are not to regenerate your own heart ; 
 that yoQ are not to make yourself perfect ; and 
 that you are not to sit still, in the midst of 
 your tremendous perils and responsibilities, 
 doing nothings — and I will tell you. In one 
 word, — take Christ'' s yoke. Begin, — begin 
 his service. Go to your closet, — go out un- 
 der the vault of heaven, — go anywhere you 
 will, and make a covenant with Christ, that 
 
248 SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 
 
 whatsoever he teHs you to do, that you ivill do. 
 And, then, begin and do it. 
 
 Now, my beloved, but bewildered, fellow- 
 sinner, how simple a thing this is ! There is 
 no metaphysical mummery about it. There 
 is no clashing, no jargon, of inconsistencies in 
 this. There is no mist and darkness. It is 
 sunshine ; sunshine because it is clear, — sun- 
 shine because, if you come to it, it will cheer 
 your soul, it will gladden your eye. It will 
 warm you with the glow of life that angels 
 feel. It will reveal to you the glories which 
 an angel sees. It will move your heart to 
 such melody as an angel makes in heaven* 
 Come, — away from your halting-place ; away 
 from that miserable position where doubts and 
 fancies becloud and scare you like the mists 
 and bowlings of a tempest. Come, — take the 
 yoke of Christ upon you. This is all you 
 have to do. Begin his service. Make your' 
 self over to him, — body and soul. 
 
 But you ask, — Is this all ? Is this Scrip- 
 tural ? Must I not first " repent " ? must I not 
 first " believe " ? must I not first " come unto 
 Christ"? My dear reader, — no. Take Christ's 
 yoke. Adopt his service. This is — " repent- 
 ance." This is — " faith." This — is " com- 
 ing unto Christ." And, all the while, you 
 
SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 249 
 
 have been trying after faith and repentance 
 just as though they were something different. 
 And that has been your snare. That has 
 been your stumbling-block. And if you cleave 
 to that, you will be bound hand and foot by 
 your own doctrines ; you will be dashed to 
 pieces, and ground to powder, by your own 
 devices. 
 
 Your path is plain. Your duty is simple, 
 however much it may involve. Take the yoke 
 of Christ. Serve him. Serve him. Beo^in 
 to-day. Begin now. 
 
 But perhaps you belong to a different class. 
 You may think yourself to be something in 
 Christ's estimation, when in truth you are 
 nothing. You may call yourself a Christian, 
 — you may think yourself good, — while it is 
 not so. Test yourself by the Word. Test 
 yourself by the simple command which we 
 have pointed out. Test yourself by"* these, — 
 for by these you must be tested. 
 
 You — are crying to yom* soul, — " Peace " ; 
 because you have been the subject of religious 
 impressions, or have experienced certain re- 
 ligious pleasures. You flatter yourself on this 
 ground that you are a Christian. At the same 
 time, you neglect prayer ; or you neglect the 
 sacraments ; or you neglect your social duties ; 
 
250 SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 
 
 or, your temper ; or, your tongue. You take 
 no more heed to some score or two of Christ's 
 commandments than though they had no ex- 
 istence. Well, — are you a Christian? Are 
 you Christ's ? Are you subject to his direc- 
 tion ? What ! when you throw his direc- 
 tions to the winds — every day? Impossible. 
 But ,7/6>zi — are one who goes current in the 
 church for a pattern of piety. You come up 
 promptly to visible religious duties. You 
 make prayers. You talk to the wicked. You 
 rebuke your brethren. You ride upon the top 
 wave of religious enterprises. You give alms 
 to the poor. You are what is called " an ac- 
 tive Christian " ; no drone, — no sleeper. But, 
 — my brother, — what of it ? Here is indeed 
 something which looks like a corner of the 
 garment of piety, — but what of it ? Have 
 you the whole ? Have you — the garment ? 
 How is it with you in your ordinary business ? 
 Do you aim to conduct all your contracts, all 
 your negotiations, all your payments, — just 
 as Christ would have you ? How is it with 
 you in your private relations ? Do you strive 
 to behave at home as Christ would have you ? 
 as a parent, — as a child, — as a hu?;band, — 
 as a wife ? How is it with your temper? Do 
 you bring that under the rules of Christ? 
 
SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST. 251 
 
 How is it with your tongue ? Do you bring 
 that under the rules of Christ ? Now if you 
 do pass over iliese things ; if you do neglect to 
 guide yourself by Christ's rules in these ; with 
 all your prayers, — with all your religious zeal, 
 
 — with all your high reputation for piety, — 
 you are " as sounding brass, as a tinkling cym- 
 bal." You are not yielding your neck to the 
 yoke of Christ. 
 
 But I think I hear another say, — " R^ight, but 
 / pay my tithes; J do justice ; /love mercy; 
 /am exemplary and scrupulous in the street, 
 and at home." Yes, — yes, — but do you " ivalk 
 
 — humbly — 'with your God " ? Heart and life 
 echo to the claims of neighbor and kindred. 
 You wrong no man. You are the light and 
 the life of your family circle. You have the 
 orphan's love and the widow's blessing. But 
 
 — in the name of your soul — are you a Chris- 
 tian? Where is your piety /oi^'rtrc/ G^o^.^ Do 
 heart and life echo to his claims, as well as to 
 your neighbor's ? Do you strive against in- 
 ivard sins? Remember, — the commands of 
 Christ sweep over the v^hole of your relations. 
 They point you to God as well as to man ; to 
 your heart as well as to your life. 
 
 To all who are living in the neglect of any 
 class, or of any one^ of Christ's commands, T 
 17 
 
252 SERVICE THE REQUIREMENT OF CHRIST, 
 
 say, — Take heed. You — Christians ! You 
 — good men! good women! good children! 
 "What! when you refuse the yoke of Christ! 
 when you do 7iot subject yourselves to his 
 commands! when yon adopt one half, and re- 
 ject one half! No, — no. If you refuse his 
 yoke, if you decline his service^ Christ is not 
 your Master. And then, — O the foundation 
 of your soul! it is a quicksand! The fabric 
 of your hope, — it is a bubble ! With all your 
 morality, — with all your religion, — with all 
 your religious Experience, — if you take not 
 Christ's yoke, your bright visions of salvation 
 will vanish, like the mists of the morning, 
 when the light of another world shall reveal 
 the nakedness of your soul. 
 
 " Be not deceived ; God is not mocked." 
 Are you Christ'' s ? Do you wear his yoke ? 
 This, — this is the question. 
 
XIII. 
 
 THE RESULTS OF THE CHRISTIAIS'S 
 AEELICTIONS. 
 
 He who loves and trusts God derives pe- 
 culiar satisfaction from the thought that all 
 events, without exception, are under God's 
 control. He loves to dwell upon this truth, 
 especially when he observes the intricacy, 
 and the mystery, and the seeming confusion 
 and contradiction of things around him. A 
 thousand facts transpire, whose reasons, whose 
 tendency, whose righteousness, he can in no 
 wise understand. But it is enough for him to 
 know, that " not a sparrow falleth to the 
 ground without his Heavenly Father." Nay, 
 — a thousand things transpire which seem 
 positively productive of evil ; the wicked pre- 
 vail, — the Truth is ineffectual, — a host of in- 
 ventions spring up in the hearts of those who 
 care not for God. But it is enough for such a 
 a believer that " the wrath of man shall praise 
 God, and that the remainder of v/rath he will 
 restrain." 
 
254 THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 
 
 But let us select, for special inspection, a 
 particular branch of the general truth of God's 
 universal superintendence. While he is con- 
 trolling all events, he is controlling' them for 
 the good of those who trust him. 
 
 Yes ; this " we know, that all things work 
 together for good to them that love God ; — 
 all things, — the greatest and the least, — the 
 brightest and the darkest, — far and near, — 
 past, present, future; all things, — plenty and 
 famine, — health and pestilence, — every revo- 
 lution and convulsion of governments, — every 
 discovery and invention of man, — the work- 
 ing of every press, and the labor of every en- 
 gine, — all are under the sway of God, and 
 they all serve God ; not only for the ultimate 
 triumph of his grace, but for the full and per- 
 fect joy of all his saints. 
 
