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GLIMPSES 
 
 TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS 
 
 REV. OCTAVIUS WINSLOW, D.D., 
 
 ADTHOR OF "THE GLORY OF THE REDEEMER," "MIDNIGHT H ARMORIES,'' JtC . &0. 
 
 "Behold, he staudeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, showing 
 himself through the lattice." — Sol. Song, ii. 9. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 LINDSAY & BLAklSTON. 
 
 1856. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The title of the present volume will sufficiently 
 explain its character and design. Unlike the 
 previous productions of the same pen, it presents 
 no continuity of subject, — each chapter forming a 
 uniting link in the chain of the discussion ; but it 
 exhibits a variety of themes, having no essential 
 relation to each other, save that which the rays of 
 light may be said to possess — each flowing from 
 the same source, and converging to the same centre. 
 The Lord Jesus Christ is the Sun of the Christian 
 system. He is the Fountain and the embodiment 
 of all divine and spiritual truth. Every truth 
 proceeds from, and leads to, him. The mind is 
 furnished with real knowledge in proportion to its 
 advance in the ' knowledge of Christ Jesus.' We 
 hesitate not emphatically to affirm, that there is 
 absolute darkness in the soul of man — be his 
 attainments in human knowledge profound and 
 brilliant as they may — if "God who commanded 
 
 (iii) 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 the light to shine out of darkness, hath not shined 
 in his heart to give the light of the knowledge of 
 the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." Oh ! 
 what is the real value of all his boasted knowledge 
 apart from this? "What though the philosopher 
 has ransacked all the mysteries of nature, if he is 
 yet ignorant of the God of nature, as revealed 
 through Christ? "What though the astronomer 
 revels amidst the glories of the material heavens, 
 if he is experimentally unacquainted with the path 
 by which he may arrive at the glories of the heaven 
 of heavens ? What though the geometrician may 
 be able to measure all quantity, if he has not 
 bestowed a serious thought upon the measureless 
 eternity upon which he is soon to enter? And 
 what though the physician, skilled in the science 
 of healing, is able to baffle every form of bodily 
 disease, if he has no knowledge, in the cure of his 
 own moral distemper, of the balm that is in Gilead, 
 and of the Physician w^ho is there ? We ask, what 
 real good, as it regards themselves, does it avail ? 
 None whatever. See the vanity of all human 
 knowledge, weighed with the momentous interests 
 of an eternal world, save that which makes us " wise 
 unto salvation." 
 
 It has been the aim of the writer in the following 
 pages to exhibit this all-important truth, promi- 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 nently and in various points of light. The work, 
 in consequence, may be found to address itself 
 more immediately to an unrenewed state of mind, 
 or to a mind theoretically, but not experimentally, 
 acquainted with the gospel, than perhaps may 
 please the taste, or realize the expectation of some. 
 Nevertheless, the writer trusts, that minds matured 
 in grace may here and there obtain a glimpse of 
 Jesus and of his truth — dim and imperfect though 
 it may be — which, with the accompanying blessing 
 of the Holy Spirit, will instruct and comfort, sanc- 
 tify and stimulate the soul in the heavenly way. 
 
 It is proper briefly to allude to the history of this 
 w^ork. Scotland is its birth-place. It contains the 
 substance of a few discourses which the author 
 delivered from the pulpit of different Christian 
 denominations, during a recent visit to that mag- 
 nificent and interesting land. Yielding to the 
 desire of several, for whom he cherishes the ten- 
 derest Christian love — albeit, in this instance, he 
 may not commend the partiality of their judgment 
 — they are snatched from assigned oblivion, and 
 now appear in another, and a permanent form. 
 The author has no idea that the solicitation of 
 friends to publish is always a valid plea for inflict- 
 ing a new volume upon the public. ]^or has it in 
 the present case, he thinks, blinded his eye to the 
 1* 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 very imperfect manner in which he has performed 
 his task. And 3^et but for this prompting, which he 
 would fain trace to a higher influence, he had never 
 undertaken it. If, however, the same blessed Spirit 
 who condescended to speak by these truths from 
 the pulpit, will, to the same extent, speak by them 
 from the press, the utmost wish of the author's heart 
 will be granted. He cannot refrain from saying, that 
 his work is literally ushered into the world upon the 
 breath of prayer. The intimations which he has re- 
 ceived from various quarters, of the especial and 
 fervent supplications which have been made in its be- 
 half, encourage him to hope that much glory to the 
 Lord will accrue from this feeble production of his pen. 
 The author cannot close this allusion to the origin 
 of his volume, without being permitted to remark, 
 that one^ who earnestly pleaded for its publication, 
 has since then passed away from earth, to the world 
 of full revelation, of complete holiness, and of per- 
 fect love. The event has had the effect, he trusts, 
 of imparting to his own mind, in tracing these 
 pages, more vivid and realizing views of eternity. 
 Strange though it may appear, he has felt a con- 
 sciousness of her nearness, more palpable and sweet, 
 than when last he bowed with her at the throne of 
 grace, and in the midst of her own domestic circle. 
 The home of the glorified is of more easy access, in 
 
PREFACE. vn 
 
 the spirit's travel, than any home of earth. In the 
 realization of faith, and in the anticipations of hope, 
 and in the yearnings of love, Heaven is a nearer 
 point than Kennet. It is with the immaterial that 
 we have communion ; it is with mind that we con- 
 verse ; it is with spirit that we hlend. And the more 
 full their development, and the more complete their 
 nature, the sweeter is the intercourse, and the higher 
 is the enjoyment. And ^-et, though thus exercising 
 that " faith which is the substance of things hoped 
 for, the evidence of things not seen," we are forced 
 to exclaim, " the mystery of the invisible world ! 
 Where are the loved, the beautiful, and the holy, 
 who have flitted from us and have disappeared ? 
 Do they know us — do they see us — do they attend 
 us — do they love us still ?" But this we do know — 
 that they are holy and happy, for they are with 
 Christ, and are like him. And of this, too, w^e may 
 be well assured, that to us the awful mystery will 
 soon be explained ; and we who are now wondering 
 at the departed, will be Svondered at,' for we shall 
 mingle with the ' spirits of just men made perfect,' 
 ' knowing even as we are known.' But let us follow 
 her, as she followed Christ. She loved the Lord — 
 she lived for the Lord — and she waited and looked 
 for the comino; of the Lord — and now she is forever 
 with the Lord. She needs not these partial and 
 
Vm PKEFACE. 
 
 shadowy * glimpses of the truth as it is in Jesus;' 
 for the full, the unclouded vision of the Lamb is 
 hers. She has passed within the vail, whither the 
 Forerunner had for her entered, and she has ' come 
 to Jesus the Mediator of the 'New Covenant,' and she 
 sees him, — not 'through a glass darkly,' — but face 
 to face. Her posture was always that of a lowly 
 sinner, leaning in simple faith upon the atoning work 
 of Immanuel. Her natural amiability and loveliness, 
 great and admired as they were, never concealed 
 from her view the plague of her own heart, nor 
 beguiled her from the great truth, that only as she 
 stood in the righteousness of the incarnate Son, 
 could she appear with acceptance in the presence of 
 the holy Lord God. Never was there an instance 
 of more entire laying down of self at the foot of the 
 cross, drawing from it the motives that led to a 
 simple and unreserved surrender to the Lord. Thus 
 clothed in the '' righteousness of God," w^e believe 
 that she is ' without fault before the throne,' adoring 
 the grace that brought her there. 
 
 Leamington Spa. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CPIAPTER I. 
 
 THK VOICE OP THE CHARMER PAGE 11 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ALONE WITH JESUS 36 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE pastor's request FOR THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK 61 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A WORD IN SEASON FROM CHRIST TO THE WEARY 99 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT.. 126 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BROKEN CISTERNS 154 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY, 186 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER 224 
 
 (ix) 
 
GLIMPSES OF THE TRUTH. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 
 
 "Which will not hearken to the voice of charmers, charming never so 
 wisely." — Psalm Iviii. 5. 
 
 How glorious is the nature, and what an inesti- 
 mable blessing to man, socially and individually 
 considered, is the Gospel of Christ! It is a 
 revelation of the most stupendous expedient, and 
 a solution of the profoundest problem that ever 
 interested the heart, or engaged the thought 
 of the Eternal Mind. The salvation of guilty 
 man secured in a way consistent with infinite 
 holiness — the claims of stern justice reconciled 
 w^th the pleadings of divine mercy — the moral 
 government of God vindicated — and love, the 
 favourite perfection of his nature, indulged — 
 form the one sublime and precious theme of 
 which it speaks in strains of new-born and un- 
 heard-of melody. "Well does the Holy Spirit 
 entitle it, the '^glorious Gospel of the blessed 
 God." Thus, w^hile this Gospel is to the sinner 
 the golden chain of grace low^ered to the very 
 depth of his wretchedness and woe, it is an all-en- 
 
 (11) 
 
12 THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 
 
 circling shield thrown around the purity and the 
 honour of that Being to whose nature it assimilates, 
 and to whose communion it lifts him. 
 
 And yet, strange to saj^, man, the only creature 
 personally interested in this wondrous revelation, is 
 of all intelligences the least astonished at its glories, 
 or affected by its appeals. Angels scan its mysteries, 
 and adore — devils believe its announcements, and 
 tremble ; but man, whom it most deeply concerns, 
 and to whom it is especially sent, " will not hearken 
 to the voice of charmers, charming never so wisel}^" 
 May the Spirit of truth and love impart his own 
 blessing, while we proceed to consider the nature of 
 the gospel charm, and the guilt and consequences 
 of its wilful neglect. 
 
 By every reflective and right-thinking mind, the 
 gospel Avill be regarded as the most invaluable boon 
 God ever bestowed upon our nation, while its with- 
 drawal would be the greatest calamity that could 
 arrest its prosperity and blight its happiness. The 
 unenlightened philosopher, the political economist, 
 and the wily statesman, may dispute the justness of 
 this sentiment; but man's unbelief cannot invali- 
 date God's truth. Let God be true, and every man 
 whose opinions contravene His veracity, be a liar, 
 rather than that God were false. The gospel has 
 made us, as a nation, all that we are — great, privi- 
 leged, and free. Her greatness, her privileges, and 
 her freedom, Britain owes not to the wisdom of her 
 legislation, to the influence of her letters, or to the 
 prowess of her arms ; but to Christianity, and to 
 
THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 13 
 
 Christianity alone. But for this, she had still been 
 Massed with the idolatrous nations of the east. 
 When the great apostle of the Gentiles planted his 
 foot upon her shores, and, amidst the heathen fanes 
 and idolatrous shrines consecrated to "Woden, to 
 Thor, and to Tuesco, proclaimed the gospel of 
 Jesus Christ, he laid the foundation of all her future 
 glory. And although there have been periods in 
 her remarkable history when the pale star of Popery 
 has seemed in the ascendant, and the sun of gospel 
 truth has for a while been obscured, yet the morn- 
 ing has again dawned — a "morning without 
 clouds" — and emerging from beneath the veil of 
 night, it has shone forth with increased power and 
 splendour, covering with overwhelming defeat 
 every attempt to banish it from the land. And so it 
 will continue to confound its enemies until the last 
 conquest it achieves shall usher in the coming of the 
 Son of man. We might also adduce the history of 
 the Western World as affording another evidence 
 of the gospel as a national blessing. Contrast the 
 present elevated moral, intellectual, and social 
 condition of America, with the period, but recent, 
 when the Indian paddled his canoe along her 
 majestic waters, and the smokeof his rude wigwam, 
 and the yell of his senseless worship, rose amid the 
 stillness and the gloom of his unbroken forests; 
 and to the inquiry, " What has so rapidlj^ advanced 
 and so far elevated her in the scale of civilized na- 
 tions?" we unhesitatingly reply, " the glorious gospel 
 of the blessed God," planted upon her shores by the 
 
14 THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 
 
 labours, and nourished by the prayers, the sacrifices, 
 and the tears of the Pilgrim Fathers, " of whom' 
 the world was not w^orthy." We have made and 
 have given this prominence to these remarks, feeling 
 their importance and necessity. There exists a 
 marvellous tendency to undervalue the influence of 
 Christianity as a great national blessing. Civiliza- 
 tion, education, and science are thrust forward, as 
 though all our greatness and true glory had been 
 achieved by, and would be perpetuated through, them. 
 It is alarming to think of the progress which these 
 semi-infidel views are making. But as the gospel 
 alone made, so the gospel alone can preserve us 
 w^hat we are. Christianity is the basis of our insti- 
 tutions, and the bulwark of our strength. Our very 
 existence as a nation depends upon it. The setting 
 of this sun, to change the figure, would be the pre- 
 cursor of a fearful night of moral and intellectual 
 gloom, the signal for every foul spirit of darkness 
 to emerge from his hiding-place, and stalk in 
 triumph through the land. Let us hold fast the 
 pure gospel. Nothing but its diffusion can retain it 
 in our midst, l^o civil power can preserve it. It 
 must take hold on the masses, it must enthrone it- 
 self on the hearts, embody itself in the intellects, 
 and incorporate itself with the habits of the people. 
 To attain this end, we must circulate the Bible, sus- 
 tain the divine institution of the Christian ministry, 
 live the gospel individualh% and be more earnest 
 and united in prayer for a deeper baptism of the 
 Holy Spirit upon our churches. But it is of the 
 
THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 15 
 
 relation of man to the gospel, as an individual, and 
 not as a societ}^, we are particularly to speak in the 
 present chapter. 
 
 And in the foreground let us contemplate tlie 
 eliarming Saviour whom the gospel reveals, — the 
 Saviour of God's providing, and in all points of 
 view a gift worthy of so great and glorious a Giver. 
 There are two passages of God's word which convey 
 to the mind the most forcible and exalted views 
 of the personal excellence and dignity of the Lord 
 Jesus, at which we may give a rapid glance. The 
 first portrays his matchless beauty, the second his 
 incomprehensible greatness. " Thou art fairer than 
 the children of men : grace is poured into thy lips ; 
 therefore God hath blessed thee for ever," Psal. xlv. 
 2. This doubtless refers to the perfection of his 
 human excellence. As man his beauty transcends 
 the comeliest of human beings — " fairer than the 
 children of men." Their beauty is mixed ; his is pure. 
 Theirs is derived ; his is from himself. Theirs 
 decays; his is imperishable. His body prepared by 
 God ; his mind filled Vv'ith all the wisdom, grace, 
 and holiness of the Spirit, — he stands forth the 
 "bright and morning star," the perfect, peerless 
 Son of man. O for an eye to see and admire his 
 excellence ! and not admire only, but to imitate. 
 for grace to lie at his feet, and learn from his 
 meekness ! to lean on his bosom and drink of his 
 love; to set the Lord always before us, never mov- 
 ing the eye from this perfect model, but ever aiming 
 to transcribe its lineaments upon our daily life. 
 
16 THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 
 
 Yes ! thou art "fairer than the children of men !" 
 thou altogether lovely One ! And as I gaze upon 
 thy perfections, wandering from beauty to beauty, 
 my admiration increases, and my love deepens, 
 •until, in the assurance of faith, and in the transport 
 of joy, I exclaim, " this is my Beloved, and this is 
 my Friend." 
 
 Eespecting his superior nature, not less clear and 
 emphatic is the declaration of his essential great- 
 ness. " No man knoweth the Son but the Father," 
 Matt. xi. 27. Surely these words are sufficient to 
 remove all doubt as to his Deity. Were he only 
 man, with what truth could it be affirmed of him, 
 that " no man knoweth the Son ?" It is the 
 property of an angel, that he understands the 
 angelic nature ; and of man, that he understands 
 the human nature. It is the perfection of God that 
 He only understands the nature of God. Who, 
 then, but the Infinite, can measure the infinite 
 greatness of the Son of God ? The loftiest created 
 imagination, the mightiest human intellect, the 
 profoundest angelic research, falls infinitely short 
 of what he is. The Father alone knoweth the Son, 
 because he is of the same nature and mind with the 
 Father. Beware of holding this doctrine lightly. 
 A more important one — one more glorious or more 
 precious, asks not the confidence of your faith. 
 Ilold it fast, even as the vessel in the storm clings 
 to its anchor. This gone, the next mountain wave 
 drives you upon the quicksand of doubt and 
 perplexity, and then w^here are you ? Consider how 
 
THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 17 
 
 important must be that single trutb, on which the 
 vahie, the preciousness, and the efficacy of all other 
 truths depend. Such a truth is the Godhead of 
 Christ. 
 
 How glorious an object, then, is this Saviour, 
 whom the gospel thus reveals ! It is true his 
 essential greatness, like the peace which he himself 
 gives, " surpasseth all understanding ;" j-et like that 
 peace, he may be known, though he cannot be 
 measured. "We may know experimentally," as 
 Owen beautifully remarks, " that which we cannot 
 know comprehensively ; w^e may know that in its 
 power and effect, which we cannot comprehend in 
 its nature and depths. A weary person may receive 
 refreshment from a spring, who cannot fathom the 
 depth of the ocean from w^hence it proceeds." 
 That this is true of the "love of Christ, which 
 surpasseth knowledge," is equally true of the person 
 of Christ himself, whom " no man knoweth but the 
 Father." Think not that all his beauty is con- 
 cealed. They, in whom it has pleased the Father 
 to reveal his Son, " behold his glory ;" they " see the 
 King in his beauty;" the discovery of his excel- 
 lence often captivates their soul, and the sense of his 
 love often cheers their hearts ; while in lively faith 
 and joy they exclaim, " I am my Beloved's, and my 
 Beloved is mine." 
 
 Take one more view of Him who is the " chief 
 
 among ten thousand." Look at his sinless, yet real 
 
 humanity ; without a single taint, yet sympathizing 
 
 with all the conditions of ours : afflicted in our 
 9 * 
 
18 THE VOICE OF THE CHAKMEE. 
 
 afflictions; tempted in our temptations; infirm in 
 our infirmities ; grieved in our griefs ; '' wounded 
 for our transgressions, bruised for our iniquities ;" 
 and now that he is in glory, still cherishing a 
 brother's heart, bending down his ear to our 
 petitions, ever standing near to catch our sighs, to 
 dry our tears, to provide for our wants, to guide us 
 by his counsel, and afterwards to receive us to glor}^ 
 O what a Saviour is Jesus Christ ! Wonder not, my 
 readers, that when he is known, all other beings 
 are eclipsed; that when his beauty is seen, all 
 other beauty fades ; that when his love is felt, he 
 becomes supremely enthroned in the aftections ; and 
 that to know him more, is the one desire of the re- 
 newed mind, and to make him more known, is the 
 one aim of the Christian life. 
 
 Wliat charming tidings^ too, does the gospel 
 announce ! Take the doctrine of Pardon, the very 
 mention of which thrills the soul with gladness. 
 Pardon through the blood-shedding of God's dear 
 Son for "all manner of sin," and for the chief of 
 sinners ! What myriads have gone to glory, 
 exulting with their expiring breath in those 
 melodious words, " the blood of Jesus Christ his 
 Son cleanseth us from all sin ! " Is there no music 
 in this declaration to the ear of a sin-burdened 
 soul ? And when the called children of God behold 
 in that blood of Immanuel the sea which has 
 drowned all their sins, the fountain which has 
 cleansed all their guilt, the source of their recon- 
 ciliation, the cause of their peace, and the ground 
 
THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 19 
 
 of their access, — is not the gospel a joyful sound to 
 their ears ? And yet how few live in the full enjoy- 
 ment of this truth, — " Thou will cast all my sins 
 behind thy back." "Thou hast forgiven all their 
 iniquity." "I have blotted out as a cloud thy 
 transgressions, and as a thick cloud thy sins." 
 Precious truth ! Since God hath spoken it, faith 
 exclaims, " I believe it. On this I can live holily, 
 and on this I can die happily." 
 
 The gospel speaks, too, of a Righteousness, 
 which places the believing sinner in a state of 
 complete justification — a righteousness better than 
 that of Moses, and superior to that of angels, because 
 it is the "righteousness of God himself." Among 
 the many glorious names which our Immanuel bears 
 is, " Jehovah our Righteousness." He is made from 
 God the righteousness of his people, 1 Cor. i. 30. 
 As their law-fulfiller, obeying; as their surety, 
 suffering in their stead, they become the righteous- 
 ness of God in Him, 2 Cor. v. 21 ; so that the very 
 name itself which Jesus bears in connexion with 
 our justification becomes ours. "In those days 
 shall Judah be saved, and Jerusalem shall dwell 
 safely : and this is the name by which she shall be 
 called, Jehovah our Righteousness," Jer. xxxiii. 16. 
 Thus the believer wears the clothing, and takes the 
 name of Him, Avho is emphatically the husband of 
 his Church. See how co7nplete she is in him, — 
 Colos. ii. 10. How glorious, — Eph. v. 7. How 
 comely, Ezek. xvi. 14. In this righteousness she is 
 exalted^ Psal. Ixxxix. 16; and in this it is lier 
 
20 THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 
 
 privilege greatly to rejoice^ Isa. Ixi. 10. Is this 
 righteousness yours, my reader? Have you cast 
 aside the defiled, worm-eaten garment in which by 
 nature you stand ; and are you clothed in the fine 
 linen, clean and white, which is the righteousness 
 of the saints ? Rev. xix. 8. Search and see ! You 
 may have gone far in a profession of Christ, in a 
 visible enrolment among his people ; and yet were 
 the King to enter the banqueting-room where you 
 sit partaking the symbols of his death, to see the 
 guests, it is possible that in view of his solemn, 
 searching inspection, you may be found not having 
 on the righteousness of Christ. But if you have 
 renounced your own merits, and have fled entirely 
 from yourself to Jesus, then to this sweet note of the 
 joyful sound, your heart responds, exclaiming, " In 
 the Lord have I righteousness;" ''My soul shall 
 make her boast in the Lord ; the humble shall hear 
 thereof and be glad." Standing in this perfect, 
 spotless robe, you will aim after a life correspond- 
 ing, with a privilege so exalted; and whether liv- 
 ing or dying, you will be openly and manifestly the 
 Lord's. 
 