 If all things work together for good to them 
 who love God, then surely the troubles of life 
 do. Every thing which befalls them is ordered 
 in love. Every thing which causes them grief 
 is timed and measured to them in tender mer- 
 cy, — eve?-?/ thing; whether the suffering and 
 departure of wife, husband, children ; or the 
 unkindness, or treachery, or brutality of those 
 whom they have trusted ; or pecuniary re- 
 ■-^erses ; or poverty ; or the most transient diffi- 
 
THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 255 
 
 culty of common life. If we love God, each 
 and all are ordered for our good, and produc- 
 tive of our good. 
 
 Formal proof of this is needless. It is dis- 
 tinctly declared in the Holy Scriptures, and 
 has been abundantly illustrated by the expe- 
 rience of the whole Church. Let me simply 
 specify, for the consideration of my reader, 
 some of the more prominent benefits which 
 flow to God's people through the trials of their 
 pilgrimage. 
 
 They who love God, love to go to him. 
 They love prayer. They love that intercourse 
 which is sustained between the soul and God 
 at the mercy-seat. They love it at all times. 
 But at no time does the Christian go to God 
 with such eagerness as when he is in trouble. 
 When the heart is aching and bleeding, — 
 when it throbs with grief, almost to bursting, 
 — O, how good that refuge ! How good the 
 overshadowing of the mercy-seat ! It is as 
 grateful for him to go there when he is worried 
 with cares, or dangers, or bereavements, as for 
 the hunted deer lo hide himself in the depths 
 of the forest and to cool himself in its living 
 fountains ; as grateful as for the frighted bird 
 to alight safely in its quiet nest; as grateful as 
 
256 THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 
 
 for the wearied, terror-stricken child to leap to 
 its mother's arms. It is as grateful ; it is as 
 natural. And there, — before God, — in the 
 day of his adversity, it is with a full, and fer- 
 vent, and eloquent heart, that the child of God 
 pours out his troubles and his wants. There 
 is no coldness, no formality, about his devo- 
 tions then. There is no want of words, no 
 stammering, upon his tongue. He comes under 
 the impulse of a beating heart. He comes in 
 earnest. He comes with boldness. He plun- 
 ges into the fountain. He lays hold upon the 
 Almighty arm with his ivhole strength. He 
 must^ — for to none else can he go. He must^ 
 — for none else can know his heart's bitter- 
 ness. He must^ — for nothing else can suit his 
 case ; nothing else can touch the spot of pain 
 within him. And thus he is brought into 
 closej earnest communion with God. He 
 throws himself, as it were, upon the very arms 
 of his Father; lays his throbbing head upon 
 his very bosom ; lifts up his tearful eyes and 
 drinks in the very light of his countenance. 
 
 A little bird sitting amid the foliage of a 
 tree is frightened by some noise beneath. He 
 flies to a higher branch. Again, — and he 
 leaps to a higher. Again, — to the topmost 
 bough. Again, — and he soars away toward 
 
THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 257 
 
 heaven. Just so with the Christian ; just so. 
 Disturbed by the commotions, and terrors, and 
 troubles of things benealh, his first impulse is 
 to leap vpiuard. Again, — to ascend higher 
 and still higher; and at last, to fly away to- 
 ward heaven, — toward his God, — where, for 
 the time, no distress or adversity can reach 
 him ; to the sure place of refuge, the free ex- 
 panse of undisturbed communion with his 
 Father. 
 
 I need not explain lioiv this is ; though to 
 do so would be very simple. It is sufficient 
 that such is the fact. 
 