 A Free Grace voice will possess a charm to the 
 spiritual ear which no word of man can fully 
 express, — and this is the true idea of the gospel. 
 But for this, what charm to a convinced sinner 
 would the gospel of Jesus possess ? How could the 
 rest, the privileges, and the blessings of this great 
 charter of divine mercy raise a solitary emotion of 
 gladness in the heart, were they not the gratuities 
 
THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 21 
 
 of the God of grace? What music, think yon, to 
 the ear of a condemned felon would be the pardon 
 of his sovereign, were it upon terms which the very 
 circumstances of his case rendered unavailable? 
 "What a cruel mockery would it be of his helpless- 
 ness, and what a bitter taunting of his woe ! But 
 stand upon the threshold of his gloomy cell, and 
 read to him in tones worthy of the announcement, 
 a free, unconditional pardon ; throw wide open his 
 door, knock off his chains, and " say to the prison- 
 er, Go forth," with no obligations imposed, but such 
 as boundless goodness would dictate, and such as 
 deathless gratitude would recognize, — loyality to a 
 sovereign so gracious and benignant — and you do 
 indeed bear to him glad tidings. You irradiate his 
 dark dungeon with brightness, and you fill his 
 desolate heart with joy. Such are the tidings 
 which the Gospel proclaims. Listen to it — 
 mellifluent are its accents: ^'By grace are ye 
 saved through faith, and that not of yourselves, 
 it is the gift of God." " It is of faith that it might 
 be b}^ grace." "Without money and without 
 price." "And when they had nothing to pay, he 
 frankly forgave them both." "Come and take of 
 the water of life freely." Art thou a self-destroyed, 
 self-condemned, bankrupt sinner, with 7wthwg to 
 pay ? Then may you exclaim, " Never was music 
 so sweet to me as this ! Salvation free ! Eedemp- 
 tion without money! Heaven without creature 
 merit! All springing from the heart of God, 
 
22 THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 
 
 and flowing down through the channel of the 
 Saviour's merits !" 
 
 As a system of Divine and unfailing Consolation, 
 there is a charm in the gospel of Jesus of indes- 
 cribable sweetness. Originating with that God, not 
 only whose name and whose perfection, but whose 
 very essence is love, and who Himself is the " God 
 of all comfort," it must be a gospel of "strong 
 consolation " commensurate with every conceivable 
 sorrow of his people. Let those testify who, amidst 
 the trials and the conflicts of their pilgrimage, have 
 thus experienced it. Indeed it is only by this test 
 that its real character can be estimated. As we can 
 convey no adequate idea of sound to the deaf, of 
 colour to the blind, or of life to the dead, neither 
 can w^e by the most elaborate reasoning or eloquent 
 description, impart to a mind estranged from sorrow 
 — if such there be — any proper conception of the 
 magic power of the gospel, as a consummate system 
 of the richest consolation and support. But let a 
 Christian be placed in circumstances of the deepest 
 grief and sorest trial — the bread and tlie water of 
 affliction his food — the iron entering his soul — the 
 heart bereaved — the mind perplexed — the spirit dark 
 — all human hopes blighted, and creature cisterns 
 failing him like a spring in the summer's drought ; 
 then let the Spirit of God, the Divine Paraclete, 
 open this box of perfume, breathing into his soul 
 the rich consolations, the precious promises, the 
 strong assurances, the divine counsels, and the 
 glowing hopes which it contains, and in a moment 
 
THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 23 
 
 the light of love appears in his dark cloud, his 
 fainting" spirit revives, and all is peace. Oh ! that 
 must be a charming gospel which can meet the 
 necessities of man at every point ; whose wisdom 
 no human perplexity can baffle, and whose 
 resources of sympathy and comfort no case of 
 suffering or of sorrow can exhaust. Tried soul ! 
 repair to this unfailing spring of comfort. God 
 speaks to thee in it — it is the unsealing of the heart 
 of Jesus — it is the still small voice of the Spirit. 
 It speaks to thee — it bids thee " cast thy burden on 
 the Lord, and he will sustain thee ;" " Call upon 
 him in the day of trouble, and he will answer thee." 
 It assures you that amidst all your perplexing cares, 
 " He careth for you." It promises you that for 
 your flint-paved path, your " shoes shall be iron and 
 brass;" and that "as your days are, so shall your 
 strength be." It tells you that a "woman may 
 forget her sucking child, yet will not God forget 
 you ;" that in all your assaults, you " shall dwell on 
 high, your place of defence shall be the munitions 
 of rocks ;" and that though hemmed in on every 
 side by a besieging foe, and all other supplies cut 
 off, yet "your bread shall be given you, and your 
 water shall be sure." It invites you to lay your 
 griefs and weep out your sorrows upon the bosom 
 of Jesus, and so " leaning upon your Beloved, 
 ascend from the wilderness." Oh ! to be led 
 into the heart-felt experience of these truths, even 
 while passing through billows of sorrow to a 
 martyr's flames ! 
 
24 THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 
 
 E'ot the least important and endearing element 
 of the Gospel to a believer's heart, is its Holiness. 
 All its truths to him are precious, because the 
 tendency of all is to sanctify. What to him were 
 its soothing consolations dissevered from its holy 
 precepts ? What were its comfort, if that comfort 
 were secured at the expense of holiness ? What 
 though it dried his tears, but subdued not his cor- 
 ruptions ? What though it assuaged the fountain 
 of his grief, while it left that of his sins unchecked ? 
 Its greatest charm were gone ! No ; he would 
 desire guidance, instruction, and consolation, only 
 so far as they advanced his divine conformity. He 
 longs, he pants, he prays, to be a holi/ child of God. 
 That he so often and so far misses his mark — that 
 he is so frequently foiled, disappointed, and forced 
 back, in his strivings after sauctification, is to him 
 the bitterest of bitter sorrows. But when at any 
 time, and in any degree, he is enabled through 
 grace to "do the will of God from the heart," 
 and when in the great conflict of faith he advances 
 to the foe, and covers that advance with glory, or 
 retreats only to eclipse the glory of his advance, a 
 shout more full of music never rose to heaven, than 
 that which breaks from his adoring hps, " Thanks 
 be to God who giveth us the victory, through our 
 Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 The "charmers," from whose lips this divine 
 melody proceeds, are the true ministers of Christ, 
 whom he has chosen, called, and furnished with 
 grace and gifts, and to whom he has committed a 
 
THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 25 
 
 dispensation of the gospel. Their appointment is 
 from God; their succession is from Christ; their 
 anointing for, and designation to, the work are from 
 the Holy Spirit. He himself, though a minister of 
 the Lord Jesus, is but an "earthen vessel," 
 encompassed with, and often well nigh crushed by 
 the infirmity of which he is, in common with others, 
 the subject. " For every high priest taken from 
 among men, is ordained for men, in things pertain- 
 ing to God, .... who can have compassion on the 
 ignorant, and on them that are out of the way ; 
 for that he himself is compassed with infirmity," 
 Heb. V. 1, 2. He is often alarmed by the thought 
 that truth so divine and so pure should flow through 
 a channel so earthly and so defiled : and that to an 
 office so spiritual, and to a work so great, he should 
 bring grace so shallow, and attainments so limited. 
 Yet God has placed him in the office ; and although 
 tempted at times to relinquish his high trust, yet he 
 is as often deterred by the solemn voice of con- 
 science, "Woe is unto me, if I preach not the 
 gospel !'* But we would be far from conveying a 
 gloomy representation of the office and functions of 
 the Christian ministry. It is true, many, influenced 
 by sordid and unworthy motives, seek admittance 
 to the holy office ; and that these should find its 
 sacred labours distasteful and wearisome, is no 
 marvel. But there are others who can humbly 
 adopt the language of their Master, "My meat and 
 my drink are to do the will of Him that sent me, 
 and to finish his work," They delight in their 
 3 
 
26 THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 
 
 employment ; they find their rest in their toil ; and 
 they often reap their highest joy from that which is 
 the cause of their deepest sorrow. To proclaim 
 that gospel which has often charmed his own soul — to 
 preach that Jesus, at times so ]3recious to his own 
 heart — to comfort others with the comforts with 
 which he himself has been comforted by God — to 
 w^ipe a solitary tear from the eye — to chase a single 
 grief from the heart — to smooth a dying pillow — 
 to save a soul from death — to guide a saint to glory 
 — to him it were worth a million lives, were they 
 even lives of tenfold toil and trial ! With all its 
 solemn responsibilities, its wearisome labours, its 
 painful anxieties, its lonely sorrows, who would not 
 be a gospel charmer ? Who would not, like Jesus, 
 be anointed to preach good tidings unto the meek 
 — to bind up the broken hearted — to proclaim liberty 
 to the captives, and the opening of the prison to 
 them that are bound?" With such a commission, 
 and beneath such anointing, is it any marvel that 
 such a minister should, like the apostle, look down 
 from his lofty eminence with contempt upon the 
 wisdom of man and the learning of the schools, the 
 moment they clashed with the wisdom of God and 
 the glory of the cross — that he should go forth, and 
 to the lettered and the ignorant, to the polished and 
 the rude, make known nothing but Christ crucified? 
 These, then, are the " charmers." And of them the 
 sweet poet sings, — 
 
THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER 27 
 
 *' How beauteous are their feet 
 
 Who stand on Zion's hill ! 
 "Who bring salvation on their tongues, 
 
 And words of peace reveal ! 
 How charming is their voice ! 
 
 How sweet the tidings are ! 
 Zion, behold thy Saviour King ! 
 
 He reigns and triumphs here." 
 
 But what is it to " charm wisely ?" True wisdom 
 has been defined that power which accomphshes 
 the greatest results by the simplest means. Then, 
 here is wisdom ! To save souls from eternal death, 
 by the " foolishness of preaching," must be regarded 
 as the highest point to which wisdom can soar. It 
 is recorded concerning the apostles, that they " so 
 spake, that a great multitude, both of the Jews, and 
 also of the Greeks, believed." They presented 
 Christ so prominently — they divided truth so 
 skilfully — and they preached with such power, 
 point, and simplicity, that " multitudes were added 
 to the Lord." See with what contempt they looked 
 down upon the unsanctified wisdom and lore of this 
 world ! Addressing the Corinthians, their great 
 leader could say, "My speech and my preaching 
 were not with enticing words of man's wisdom, but 
 in demonstration of the Spirit and of power." Ho 
 "charmed wisely;" and by the influence of his 
 preaching, pagan altars were destroyed, senseless 
 idols were abandoned, the Pantheon and the Lj^ceum 
 were forsaken, and " a great company of the priests 
 were obedient to the faith;" but it was not with 
 
28 THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 
 
 the " wisdom of this world," in order that their 
 " faith should not stand in the wisdom of man, but 
 in the power of God." 
 
 And why may not the same results in the 
 employment of the same means be ours? Preach 
 we not the same gospel ? Deal we not with the 
 same intelligent and deathless mind ? Draw we not 
 our motives and our appeals from the same 
 eternity? True, we possess neither the spirit of 
 prophecy nor the gift of miracles. We need them 
 not. Kor did the apostles in their grand work of 
 converting men to God. They never in a single 
 instance quickened a soul by the power of a miracle. 
 The extraordinary gifts with which they were 
 endowed were bestowed for another and a different 
 purpose. The cases of our Lord and of his Fore- 
 runner are strikingly in point. The ministry of 
 Jesus, although attended by a succession of 
 miracles the most brilliant and convincing, resulted 
 in fewer conversions than the ministry of John, who 
 did no miracle. To what divine agency, then, did 
 the apostles themselves trace the extraordinary 
 result of their preaching? To what, but the 
 "demonstration of the Spirit?" for tongues of 
 fire to proclaim the glad tidings of the gospel ! 
 "With such a Saviour to make known — with such 
 revelations to disclose — with such souls to save — 
 with such results to expect — is it not marvellous 
 that we should speak with any other ? To charm 
 wisely, then, is so rightly to divide God's word, as 
 not to confound truth with error — so discrimina- 
 
THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 29 
 
 tinglj to preach it, as to separate the precious from 
 the vile — and so distinctly and prominently to hold 
 up the cross of Christ, as to save immortal souls. 
 The cross, the cross must be the central object ex- 
 hibited in our ministry, to which every eye must be 
 directed, and before which all the glory of man 
 must fade. The Holy Spirit, too, must be more 
 honoured — his anointing more especially sought — 
 and his influence more earnestly insisted upon. 
 Apart from this, no ministry, be its character in 
 other respects what it may, has any real power. 
 How poor a thing it is, distinguished only by its 
 learning, its genius, and its eloquence, and destitute 
 of the vital warmth, and impassioned earnestness, 
 and soul-subduing, and heart-awakening energy of 
 the Holy Spirit ! Weighed in the balance of the 
 sanctuary, it is as light as air; estimated in view of 
 the judgment, it is an awful mockery. 
 
 But a most solemn part of this subject remains 
 to be considered. We allude to the reception which 
 this heaven-sent message of reconciliation meets 
 from multitudes on whose external ear only its 
 accents of melody fall. The charge which God 
 brings against such resolves itself into the indict- 
 ment of a wilful neglect and rejection of this 
 immense privilege. " Who will not hearken to the 
 voice of charmers, charming never so wisely." 
 The character here alluded to has its classifications, 
 to which, lest any should be self-deceived in so m.o- 
 mentous a matter, we will briefly advert. 
 
 There are, in the first place, those who may be 
 3* 
 
30 THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 
 
 said to receive, and yet who do actually reject the 
 gospel of Jesus. Supposing ourselves addressing 
 such, we would present a line of argument some- 
 W'hat like this : — ^You are not, in the sceptical sense 
 of the term, an unbeliever. In other words, you 
 shudder at the idea, and would resent the suspicion 
 of being an infidel. You believe the Holy Scrip- 
 tures to be a divine record, Christ " a teacher come 
 from God," and the Christianity which he taught a 
 heaven-authenticated record of the doctrines to be 
 believed and the precepts to be followed, essential to 
 that "holiness without which no one can seethe 
 Lord." And yet, strange to say, notwithstanding 
 all this, you are an unbeliever. Your unbelief is of a 
 most alarming and fatal character ; more ensnaring 
 than that which saps the foundation of Christ- 
 ianity ; because, while it professes to credit its truth, 
 it practically makes it a lie, and thus fosters one of 
 the most fatal delusions that ever perilled the 
 immortal soul. Do you live as if you believed the 
 gospel to be true ? What moral influence does your 
 professed belief exert over you ? What shape and 
 colouring does it impart to your habits of reflection 
 and of feeling? You afiirm that you believe in the 
 gospel; but upon what part of your conduct is the 
 influence of that belief felt and seen ? You declare 
 that you have faith ; but where are its fruits ? 
 Alas! the moon-beams fall not more coldly and 
 powerlessly upon the sterile earth, than docs the 
 light which your intellectual faith sheds upon your 
 whole path to eternity. You live as if there were 
 
THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 31 
 
 no God — no Saviour — no heaven — no hell — no death 
 — no judgment — no eternity. Immersed in business 
 or intent upon wealth, panting for fame or eager in 
 chase of pleasure, the dread future, whose bleak, 
 rock-bound coast you are each moment nearing, is 
 all, all, forgotten. You consider yourself as a 
 rational, reasonable, and sane being. But is it 
 rational, reasonable, or sane, to merge the momen- 
 tous interests of an ever-enduring future in the 
 fleeting .shadows of a present moment ? What a 
 mere fragment of your being is your life ! Com- 
 pared with the future, it is as the particle of sand 
 which the wind lifts and wafts from the shore, or 
 like a drop of the spray which it scatters from the 
 ocean's wave. And yet see how you live ! And 
 oh, how imperfectly you measure the great work to 
 be done with the brief moment allotted to its 
 accomplishment ! You vainly imagine that it can 
 all be crowded into and accomplished within the 
 space of a dying hour, — that a business the most 
 momentous that ever engaged the thought or 
 enlisted the feelings of man, may be safel}^ deferred 
 until the period when the wasting of sickness, and 
 the fever of delirium, the madness of convulsions, 
 the writhings of pain, and the throbs and throes of 
 dissolving nature, shall task to the utmost all the 
 powers of the mind — oh, what sheer madness is 
 this ! See, then, to what your professed faith in the 
 gospel of Christ brings you ! The devils believe, 
 and tremble at what they believe. You believe, 
 and yet tremble not. Oh ! what a lie does your 
 
32 THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 
 
 whole life give to your faith ! The decided irre- 
 ligiou, worldliness, and thoughtlessness, which make 
 Tip its history, prove your faith in the gospel to be a 
 most woful deception. It may be a sound faith, as 
 far as reason and philosophy go ; but a mere assent 
 of the understanding to the truth is not the faith 
 which the truth itself requires. 
 
 There are others, w^ho profess no belief whatever 
 in the gospel of Christ. Theirs is an entire, open, 
 "undisguised rejection of this divine system of 
 truth. The atheist rejects it, in his avowed disbe- 
 lief of God's being — the infidel, when he pronoun- 
 ces the Bible a fiction, and Christianity a lie — the 
 Jew, when he exclaims, ^*not Jesus, but Barabbas" 
 — the Socinian, in his denial of the Deity of the Son 
 of God — the neologist and the transcendentalist, 
 when they betray the Saviour with a kiss : — But the 
 class is a large one. It embraces in its melancholy 
 catalogue the careless, the indifierent, the scorner, 
 the scoffer, the worldling, the impenitent, the moral- 
 ist, the pharisee, — in a word, all — be they the 
 learned, the philosophical, the intellectual, the 
 refined, or the religious, according to the world's 
 notion — all who are not born again of the Spirit, 
 and who are not exemplifying the power of the truth 
 w^hich is according to godliness. 
 
 But there is a feature in this sin which imparts to 
 it a still darker and more fearful complexion. We 
 allude to its wilfulness. There is in it the exhibi- 
 tion of a will not only totally unrenewed and un- 
 
THE VOICE OF THE CHARMER. 33 
 
 holy, but assuming an attitude of positive and 
 determined hostility to this wondrous message of 
 God's grace. Ponder the terms of this indictment: 
 — " They are like the deaf adder, that stoppeth its 
 ear ; which will not hearken to the voice of charm- 
 ers, charming never so wisely." With this corre- 
 sponds our Lord's description of the same character, 
 — "This people's heart is waxed gross, and their 
 ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes have they 
 closed ; least at any time they should see with their 
 eyes, and hear with their ears, and should under- 
 stand with their heart, and should be converted, 
 and I should heal them," Matt. xiii. 15. O it is 
 this ivilful rejection of the gospel of Jesus which 
 more than all demonstrates your deep degeneracy, 
 and constitutes the most alarming feature of your 
 sin. 
 
 We can but briefly, in conclusion, advert to the 
 appalling consequences of this wilful shutting of the 
 ear against the sound of the gospel. They are 
 most effectively told, in the w^ords of God himself. 
 Thus he describes the sin and its punishment: — 
 "But they refused to hearken, and pulled away the 
 shoulder, and stopped their ears, that they might 
 not hear. Yea, they made their hearts as an 
 adamant stone, lest they should hear the law, and 
 the w^ords which the Lord of hosts hath sent in his 
 Spirit by the former prophets ; therefore came there 
 great wrath from the Lord of hosts. Therefore it 
 is come to pass, that as he cried, and they would 
 
34 THE VOICE OF THE ClIAEMER. 
 
 not hear ; so they cried, and I would not hear, saith 
 the Lord of hosts." Zech. vii. 11—13. ponder, I 
 beseech you, reader, these awful words, and no 
 longer "pull away your shoulder" from Christ's 
 yoke, nor "stop your ears" against his voice. In 
 the New Testament, the record of mercy and of 
 love, it is fearfully written, " The Lord Jesus will 
 be revealed from heaven with his mighty angels, in 
 flaming fire, taking vengeance on them that know 
 not God, and that obey not the gospel of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ ; who shall be punished with ever- 
 lasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, 
 and from the glory of his .power." 2 Thess. i. 7 — 9. 
 Are you prepared for this ? 
 
 But not with a note of terror would we close this 
 chapter. The last vibration that lingers on your 
 ear shall be the " voice of the charmer." How rich 
 the melody ! 
 
 " In strains as sweet as angels use, 
 The gospel whispers peace." 
 
 And sweeter too, — " Ho ! every one that thirsteth, 
 come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money, 
 come ye, buy and eat : yea, come, buy wine and 
 milk without money and without price." O let 
 your ear drink in this heavenly sound ! It is God 
 himself who speaks. Every,, word is from his 
 heart. " Look unto me, all ye ends of the earth, 
 and be ye saved, for I am God, and there is none 
 else." Look unto Jesus, and not to yourselves. 
 
THE VOICE OF THE CHAEMER. 35 
 
 You stagger at your great unworthiness. What 
 were this but to suppose that you would never bo 
 otherwise ? lS[o ! Your worthiness is in Christ — 
 your merit is in Christ — your righteousness is in 
 Christ — your beauty is in Christ — your salvation is 
 in Christ — all, all is in Jesus Christ. Out of him 
 you are lost, and lost for ever. Through him, though 
 you were the vilest sinner whom the Spirit of God 
 ever drew to the feet of Jesus, you may be saved, 
 saved for ever. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 "And Jesus was left alone, and the woman standing in the midst. 
 When Jesus had lifted up himself, and saw none but the woman, 
 he said unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers ? Hath 
 no man condemned thee ? She said. No man. Lord. And Jesus said 
 unto her. Neither do I condemn thee ; go, and sin no more." — John 
 viii. 9-11. 
 