 But there is another natural effect of world- 
 ly trouble upon the Christian. The same spir- 
 itual instinct which impels him, in a day or an 
 hour of darkness, to flee to God for fellowship, 
 also impels him to look about him and exam- 
 ine afresh the tokens of God's character and 
 the features of God's government. God has 
 smitten him. God has made him drink the 
 cup of bitterness. This is his first thought. 
 But what is his second? To see if he cannot 
 find some argument in the grief which has be- 
 fallen him wherewith to impeach the character 
 and government of Him who has smitten ? 
 No. He casts about him, instantly, to strength- 
 en his faith. He wants to gather together the 
 
258 THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 
 
 glowing evidences of God's goodness. He 
 wants to bring them before his eye in one blaz- 
 ing constellation of beauty and glory. He 
 wants to gather them together in one living 
 assemblage to pour their melting eloquence 
 upon his heart anew, so that his spontaneous 
 response shall be, — " Though thou slay me, yet 
 will I trust in thee ; though the fig-tree shall 
 not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines ; 
 the labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields 
 shall yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut off 
 from the fold and there shall be no herd in the 
 stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord and joy in 
 the God of my salvation." 
 
 And thus he brings up before himself the 
 character and the government of God as they 
 are declared in the Word, as they are inter- 
 preted in the mystery of the cross of Christ, in 
 Providence, in Nature, in all things. He finds 
 that they abide the scrutiny. Nay, the closer 
 he inspects the more he finds to admire, the 
 more to adore, the more to trust. He finds 
 that the very smartings of his fleshly state 
 have brought him to clearer and dearer views 
 of the God of his fathers, — the adorable God 
 of his covenant. 
 
 I have only to add on this point, that the 
 natural and necessary influence of these two 
 
THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIOXS. 259 
 
 things — communion with God, and the in- 
 spection of his character and government — 
 is to quiclven the exercise of every Christian 
 grace. In other words, to lead the Christian 
 to new faith, to new love, to new hope, to new 
 consecration. Here are nearer and clearer 
 views of God gaine,d under the operation of 
 trials. A new view of God, a new season ol 
 communion, are only new incentives to the 
 gracious aflfections of the Christian's heart. 
 But these affections grow by exercise. They 
 are strengthened, matured, perfected, by action^ 
 just like any other affection or power. And 
 thus, while afflictions drive the Christian to 
 the resources of God, and bring him to more 
 intimate acquaintance with God, and excite 
 anew his affections toward God, they are — 
 plainly — special, efficacious, precious means 
 of his growth in holiness. 
 
 Another benefit which I specify as accruing 
 to God's people from their afflictions is — spir- 
 itual comfort. 
 
 The Apostle Paul, who not only wrote under 
 the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, but from 
 the teachings of his own experience also, holds 
 such language as this : " Blessed be God, even 
 the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father 
 
260 THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 
 
 of mercies, and the God of all comfort, who 
 comforteth us in all our tribulation ; . . . . 
 for as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, 
 so our consolation also aboundeth by Christ." 
 And he also says to the Corinthian Christians, 
 " Our hope of you is steadfast, knowing' that, 
 as ye are partakers of the sufferings, so shall 
 ye be also of the consolation." 
 
 One who is not a child of God by adoption, 
 when he meets with trouble, receives no spir- 
 itual ministrations from above. His heart is 
 shut against them. Unbelief sits at the door, 
 effectually keeping away every angel of mercy 
 which a God of comfort sends. Affliction 
 either preys upon his life, and makes the whole 
 world to him a world of gloom, or he drowns 
 his trouble in the waves of business or pleasure. 
 But God has ways of comforting his afflicted 
 children which the world neither know nor 
 understand. While the heart of the believer, 
 in trouble, turns itself toward Him, He turns 
 himself toward it. While the child flees to 
 the Father, the Father smiles and embraces 
 the child. While the cry of grief is uttered 
 to Him, the ministration of Divine grace is 
 poured out. It is as when the Spirit of God 
 moved upon the face of the waters. It is as 
 the voice of Jesus upon the sea, " Peace, be 
 
THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 261 
 
 still " ; as the voice of the Master to his disci- 
 ples, " It is I ; be not afraid." 
 