 Well did the trembling king of Israel exclaim, 
 when with an air of tender faithfulness the prophet 
 placed before him the choice of those evils which 
 should mark his sin — "Let me fall into the hand of 
 the Lord, for very great are his mercies, but let me 
 not fall into the hand of man." Every point of 
 light in which his decision can be viewed, justifies 
 both its wisdom and its holiness. It was wise : he 
 knew that the Lord was his God : as such, he had 
 long been wont to deal with him in transactions 
 the most solemn and confiding, and thus, from 
 knowledge and experience, he felt he could now 
 safely trust in him. It was lioly : he saw that God 
 was most righteous in punishing his sin, and that 
 in meekly submitting to that punishment which 
 came more immediately from the Lord, he was 
 sympathizing with the equity of the Divine 
 Government, and was upholding the character of 
 the "Judge of all the earth" as "most upright." 
 
 (3C) 
 
ALONE WITH JESUS. 37 
 
 Guided by these considerations, he would rather 
 fall into the hands of the Lord, uplifted though 
 they were to scourge. "Who has not made this 
 prayer his own, and breathed it at the footstool of 
 mercy? The "tender mercies of the wicked are 
 cruelty," but the severest corrections of our Father 
 are love. To be smitten by God is infinitely better 
 to the believer than to be blest by man. The 
 creature's aftection often brins-swith it a snare; and 
 the honour which comes from man tends to nourish 
 the corrupt principle of depraved self But what- 
 ever, in the experience of a child of God, that may 
 be which comes more directly from the Lord, it 
 brings with it its concealed but its certain and often 
 unutterable blessing ! how safe are we in the 
 Lord's hands ! Though he frown, we 3'et may love. 
 Though he scourge, we yet may cling. Though he 
 slay, we yet may trust. " I will cause thee to pass 
 under the rod, and I will bring you into the bond 
 of the covenant," "With such an issue welcome 
 the discipline that leads to it. " Let me fall into 
 the hand of the Lord, for very great are his mercies." 
 The touching narrative which has suggested these 
 reflections and the subject of this chapter, affords 
 another example of the blessedness of being exclu- 
 sively in the Lord's hands. Here was a poor 
 accused sinner rescued from the violent grasp of 
 men, and thrown in all her helplessness upon the 
 mercy of Jesus. And while the Spirit unfolds 
 the great gospel truths which it so impressively 
 illustrates, may we experience something of the 
 4 
 
88 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 blessedness and sweetness of spending an hour alone 
 with Jesus ! 
 
 The character of the scene which it portrays is 
 judicial, — the grouping natural, the objects inter- 
 esting, the whole instructive. With regard to the 
 first object which arrests our attention — the 
 prisoner at the bar — we can scarcely imagine a 
 case more calculated than this to awaken the 
 tenderest S3^mpathies of Jesus. The accused, now 
 pale and agitated, weak and trembling, was a 
 woman. A wreck of her former self though she 
 was, there still was an air of touching tenderness, 
 if not of faded beauty and grandeur, still lingering 
 amidst the ruin. This would not escape the 
 searching and discriminating glance of the Saviour. 
 She was a woman, and the acute sensibilities of her 
 sex were hers. These had indeed received a fearful 
 shock. It may be in the power of sin and crime 
 deeply to obscure and greatly to blunt the fine and 
 delicate instincts of our nature, but never totally to 
 extinguish them. They will outlive the storm that 
 may have scattered the verdure and dissipated the 
 blossom of many an opening character. The 
 external loveliness of that character may for a 
 while be shaded, but there is a deathless beauty 
 within — feelings, thoughts, purposes, and resolves, 
 which die only with the dying breath. There is a 
 class of feelings — certain sympathies and aflinities — 
 which would seem to be from their very nature 
 imperishable. God has so ordered it. A mother, 
 for example, can never forget that she is a mother. 
 
ALONE WITH JESUS. 39 
 
 The hidden fountain of feeling, unsealed in her 
 heart, is ever springing up, pure and sparkling. She 
 may wander from her home as a bird from its rest- 
 ing-place, but she will return and hover around her 
 little ones ; or she will clasp to her bosom with a 
 firmness which the wrench of death only can relax, 
 the infant that shares her wanderings and her 
 guilt. And a woman is a woman still. Sin and 
 sorrow may have beclouded the sun-light, and 
 marred the joyousness of her spirit; but there are 
 under-currents of affection and feeling which the 
 tempest that swept the surface has left untouched. 
 That keen sensibility — that gentleness — that tender- 
 ness — that instinctive delicacy and that keen sense 
 of honour — the peculiar traits of her sex — are still 
 there. The delicate stem from which has fallen the 
 beautiful flower, may bend before the blast; but 
 tenderly raise, and kindly nourish it, it will live 
 again, and bud and blossom as before. It may be 
 a truant plant, still a plant of Eden, whose tint and 
 fragrance may yet brighten and make glad the 
 garden of the heart. "We should remember this in 
 our walks and labours of benevolence. Brought, 
 as we sometimes are, into contact with extreme 
 cases of guilt and crimes, we should not overlook 
 the material we yet possess with which to repair the 
 fallen structure. No heart should be considered 
 too polluted — no mind too dark — no character too 
 debased — for the power of God, working by human 
 instrumentality, to restore. The surface may pre- 
 sent to the eye the iron features of a hardened and 
 
40 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 reckless character; nevertheless, there are springs of 
 thought and feeling and memory beneath that 
 repulsive surface, v^^hich, if touched by a skilful and 
 a delicate hand, will unlock the door of the heart, 
 and admit you within its most sacred recesses. 
 Thus with gentleness and kindness you may soften 
 the most hardened, disarm the most ferocious, calm 
 the most violent, and attain complete possession of 
 a mind that has long resisted and repelled every 
 other subduing influence. The law of love is the 
 law of God's moral government of his people. By 
 this, and by this alone, he rules them. All that is 
 disciplinary in his conduct is resolvable into love. 
 It is by kindness, " ?o?;zw^-kindness," yea ''•marvel- 
 lous loving-kindness !" that he wins back their 
 truant hearts, and binds them closer to himself. 
 *'I am the Lord who exercise loving-kindness." 
 " With loving-kindness have I drawn thee." to 
 imitate him in this particular ! — to be like God in 
 his kindness to the children of men. Then would 
 there be less sitting in the judgment-seat — less readi- 
 ness to cast the first stone — less harshness and 
 censoriousness in our conduct and spirit towards 
 others ; and more of that self-judging, self-condemn- 
 ing, and self-abasement, before the holy, heart-search- 
 ing, all-seeing Lord God, without which we may be 
 awfully self-deceived. 
 
 But what an object was here, befitting the 
 Saviour's sympathy and power ! Think you, 
 reader, that from it his pure and gentle spirit 
 shrunk ? "Would he feel terrified or polluted by so 
 
ALONE WITH JESUS. 41 
 
 close a proximity to an object of guilt and wretch- 
 edness ? Ah, no ! ' Come, ye vaunting philanthro- 
 pists of poetry and romance, who dissolve over a 
 fiction, and petrify at a reality — come, ye who have 
 your tears for imaginary woe, and recoil from con- 
 tact with true misery — who deem it pollution to 
 take kindly the hand of a poor wanderer, exclaim- 
 ing, '' Stand by, for I am holier than thou !" Come 
 ye, and learn what true philanthropy and sensi- 
 bility mean. Our Lord's was no mawkish, senti- 
 mental humanity, standing aloof from the fallen and 
 the despised, and attracting to itself only the 
 virtuous and the worthy. It was a humanity that 
 identified itself with our fall, and with all its 
 consequent miseries. Itself pure, it yet took our 
 sins ; itself happy, it yet took our sicknesses and 
 our sorrows. He came as the Saviour, and sinners 
 were the objects of his love and compassion. He 
 was a man, and to nothing that was human, but 
 its essential taint, was he a stranger. He even 
 carried our sins, as a crushing weight, upon that sin- 
 less frame ; and that heart, to which sorrow was 
 unknown, became "acquainted with grief." it 
 is wondrous to see how closely the Son of God 
 linked himself with fallen, suftering man ! Touch 
 what cord you may of the human heart, and there 
 comes up from the depths of his an instantaneous 
 and harmonious response. With what efiect would 
 some of these hidden springs of feeling in the 
 human soul of Jesus now be touched ! He would 
 remember, as his eye fell upon this trembling object 
 4^ 
 
42 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 of liis sympathy, that he himself was born of a 
 woman, amidst her perils and her pangs. He 
 would remember, too, that there still was one who 
 bore to him the endearing appellation of mother, 
 and that yet others stood to him in the fond rela- 
 tion of sisters, and all that was tender in his heart 
 would be moved. Looking at her humiliation, and 
 thinking of his own, piti/ would melt his heart; 
 and while listening to the voice of her clamourous 
 accusers, with the garden of Gethsemane and Calvary 
 full in view, her sin would stir to its centre the deep 
 fountain of his mercy. Then, O then, if ever, did 
 he appear the *' brother born for adversity." Then 
 was fulfilled the Messianic prediction in the Psalms, 
 " He shall deliver the needy when he crieth ; the 
 poor also, and him that hath no helper ; for he 
 shall stand at the right hand of the poor, to save 
 him from them that condemn his soul." 
 
 But dismissing for a moment the narrative itself, 
 let us turn our attention to the gospel instruction 
 which it unfolds. The truths which it illustrates 
 are of the deepest moment. It brings vividly 
 before the mind the case of a soul under the con- 
 viction and condemnation of the law, standing in 
 the presence of Jesus, awaiting his solemn decision. 
 We are now approaching that period of a man's 
 life, upon which depend the complexion of his 
 future history here, and the character of his destiny 
 hereafter. Conversion, without which the present 
 life is a perfect blank, and the future is "written in 
 mourning, lamentation, and woe," is that event in 
 
ALONE WITH JESUS. 43 
 
 individual history which creates all things new. 
 The step which we are now describing, is the first, 
 in the great matter of conversion. The Holy Spirit 
 asserts this when, by the apostle, he describes the 
 law as our schoolmaster, to bring us unto Christ. 
 And in the school of the law, the first and the grand 
 lesson which the sinner learns is his sin, his curse 
 and his condemnation. There he is convinced of 
 his vileness, convicted of his guilt, and learns his 
 poverty, helplessness, and hell-deserving. All the 
 fond conceit of his own worthiness, strength, and 
 fitness, vanishes as a vapour, and he sees himself in 
 the power, under the curse, and exposed to the tre- 
 mendous condemnation of Godls righteous, broken, 
 avenging law. Thus convicted in the very act of 
 his rebellion against God, he is brought, like a felon, 
 into the presence of Jesus. There he stands, pale 
 and trembhng, his witnesses many and loud, while 
 his own awakened conscience pleads guilty to the 
 charge. 
 