 Such is the work which God effects for his 
 people in the days of their tribulation. He 
 gives them " the oil of joy for mourning ; the 
 garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness." 
 He softens the anguish of their grief. He 
 sweetens its bitterness. He tempers its sharp- 
 ness. He soothes its tumults. And after the 
 first gust of agitation is spent, he sheds abroad 
 in the heart a spirit so like that of angels, that 
 you can see there the plastic influence of the 
 same hand which has strung the harps, and 
 given the peace, of heaven. 
 
 I thank God that in my brief life I have seen 
 siich proofs of his grace ; that I have seen the 
 difference which he makes between the right- 
 eous and the wicked in their times of trouble. 
 I have witnessed many scenes of distress. I 
 have seen a godless man, in convulsive agony, 
 beside the grave of some buried hope. I have 
 seen his body and soul almost riven asunder 
 by the tempest; the world — his darling 
 world — black as very midnight ; and his 
 heavens sheeted with one vast cloud of com- 
 fortless indignation. I have watched him 
 when thus stricken to the earth ; and in a fit 
 of reckless anguish he has gathered himself up, 
 
262 THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 
 
 and then launched out, without a single dis- 
 pensation of God's mercy to his soul, upon 
 the wild waters of worldly care and diversion, 
 — that he might forget the day and the bitter- 
 ness of his affliction ; that he might sear and 
 harden the heart which could find no com- 
 fort. 
 
 But I have seen others into whose souls the 
 iron had also entered, — who had felt it as 
 keenly too, — placid and gentle under the 
 stroke ; " behaving themselves and quieting 
 themselves as a child that is weaned of his 
 mother." The blast had passed over them, 
 and they had bent beneath it ; but they arose 
 again, and, like the bruised reed, struck forth 
 their roots the more eagerly for the moisture 
 which the blast had scattered, and looked up- 
 ward the more earnestly for warmth and 
 brightness to the very heavens whence came 
 their tribulation. Yes, — I have seen them 
 brighter Christians ; better, — happier. I have 
 heard their tremulous hymns of praise to Him 
 who had tried them. I have heard them tes- 
 tify, that " as the sufferings of Christ had 
 abounded in them, so their consolation also 
 had abounded by Christ." 
 
 But there is a benefit which accrues here^ 
 
THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. ' 263 
 
 after to God's people from their worldly trou- 
 bles. 
 
 The Psalmist seems to express in very 
 marked language the idea which I would here 
 present. He says, " Make us glad according 
 to the days wherein thou hast afflicted us, and 
 the years wherein we have seen evil. Let thy 
 work appear unto thy servants, and thy glory 
 unto their children." As though he was ex- 
 pecting future joy in precise proportion to past 
 affliction ; as though he was expecting that 
 joy to come in connection with — as the result 
 of — those afflictions. Nay, more, — as though 
 he was expecting that God's "work" in those 
 afflictions would hereafter be all unravelled ; 
 the mystery, the reasons, the kindness, the op- 
 eration of it all made plain ; and that thus the 
 "^/o/*7/" of God in his dispensation of trials 
 would be made to " appear," not only to the 
 afflicted, but to others also. 
 
 The future world (the Bible warrants us in 
 saying it) is to be a world of revelation. The 
 great map of God's dealings is to be unrolled, 
 and we are to study it and understand it. We 
 are to trace out the hidden mysteries of Re- 
 demption ; the untold sufferings of Christ upon 
 the cross ; the overruling influence of God in 
 all the convulsions, and sins, and miseries of a 
 
264 THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 
 
 ruined world ; the precise bearings of all which 
 God has here brought about upon the grand 
 result of the world's regeneration. We shall 
 have made clear to us all the particulars of the 
 world's history, and see how God's finger was 
 secretly and discreetly arranging and managing 
 the whole. We shall see their reasons ; their 
 influences ; how they have all moved on, un- 
 der the control of Him who ruleth over all, 
 harmoniously, admirably, unerringly ; each 
 tributary (whether designingly or undesigning- 
 ly, willingly or unwillingly), each tributary, in 
 its time and measure, to the production of 
 those ends for which God in goodness and 
 righteousness has made and upheld the world. 
 Of course there will be unrolled before us the 
 particulars of our personal histories. The 
 child of God will review his career step by 
 step, point by point, from the cradle onward. 
 Forgotten events, — events at the very time of 
 their occurrence almost unnoticed, — all will be 
 brought up before him in heaven, and all their 
 reasons and their subtle influences disclosed. 
 The bearings of every connection and relation 
 in life, and of their character, and of their rup- 
 ture, will stand out before him with perfect 
 distinctness. He will see how God led him 
 into them all, and arranged them all, and 
 
THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 265 
 
 timed them all, and managed them all. He 
 will see also how they served, each one in its 
 own place and measure, to secure his salvation, 
 to mould and perfect his spirit in the likeness of 
 God. The necessity of his afflictions^ there- 
 fore, will appear. He will see their gentle- 
 ness, their wisdom, their perfect fitness to his 
 wants, their productive influence upon his 
 heavenly glory. He will see how each one 
 did something in the precious work of attun- 
 ing his heart to the heavenly song, — of fitting 
 his brow for the heavenly crown. He will see 
 how every secret sigh, and tear, and weariness, 
 was allotted to him for the express purpose 
 of his preparation for glory ; and how they 
 wrought out that purpose ; and how for that 
 purpose they could not have been spared. 
 And as he traces out all these particulars, — 
 as the " work of God appears" herein, — how 
 like a flood will be the disclosure of God's 
 wondrous glory I How enrapturing will be 
 the demonstration of God's tender mercy, of 
 his accurate loving-kindness, in the whole ! 
 This is the fountain of the " gladness " of the 
 saints, — the outflowing revelation of the good- 
 ness and holiness of Him who sitteth on the 
 throne ; of Him whom they love and adore. 
 And as each specific trouble of their weary pil- 
 
266 Tllli RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 
 
 grimage comes up before them with its inter- 
 pretation, and as each interpretation thereof 
 elicits a new radiance from the character of 
 God, so will a new thrill of blissful emotions 
 inspire the saint who sees, and a new anthem 
 of praise from his burning lips will swell up- 
 ward unto Him who hath redeemed by blood 
 
 " It is the Lord whose matchless skill 
 Can from afflictions raise 
 Matter eternity to fill 
 With ever-growing praise." 
 
 Thus most truly, most emphatically, most 
 wondrously, will the saints be "made glad" 
 precisely " according to the days wherein God 
 has afflicted them, and the years wherein they 
 have seen evil." Thus most wondrously are 
 their present afflictions working together for 
 their good. 
 
 When you go out at the opening of the 
 morning, the dews lie beneath your feet so 
 pure, so fresh, so brilliant, that you might al- 
 most think " an angel had scattered pearls 
 from heaven " to cheer you with a sweet token 
 of his unseen ministry, or with a pure memo- 
 rial of his own home. But they are gone. 
 They have gathered themselves together in the 
 cloud, and come back to you with thunder 
 and lightning and tempest. They veil the 
 
THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 267 
 
 light of the sun and fill you with agitation. 
 But you look again, and behold I there they are, 
 set before you in all the glory of the bow of 
 promise stretching itself over the heavens, and 
 again filling you with wonder and gladness, 
 — again displaying to you the goodness of 
 God. 
 
 Just so the worldly beauties in which the 
 Christian delights are ravished from him ; and 
 there gather about him the clouds of distress 
 and affliction. But lo ! when this is finished, 
 a glory is revealed from the very sources of 
 his disappointment brighter than the blessing 
 of the morning. In the very events which 
 ministered his affliction he shall behold a dis- 
 play of God's glory yielding him infinite com- 
 pensation for the bitterness of his trial. 
 
 Times of trouble are times of honesty. 
 Then men act without art. The prevailing 
 temper of the spirit is developed. The lover 
 of the world will turn to the world for relief. 
 The lover of God, to God. When the heart 
 most feels its weakness and dependence, then 
 it -yearns most sensibly after that in which it 
 trusts. And never does it feel its weakness 
 and dependence more than in the days of its 
 tribulation. If, now, it is true that afflictions 
 
 18 
 
268 THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 
 
 work together for good to them that love God 
 and if it is true that special intercourse with 
 God and special comforts are — to such — the 
 sure fruits of afflictions, then it is plain that 
 they who experience these blessings love God, 
 and that they who do not experience them do 
 not love him. 
 