 Art thou that soul, dear reader? Has the law 
 arrested and brought thee within Christ's court? 
 O thou never wast in such a position before — so 
 new, so strange, so blessed ! It may be, you never 
 felt yourself so near hell as now, under the sentence 
 of God's law ; but you never were so near heaven 
 as now, in the presence of Jesus. You are now in 
 that court where justice to the fullest is honoured, 
 and where mercy to its utmost is extended. You 
 are in Christ's court, at Christ's bar,— awaiting the 
 sentence of him who was made under that law, 
 
44 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 fulfilled its precepts, and endured its penalty to the 
 uttermost. You are in the presence of him who 
 came to deliver sinners from its curse and woe, and 
 to raise them far above the reach of all condemnation. 
 IS'ever were you so sensible of your guilt and ruin 
 as now, yet never were you so near the fountain 
 that cleanseth from all sin, nor so close to him who 
 was pierced to shelter the vilest of the vile. Thy 
 Judge is thy Saviour. He who sits upon that 
 throne is he who hung upon the cross. You are 
 arraigned in the presence, and are thrown upon the 
 mercy of him, the delight of whose heart, and the 
 glory of whose character, it is to save sinners ; 
 whose love for them induced him to screen liis 
 glory, and to appear in humiliation — to suffer, 
 bleed, and die. You are in the presence of him 
 who, though he hath ascended on high, and is now 
 glorified with the glory " he had with the Father 
 before the world was," is yet engaged in securing 
 the precious fruits of his soul's travail. 
 
 " His glory now, nor tongue of man, 
 Nor seraph bright can tell ; 
 Yet still the chief of all his joys, 
 That souls are saved from hell. 
 
 " For this he came and dwelt on earth ; 
 For this his life was given ; 
 For this he fought and vanquished death ; 
 For this he pleads in heaven.'' 
 
 Look up, poor soul ! for " your redemption draw- 
 
ALONE WITH JESTJS. 45 
 
 eth nigh." Never yet did he allow a sin-accused, 
 self-condemned sinner to go out of this court un- 
 blessed, unsaved. 
 
 We return again to the narrative; and the second 
 thing which arrests our attention, is the conduct of 
 Jesus totvards this poor tvoman. Thus does the 
 narrator describe their relative position, as each 
 silenced and conscience-stricken accuser retires from 
 the scene. "And Jesus was left alone, and the 
 woman, standing in the midst," Enviable position ! 
 The prisoner and the Judge alone ! The sinner and 
 the Saviour alone ! Her accusers were silenced ; 
 her enemies had retired ; and, surrounded by the 
 stillness and the solemnity of the place, stood the 
 woman alone with Jesus. Upon this interesting 
 and instructive topic, let us pour out the fulness of 
 our soul. 
 
 Can we imagine a position on this side heaven 
 more replete with the bliss of heaven than this ? 
 What a privilege is nearness to Christ ! Yet dear 
 and precious as it is, how sadly is it overlooked ! 
 We may trace this in some degree to the believer's 
 oversight of his oneness with Christ. Yet to forget 
 this truth, is to forget that he lives. As the branch 
 has one life with the vine, the graft one life with the 
 tree, so he that is united to Christ, and grafted into 
 Christ, has one life with Christ. Go where he may, 
 he is one with Christ. Be his circumstances what 
 they may, he is one with Christ. And as he is in 
 Christ, so Christ is in him. And if Christ be in him, 
 dwelling in him, living in him, walking in him, so 
 
46 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 also is Christ in every event, and incident, and cir- 
 cumstance of bis history. He cannot look upon the 
 darkest cloud that overhangs his path, but be may 
 exclaim, " Christ is in my cloud ; Christ is in my 
 sorrow ; Christ is in my conflict ; Christ is in my 
 need ; Christ is all to me, and Christ is in all with 
 me." We will specify a few occasions in which 
 this blessed state is more especially realized by the 
 believer. 
 
 In seasons of accusation, how precious the privi- 
 lege and the feeling of being alone with Jesus ! 
 Satan, we know, is the great accuser of the saints. 
 And yet how insensible are we of the great power 
 which he still exerts over the people rescued for ever 
 from his grasp ! It was Satan who stood up to per- 
 suade David to number Israel. It was Satan who 
 would have prompted God to slay Job ; and it was 
 Satan who stood at the right hand of Joshua, to 
 condemn his soul. Thus is he ever ready to assert 
 his charge against the people of God. N'ot less 
 malignant is the world. Infidel in its principles, God- 
 hating in its spirit, and Christ-rejecting in its whole 
 conduct, it is no marvel that it should be the antago- 
 nist and the accuser of the saints. Sitting in judg- 
 ment upon actions, the nature of which it cannot 
 understand — interpreting motives, the character of 
 which it cannot decide — ingeniously contriving, and 
 zealously propagating, reports of evil, — and ever 
 ready to defame and to detract — all who live godlily 
 in Christ Jesus must expect no mercy at its band. 
 Yes, the world is the accuser of the saints. Nor 
 
ALONE WITH JESUS. 47 
 
 Satan and the world only. IIow often, as the his- 
 tory of the holy Job testifies, have the saints been 
 found the accusers of the saints, (and with the deep- 
 est humiliation be it written,) with an uncharitable- 
 ness and censoriousness, which might have kindled 
 the world's cheek with the blush of shame. Thus 
 does the church herself testify, " My mother's chil- 
 dren were angry with me." The watchmen that 
 went about the city found me; they smote me, 
 they wounded me: the kee^Ders of the wall took 
 away my veil from me." And from whom did our 
 blessed Lord receive his deepest wounds? Were 
 they not from those who ranked among his friends 
 and followers ? 
 
 But what so keen and so bitter as self-reproach ? 
 Accusations proceeding from others are often most 
 unfounded and unjust. We have felt at the time the 
 secret and pleasant consciousness that we "suffer 
 wrongfully." The shaft flies, but the Parthian arrow 
 falls not more pointless and powerless than it. But 
 far different is the accusation which the true believer 
 brings against himself. Seeing sin where others see 
 it not — conscious of its existence and its perpetual 
 working, where the saints applaud, and even the 
 world admires, he laj^s his hand upon his heart, his 
 mouth in the dust, and exclaims, " I am vile ! I ab- 
 hor myself!" Ah ! no reproaches like those which 
 an honest, sincere child of God charges upon him- 
 self. No accusation so true, no reproof so keen, no 
 reproach so bitter. Happy are they who deal much 
 in self-condemnation ! If we judged ourselves more, 
 
48 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 we should judge others less. And if wo condemned 
 ourselves more, we should be less condemned. But 
 what a privilege in all times of accusation, come 
 from what quarter it may, to he alone with Jesus ? 
 "With him, when we know the charge to be untrue, 
 to appeal to him as an all-seeing, heart-searching, 
 and righteous Judge, and say, " Lord, thou knowest 
 my principles, my spirit, my motives, my aim, and 
 that with honest}^, purity, and singleness, I have 
 sought to walk before thee." Oh, it is a solace, the 
 preciousness of which the throbbing heart may feel, 
 but the most eloquent pen cannot describe ! And 
 wdien the accusation is just, and the believer feels, 
 " Yile as I am in the eyes of others, yet more vile 
 am I in my own eyes;" yet even then to be left 
 alone with Jesus, self-reproved, self-condemned, is 
 to be thrown upon the compassion of him, " very 
 great are whose mercies." Alone with him, not a 
 reproving glance darts from his eye, nor an upbraid- 
 ing word falls from his lips. All is mercy, all is ten- 
 derness, all is love. There before him the self-con- 
 demned may stand and confess ; at his feet the peni- 
 tent may fall and weep, and find, alone with Jesus, 
 his arm a shield, and his bosom an asylum, within 
 w^hich his bleeding, panting heart may find safety and 
 repose. 
 
 In seasons oi mental depression and sorroiv of heart, 
 how welcome and precious is this privilege ! The 
 shadow and the spring, amidst the burning desert 
 are not more welcome and refreshing to the way- 
 worn pilgrim. Sorrow is more or less the cup of 
 
ALONE WITH JESUS. 49 
 
 all. But few there are whose lips have not pressed 
 its bitter brim! Ah! judge not of the heart's 
 hidden emotions, by the calm sunlight that plays 
 upon the surface. Beneath that expression of joy- 
 ousness, the canker-worm may be feeding. At the 
 very core of that lovely flower, the insect may 
 be rioting. The countenance all radiant with 
 smiles, and the spirit all dark with sadness ; the 
 tongue discoursing sweet music, and the heart- 
 strings breaking with grief. But O the consola- 
 tion — who can describe it? — of unveiling the 
 bosom when alone with Jesus ! There the artifi- 
 cial vanishes, and the reality appears. There sor- 
 row may indulge, and tears may flow, and sighs 
 may heave, and complaints may breathe, and the 
 heart may whisper its most sacred feelings, because 
 the sorrowing believer is alone with Jesus, To whom 
 did the disconsolate disciples of the martyred John 
 repair for sympathy and comfort, in the hour of 
 their sudden and overwhelming bereavement ? We 
 are told, that " they took up the body of John, and 
 buried it, and went and told Jesus,'' They poured 
 their grief into his ear, and they laid their sorrow 
 on his heart. And when the bereaved believer, 
 whose fond earthly treasure the grave entombs, 
 withdraws from the crowd of human comforters, 
 and seeks to indulge his lonely grief, where does he 
 love to retire ? Not to the grave ; this w^ere to 
 worship the dead: but to weep out his sorrow 
 alone upon the bosom of Jesus. Ah ! ye whom 
 5 
 
50 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 death has bereaved ! tell me, is there anything like 
 this so soothing ? 
 
 But perhaps it is in the light of prayer that this 
 privilege most beautifully and sweetly appears. 
 Thus far we may not have been accompanied by 
 the sympathies of every reader; but touching the 
 subject of unfettered, unreserved communion with 
 God in prayer, all true believers are one. Disenga- 
 ged from the world, and w^ithdrawn from the saints 
 — the one as needful for the cultivation of a close 
 walk as the other; for there is much danger of 
 substituting the communion of saints for commu- 
 nion with the King of saints — the believer retires to 
 be alone with Jesus. The occasion is the most 
 solemn and holy of the Christian life. The closet 
 is entered — the door is shut — Christ and the 
 believer are alone ! Tread softly as ye pass that 
 spot, and put off thy shoes from thy feet as you 
 pause, for the Triune God is there ! Who can tell 
 the solemn, sacred transaction, now transpiring! 
 What confession of sin ! what breathing forth of 
 sorrow! what moaning out of grief! what opening 
 of heart to heart, and what blending of spirit with 
 spirit! what expressions of mutual confidence, 
 affection, and delight — the believer making known 
 the secret of his sorrow, and Christ unfolding the 
 secret of his love ! From this, too, its true source, 
 the saint of God derives his great power in prayer. 
 His amazing and prevailing strength appears at a 
 time of the most apparent w^eakness, even when 
 single-handed, and alone wnth Jesus. It was thus 
 
ALONE WITH JESUS. 51 
 
 the patriarch wrestled and overcame. "And Jacob 
 was left alone ; and tliere wrestled a man with him 
 until the breaking of the day. And when he saw 
 that he prevailed not against him, he touched the 
 hollow of his thigh ; and the hollow of Jacob's 
 thigh was out of joint, as he wrestled with him. 
 And he said, Let me go, for the day breaketh. 
 And he said, I will not let thee go, except thou 
 bless me." Kever was there a conflict of so illus- 
 trious a nature, and of so strange a result, between 
 powers so dissimilar and extreme. The incarnate 
 God, as if to demonstrate his own divine power, and 
 at the same time to make the victory of human 
 weakness over Infinite Might more illustrious and 
 palpable, touches the wrestling patriarch, and he is 
 a cripple ! And then at the moment of his greatest 
 weakness, when taught the lesson of his own 
 insufiicienc}^, that iiesh might not glory in the 
 Divine presence. Omnipotence retires vanquished 
 from the field, and yields the palm of victory to 
 the disabled but prevailing prince. And wh}^ all 
 this ? To teach ns the amazing power of prayer, 
 which the feeblest believer may have ivhen alone ivitli 
 Jesus. 
 