 Does a man in the hour of sorrow betake 
 himself to the throne of grace ? Does he go 
 there in the spirit of confidential fellowship ? 
 Does he throw himself upon God with the 
 spirit of a sorrowing, affectionate, trustful 
 ■ child ? Does he find that the hour of trouble 
 is an hour when he cries, " Abba, Father," with 
 unwonted emotion ? when bis soul seems 
 melted within him by the lively fervor of his 
 secret communion ? Does he thus grow in 
 grace ? 
 
 Does he find that there is an unseen arm 
 buoying him up amid the billows ? that there 
 is a. soothing balm upon his wounds ? that 
 there seems to be another fountain opened 
 within him of peace and quietness mingling 
 with the fountain of his grief? Does he find 
 that " the secret of the Almighty is with him " ? 
 and the witness of the Spirit ? and a sweet 
 concord of thoughts and feelings and affections 
 blending themselves with the decrees and al- 
 
THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 269 
 
 lotments of God ? Does he thus find comfort 
 from God ? 
 
 Surely that man must love God. Surely 
 there must be a medium of communication, a 
 bond of union, between him and God, which 
 cannot exist without love. 
 
 Again, — does a man go through trouble 
 without fleeing to the mercy-seat ? or, if he 
 goes there, is it without nearness of access ? 
 Does his afHiction excite him to no exercise 
 of trust in God, or of the spirit of adoption ? 
 Does his heart ache and throb, and ache and 
 throb without consolation ? Is his grief ex- 
 hausted rather than soothed? Is he conscious 
 that there is something which might befit his 
 case which he has not ? that there is a spot 
 within him which no balm as yet has reached? 
 Is it thus evident that he gets no good, either 
 of grace or of comfort, from his trouble ? 
 How plain it is, — how very plain, — if the 
 testimony of Scripture is true, that that man 
 does not love God. Why ! either there is an 
 error of doctrine in the Bible, or there is an 
 error in his heart. Either there is an error of 
 doctrine in the Bible, or he is in an error if he 
 thinks that he loves a holy God. 
 
 Perhaps you have been bowed under the 
 rod of your Heavenly Father. You have 
 
270 THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 
 
 buried children or parents, husband or wife, 
 brother or sister. Many a cord which has 
 wound tightly about you has been torn asun- 
 der. Many a melancholy breach has been 
 made in the circle of your domestic affections. 
 The arrows of the Almighty have entered 
 deep into your spirit. Go back now, and call 
 up the memory of your wounds. Bring to 
 mind the seasons of your by-gone griefs. Did 
 they do you good? Did they impel you to 
 God ? Did they urge you to those exercises 
 of heart which are the graces of the Holy 
 Spirit ? Did they prove to you seasons of 
 consolation ? seasons when the voice of God, 
 and the name of God, and the promises of 
 God, were life and spirit to you ? And now, 
 as you open your wounds afresh, — as you 
 think of the love and endearment of those who 
 lie waiting for you in the grave, — what is the 
 influence thereof upon you? Fresh grief, — 
 fresh tears, — I know. But what is the influ- 
 ence otherwise ? Do they do you good now ? 
 With the memory of your bereavements, does 
 there also steal over your agitated heart some- 
 thing like the light of God's countenance? 
 something like the subduing, tranquillizing in- 
 fluence of the Holy Spirit ? Or was it difler- 
 ent with you when the rod smote you ? And 
 is it different now ? 
 
THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 271 
 
 One thought more. We are born to trou- 
 ble. Go through life without it, we cannot. 
 This world is not our home. It is not our 
 rest. And even those who, " in their lifetime^ 
 received their good things," bear many a bur- 
 den ; meet many a bereavement ; give up 
 many a darling blessing before they go down 
 to their graves. Are you " without God in 
 the world " ? However bright your prospects, 
 however strong the towers of your expecta- 
 tions, however sanguine your worldly hopes, 
 you will find them all changed. Your pros- 
 pects will grow dark. Your towers will crum- 
 ble, piecemeal, to their foundations. Your 
 hopes will fade away and depart, like the hope 
 of the hypocrite, like the giving up of the 
 ghost. Take to your bosom a companion for 
 your journey ; the tie which binds you to her 
 is like the spider's web. Rejoice in the chil- 
 dren around your board ; death covets them 
 for their very loveliness, and spreads his toils 
 to catch them. If you live to the full age of 
 man, you will part with many a worldly com- 
 fort ; you will follow in the funeral train of 
 many whom you love ; you will feel many an 
 arrow enter your heart. Nay, it may be that, 
 when you come to stand upon the last limit 
 of your pilgrimage, you will stand there like 
 
272 THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 
 
 the tree of the forest whose fellows have fallen 
 around it ; alone, — blighted ; to mock, by the 
 decrepitude and imbecility and friendlessness 
 of old age, the pride and glory and expectation 
 of man. And then must come the last day of 
 your distress, of your weakness, of your neces- 
 sity ; the day when you must go to meet your 
 misdeeds and your God. 
 
 It will be a bitter thing for you if you en- 
 counter the successive evils of life, and get no 
 good from them. It will be hard for you to 
 bury your worldly blessings, and part with 
 your worldly hopes, if with these afflictions 
 you get no blessing. If the seasons of your 
 troubles do not impel you to God to let out 
 your heart before him like a child ; if they do 
 not quicken you to the work of searching " the 
 unsearchable riches of Christ" ; if they do not 
 prove to you the occasions and the channels 
 of God's comforting ministrations ; then it will 
 be terribly hard to endure them ; it will be in- 
 deed a weary thing to live and a bitter thing 
 to die. And this will be your lot, — this must 
 be your lot, — if you do not turn unto God. 
 Sanctified afflictions are the portion of those 
 only who love God ; of " them who are the 
 called according to his purpose." 
 
 Now, then, there is a distinct and thriUing 
 
THE RESULTS OF AFFLICTIONS. 273 , 
 
 argument in every contingency of life, in every 
 earthly peril which besets you. There is a 
 voice speaking to you from every point of hope 
 and promise which is before you, pleading 
 with you to enter into covenant with God, so 
 that — upon whatsoever spot of life you may 
 happen to stand, amid whatever desolations 
 and griefs you may happen to be cast — the 
 Spirit of God shall be with you there for your 
 comfort and sanctification ; and the angels of 
 God, with their afTectionate ministrations ; — 
 so that, however wide and drear the wilder- 
 ness where you may happen to pitch your 
 tent, the grace of God shall make it bud and 
 blossom as the rose ; — so that, however fear- 
 ful the fire into which perchance you may be 
 thrown, it shall purge you to the beauty and 
 glory of an angel of light. 
 
 I beseech you, then, by the mercies of the 
 Lord ; by the mercies which he is able and 
 willing to dispense to you in the days of your 
 coming want ; by all the necessity and the 
 piteous helplessness of a soul when it is 
 stricken by the hand of God ; that you present 
 yourself unto him a living sacrifice, soul and 
 body. Give him your heart. Give him your 
 love. Give him your confidence. Give him 
 your fellowship. Else he will never give you 
 
M74l the results of afflictions. 
 
 his confidence, nor his fellowship, nor his 
 love. Else he will leave you — he must — to 
 buffet with the surges of your adversities alone» 
 — comfortless. Else he will never turn them 
 to the profit of your soul. Else he will make 
 them interpreters of himself before your eyes 
 hereafter, not to your joy and glory, but to 
 your shame and everlasting contempt. Else 
 you will go down to your grave and to your 
 retribution,'accountable for all the offered com- 
 forts of God, and for all the lessons of your 
 days of affliction. 
 
 THE END. 
 
DATE DUE 
 
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