 No point of Christian duty and privilege set 
 before you in this work, will plead more earnestly 
 and tenderly for your solemn consideration, dear 
 reader, than this. It enters into the very essence 
 of your spiritual being. This is the channel 
 through which flows the oil that feeds the lamp of 
 your Christian profession. Dimly will burn that 
 
52 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 lamp, and drooping will be your spiritual light, 
 if you are not wont to be much alone with Jesus. 
 Every feeling of the soul, and each department of 
 Christian labour, will be sensibly affected by this 
 woful neglect. He who is but seldom with Jesus 
 in the closet, will exhibit, in all that he does for 
 Jesus in the w^orld, but the fitful and convulsive 
 movements of a mind urged on by a feverish and 
 unnatural excitement. It is only in much prayer 
 — that prayer secret and confiding — that the heart 
 is kept in its right position, its affections properly 
 governed, and its movements correctly regulated. 
 And are there not periods when you find it needful 
 to leave the society of the most spiritual, sweet as 
 is the communion of saints, to be alone with Jesus? 
 He himself has set you the example. Accustomed 
 at times to withdraw from his disciples, he has been 
 known to spend whole nights amidst the mountain's 
 solitude, alone with his Father. O the sacredness, 
 the solemnity of such a season ! Alone with God! 
 alone with Jesus ! no eye seeing, no ear hearing, 
 but his ; the dearest of earthly beings excluded, 
 and no one present save Jesus only, the best, the 
 dearest of all ! Then, in the sweetest and most 
 unreserved confidence the believer unveils his soul, 
 and reveals all to the Lord. Conscience is read — 
 motives are dissected — principles are sifted — actions 
 are examined — the heart is searched — sin is confes- 
 sed — and iniquity is acknowledged, as could only 
 effectually be done in the presence of Jesus alone. 
 Is there, among all the privileges of a child of God, 
 
ALONE WITH JESUS. 53 
 
 one in its costliness and its preciousness surpassing 
 this? 
 
 Yet another view of our Lord's conduct towards 
 this lone object of his mercy. Who was now her 
 judge ? He who came into the world " not to con- 
 demn the world, but to save it," John iii. 17. She 
 was in the presence of him who left the realms of 
 glory and his Father's bosom, to save the chief of 
 sinners. Here was one; and his heart yearned, and 
 his spirit was moved with pity and compassion. ISTot 
 a reproving glance darted from his eye, nor an up- 
 braiding word breathed from his lips. Listen to the 
 music of his voice, — " "Woman, where are those thine 
 accusers ? hath no man condemned thee ? She said, 
 1^0 man. Lord. And Jesus said unto her, ISTeither 
 do I condemn thee : go, and sin no more." How 
 like himself did he now appear ! Here was a flower 
 bhghted — did he despise it? Here was a stem 
 bruised— did he break it ? Here was a plant crushed 
 —did he trample it beneath his feet ? ITo ! he took 
 that blighted flower, and placed it in his bosom. 
 With skilful and tender hands he bound up that 
 bruised stem. He stooped and raised that prostrate 
 plant, lifted it into sunshine, and bade it droop and 
 fall no more. 
 
 blessed type of Christ's conduct towards a peni- 
 tent sinner ! Behold the soul prostrated at the foot 
 of the cross. He admits the truth of all the accusa- 
 tions alleged against him. He disproves not, nor 
 palliates a single one. "Lord I have destroyed my- 
 self," is his mournful, humiliating acknowledgement. 
 
54 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 But alone the sinner and the Saviour stand. The 
 one all sin — the other all mercy. The one all fear 
 
 — the other all love. The bosom of the one agi- 
 tated and convulsed with guilt and shame — the 
 bosom of the other thrilling, and yearning with mercy 
 and forgiveness. " Art thou," says Jesus, " convicted 
 of this sin ? Hast thou fled to my cross for salvation 
 
 — to my bosom for shelter ? Hast thou repaired to 
 my blood for pardon, and taken hold of my right- 
 eousness for acceptance ? Hast thou appealed to my 
 compassion, and thrown thyself upon my mercy? 
 Then / do not condemn thee. Thou hast touched 
 every spring of tenderness in my heart ; thou hast 
 stirred my mercy to its very depth ; thou hast 
 crowned and glorified me in that which is most dear 
 to my heart — my power and my willingness to save 
 to the uttermost ; thy sins are forgiven thee ; I con- 
 demn thee not." 
 
 It will perhaps be replied. But he declined to con- 
 demn this woman as a civil ^udge. Grant it. Shall 
 we suppose that our Lord is less compassionate and 
 merciful as a moral judge ? If he refuses the ofiice 
 of a temporal magistrate, does it follow that he 
 vacates that of a spiritual minister ? If he does not 
 sit in the seat of Moses, will he abandon his own 
 mercy-seat ? No. He came to seek and to save that 
 which was lost. He came to call, not the righteous, 
 but sinners to repentance. And to every repentant 
 sinner brought into his presence, in the face of all 
 his accusers, he says, "I condemn thee not." 
 
 We turn to the closinfj^ scene of this instructive 
 
ALONE AVITII JESUS. 55 
 
 narrative — Christ's dismissal of the woman. "Go, 
 and sin no more." See how he manifests his abhor- 
 rence of the sin, while he throws his sliield of mercy 
 around the sinner. The Lord does not justify the 
 sinner's transgression, though he justifies the sinner's 
 person. In the great matter of salvation, justifica- 
 tion and sanctification, pardon and holiness, are es- 
 sentially and inseparably united. When the Lord 
 Jesus dismisses a sinner with a sense of acquittal in 
 his conscience, it is ever accompanied with that 
 most afiecting of all exhortations, "Sin no more." 
 And as he passes out from the presence of Jesus, 
 pardoned, justified, saved, the Saviour's tender, soul- 
 subduing words, from that moment seem to vibrate 
 upon his ear, every step of his onward way. " Go, 
 admire, and publish abroad the glory of that grace 
 that has done such great things for thee. Go, and 
 spread his fame, and with thy latest breath dwell 
 upon his name, who, when sin, and Satan, and con- 
 science accused thee, and would have consigned thee 
 to eternal woe, appeared thy Friend, thine Advocate, 
 and thy Saviour. Go, and when tempted to wound 
 afresh the bosom that sheltered thee, remember me 
 from Gethsemane, from Calvarj^, and from the hal- 
 lowed spot where I spake to thee, ' I condemn thee 
 
 not. — Go, AND SIN NO MORE.' " 
 
 In closing this chapter, suffer me, dear reader, to 
 urge upon you the daily and diligent cultivation of 
 that Christianity which derives its freshness, its 
 vigour, and its gloss, from much hidden intercourse 
 
56 ALONE WITU JESUS. 
 
 with Jesns. We plead not for the religion of the 
 recluse. A monkish Christianity is not the Chris- 
 tianity of the Bihle. When God, in the exercise of 
 his sovereign grace, converts a man, he converts 
 him, not for himself only, but also for others. He 
 converts him, not for the church alone, but also for 
 the world. He is to be a monument, whose inscrip- 
 tion all may read — a city, whose beauty all may 
 admire — a burning and a shining light, in whose 
 radiance all may rejoice. He is to live and labour, 
 and, if needs be, die for others. But we plead for 
 more of that Christianity which is often alone with 
 God ; which w^ithdraws at periods from the fatigue 
 of labour and the din of strife — to renew its 
 strength, and to replenish its resources, in a secret 
 waiting upon the Lord. Christians must be more 
 alone with Jesus. In the midst of what a whirlpool 
 of excitement and of turmoil do numbers live ! 
 How few withdraw from domestic and public enjoy- 
 ments — the calls of business, the duties of commit- 
 tees, of secretaryships, and of agencies — to hold 
 communion alone with God ! This must not be. 
 The institutions which they serve, the calling at 
 which they toil, the families for whom they labour, 
 would be the gainers, rather than the losers, by 
 their occasional sequesterments from the world, to 
 be alone with God. And were our Lord still upon 
 the earth, and contemplating their incessant action 
 and little devotional retirement, and consequent 
 leanness of spirit, would he not be constrained to 
 
ALONE WITH JESUS. 57 
 
 address tliem as be once tenderly did his jaded and 
 exhausted disciples, " Come ye yourselves apart into 
 a desert place, and rest awhile?" He would allure 
 them from others to himself. 
 
 It is possible, my dear reader, that this page may 
 be read by jow at a period of painful and entire 
 separation from all public engagements, ordinances, 
 and privileges. The way which it has pleased the 
 Lord to take thus to set you aside, may be painful 
 and humbling. The inmate of a sick chamber, or 
 curtained within the house of mourning, or removed 
 far remote from the sanctuary of God and the 
 fellowship of the saints, you are perhaps led to 
 inquire, "Lord, why this ?" He replies, " Come ye 
 apart and rest awhile." the thoughtfulness, the 
 discrimination, the tenderness of Jesus towards his 
 people ! He has set you apart from public for private 
 duties, from communion with others, for communion 
 with himself. Ministers, friends, privileges, are with- 
 drawn, and you are — enviable state ! — alone with 
 Jesus. And now expect the richest and holiest bless- 
 ing of your life ! Is it sickness P Jesus will make all 
 thy bed in thy sickness, and your experience shall be, 
 " his left hand is under my head, and his right hand 
 doth embrace me." Is it bereavement P Jesus will 
 soothe thy sorrow, and sweeten thy loneliness, for 
 he loves to visit the house of mourning, and to 
 accompany us to the grave to weep with us there. 
 Is it exile from the house of God, from the ordi- 
 nances of the church, from a pastor's care, from 
 
58 ALONE WITH JE.'rUS. 
 
 Christian fellowship ? Still it is Jesus who speaks, 
 " There will I be unto you as a little sanctuary." 
 The very circumstances, new and peculiar as they 
 are, in which you are placed, God can convert 
 into new and pecuhar mercies, yea, into the richest 
 means of grace with which your soul was ever fed. 
 The very void you feel, the very want you deplore, 
 may be God's way of satiating you with his good- 
 ness. Ah ! does not God see thy grace in thy very 
 desire for grace ? Does he not mark thy sanctifica- 
 tion in thy very thirsting for holiness ? And can he 
 not turn that desire and convert that thirst into the 
 very blessing itself? Truly he can, and often does. 
 As one has remarked, God knows how to give the 
 comfort of an ordinance in the want of an ordinance. 
 And he can now more than supply the absence of 
 others by the presence of himself Oh, who can 
 compute the blessings which now may flow into 
 your soul from this season of exile and of solitude ? 
 Solitude ! no, it is not solitude. ISTever wert thou 
 less alone than now. You are alone with God, and 
 he is infinitely better than health, wealth, friends, 
 ministers, or sanctuary, for he is the substance and 
 the sweetness of all. You have perhaps been 
 labouring and watching for the souls of others ; the 
 Lord is now showing his tender care for thine. 
 And oh, if while thus alone with Jesus you are led 
 more deeply to search out the plague of your own 
 heart, and the love of his — to gather up the trailing 
 garment — to burnish the rusted armour — to trim 
 
ALONE WITH JESUS. 59 
 
 the glimmering lamp— and to cultivate a closer 
 fellowship with thy Father, how much soever you 
 may mourn the necessity and the cause, you yet 
 will not regret that the Lord hath set you apart from 
 others that you might rest awhile in his blest embrace 
 
 ALONE WITH JeSUS. 
 
 "Alone with God ! the universe shut out, 
 Earth, sense, and time, excluded and forgot ; 
 All memories vanished of the parted past. 
 All prospects of the future overborne 
 And swallowed up in that one mighty sense, 
 That all-engrossing consciousness of God ! 
 
 " Alone with God ! all earth-born love absorbed, 
 All earthly ties dissolved — all thoughts of those 
 Long held most dear, — Elisha-like, who clung 
 Around the parting soul to Tabor's brink, 
 For a brief space (brief to eternity) 
 Lost in that all-pervading thought of God ! 
 
 " Alone with God ! angelic hosts around 
 * In burning row,' attending, but unseen, 
 Angelic harps unheard, though far and high. 
 The sounding cadence of their anthem rolls ; 
 
 The sea of crystal, and the streets of gold 
 
 The walls of jasper, and the gates of pearl. 
 Unnoticed all, resplendent though they be, 
 The throne, and Him who sits thereon, beheld, 
 Nought else besides, in solitude sublime ! 
 And dost thou shrink, my spirit, from the sight 
 Of uncreated majesty, and quail 
 To meet the Eternal, naked and alone ? 
 
 " Alone with God !— I shrink not— He is great— 
 His awful glory, when unveiled, might well 
 Consume the spirits He hath made ; but still 
 I shrink not— He is holy, too, and just. 
 
60 ALONE WITH JESUS. 
 
 And very terrible : He dwells in light 
 That no man can approach — no mortal eye 
 Can look upon and live ;— but there is One 
 Beside Him whom I dare to meet alone — 
 Whom I have met alone at midnight hour, 
 In dark Gethsemane's sequestered shades, 
 Alone, though trembling; friends and armed foes 
 Peopling the solitude, were round ua there ; 
 Whom I have met alone on Calvary's hill. 
 Though taunting crowds and dying men were there ; 
 Whom I have met alone on Tabor's mount. 
 Unmindful of the little band that there 
 Held heavenly converse, sacredly amazed. 
 
 " Alone with Jesus ! no, I cannot shrink 
 From that blest fellowship, unbroken, deep, 
 And soul-absorbing in the spirit land. 
 So oft intruded on in this dark world. 
 By mortal joys and sorrows that would rob 
 My soul of that communiorr, pure and high. 
 
 " Alone with Jesus ! on the Saviour's breast 
 Fondly to lean, and think on none but him ; 
 How oft my spirit feels lost in the crowd 
 Of fellow-worshippers below, above, — 
 And longs, like his small band on earth, to be 
 * Led out into a desert place alone,' 
 To hear his voice, and share his love, as though 
 That voice and heart of love were only mine. 
 
 " Alone with God ! in that blest solitude, 
 Could earth be wanting with its fleeting joys, 
 Or even its most abiding ; and most pure 
 To fill the measure of a finite soul ! 
 In that august communion could the loss 
 Of mortal converse shade the holy light, 
 Or mar the sacred joy which, as a tide, 
 A swelling tide of ecstacy, rolls in 
 Upon the spirit conscious but of God V 
 
CHAPTEK III. 
 
 THE PASTOR'S REQUEST FOR THE PRAYERS OF 
 HIS FLOCK. 
 
 Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit — 
 and for me, that utterance may be given unto me, that I may open 
 my mouth boldly, to make known the mystery of the gospel." — 
 Eph. vi. 18, 19. 
 
 The Church of God, as if reflecting from its 
 bosom, hke a sea of glass, the order and the 
 perfection of the heaven of glory, from which it 
 descended, presents a beautiful harmony of relation 
 and dependence in all its parts ; while, as a whole, 
 it forms a temple of magnificent construction and 
 consummate symmetry — the Zion of God, the 
 " perfection of beauty." In nothing does the 
 evidence of this more strikingly appear than in 
 the relation of the Church of God and the Christian 
 ministry. The obligations involved in this relation, 
 and the reciprocal influence which it is perpetually 
 exerting, illustrate the harmony of this master-piece 
 of divine workmanship in a manner the most 
 surprising. The Christian church and the Christian 
 ministry are coeval institutions. Separate and 
 distinct from each other though they are, they yet 
 never existed apart. There never was a church 
 without a ministry ; and the appointment of the 
 6 (61) 
 
G2 THE pastor's request for 
 
 Christian ministry always implied the existence of 
 the Christian church — the one necessarily involving 
 the other. Of this beautiful relation in one of its 
 most interesting features we are now to speak — viz., 
 the RELIANCE or THE Christian ministry upon the 
 INTERCESSIONS OF THE Church. It might bo 
 supposed, from a cursory view of this subject, that 
 a Christian pastor, from the exalted nature of his 
 office, and from the superior attainments in grace 
 and knowledge to which he is supposed to have 
 arrived, would occupy a place so far in the ascendant 
 of the feeblest member of his flock, as to place him 
 in a position independent of the influence which 
 that individual might be capable of exerting. 
 But not so. And here we trace the wisdom and 
 the goodness of God in the nice adjustment 
 of every part of the body of Christ to the 
 whole. As in the physical structure of the human 
 frame, the smallest and most insignificent muscles 
 are observed to perform the most important and 
 delicate actions — the minutest fibre transmitting a 
 vital influence to the brain — so in the more beauti- 
 ful and perfect body, the church of God, "much 
 more those members which seem to be more feeble 
 are necessary." Thus no pastor can be unaffected 
 by the individual influence of the lowliest member 
 of a Christian body. 
 
 The portion of God's word which suggests the 
 topic of this chapter, presents to our view the 
 sublime moral spectacle of the great Apostle of the 
 Gentiles — a man full of wisdom and of the Holy 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. 63 
 
 Spirit, mighty in grace, and enriched in gifts — so 
 deeply conscious of personal weakness, and so 
 crashed by the weight of his official responsibilities, 
 and so desirous, too, of delivering his divine message 
 with a moral courage worthy of its high character, 
 stooping to ask at the hands of the Ephesian 
 church, and even of the obscurest member of that 
 church, an interest in his intercessory prayers. 
 " Praying always with all prayer and supplication 
 in the Spirit — and for me, that utterance may be 
 given unto me, that I may open my mouth boldly, 
 to make known the mystery of the gospel." The 
 subject is an interesting and an important one. Its 
 bearings upon the mutual usefulness, holiness, and 
 happiness of a pastor and his flock are solemn and 
 far-reaching. It affords a solution of a difficult 
 problem — why there is often, comparatively, so 
 little happiness and perpetuity in the pastoral rela- 
 tion ; and why there is so much complaint on the 
 one part of unprofitable preaching, and on the 
 other part of careless and fruitless hearing. 
 Prayer for the pastor is restrained before God! 
 Let us endeavour to understand the meaniug of the 
 apostle's words, that we may feel the full force of 
 his earnest and solemn request. 
 
 The first point to which it is proper to turn our 
 attention is, the sublime topic of the Qhristia^i Blinis- 
 try. The apostle designates it the " mystery of the 
 gospel." He doubtless borrows the word from the 
 secret rites of the heathen temples, to which none 
 were admitted, and which none understood but the 
 
G4 THE pastor's request for 
 
 initiated. To all others tliey were mysteries. Freed 
 from its original and profane use, it is here appro- 
 priately applied to designate the nature and the doc- 
 trines of the gospel of Christ, and thus becomes by 
 its association, a hallowed and expressive term. 
 IlTor is this the only place in which it occurs in the 
 same use. Thus in 1 Cor. ii. 7, "We speak the 
 wisdom of God in a mystery, even the hidden wis- 
 dom, which God ordained before the world for our 
 glory." Equally clear is it, that none are initiated 
 into this mystery of the gospel but those who are 
 partakers of the second birth. For " unless a man 
 he horn again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." 
 It is to him a mystery. He is blind and cannot see 
 the glorious mysteries of this kingdom of grace. 
 Addressing his twelve disciples, our Lord further 
 elucidates this idea when he reminds them of their 
 great and gracious privilege : " Unto you it is given 
 to know the mystery of the kingdom of God : but 
 unto them that are without, all these things are 
 done in parables." Mark iv. 11. Still more clearly 
 is this truth developed in his remarkable prayer thus 
 recorded : " In that hour Jesus rejoiced in his spirit 
 and said, I thank thee, Father, Lord of heaven and 
 earth, that thou hast hidden these things from the 
 wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes : 
 even so. Father; for so it seemed good in thy sight." 
 Luke X. 21. Permit one remark in passing : If, dear 
 reader, you have been led in any degree into the 
 knowledge of this glorious mystery of truth, hesi- 
 tate not to ascribe it to the grace of God. Unto you 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. t»5 
 
 it has been given to know the mystery of the king- 
 dom. The sovereignty of God has so ordered it. 
 The learning, the intellect, and the philosophy of 
 the worldly wise and prudent, have afforded you no 
 help in the solution and unravelling of these divine 
 and glorious enigmas. "But God hath revealed 
 them unto us by his Spirit : for the Spirit searcheth 
 all things, yea, the deep things of God." To babes 
 in Christ — to the lowly-minded disciple — to the 
 learner, willing to receive the kingdom of God, as 
 a little child — God unfolds this mystery, that no 
 flesh should glory in his presence. favoured, 
 happy soul, if thou, through the illuminating grace 
 of the Holy Spirit, hast been led into the mystery 
 of the Father's love in Christ to poor perishing sin- 
 ners ! " Even so, Father ; for so it seemed good in 
 thy sight!" 
 
 Il^ow, here at the very threshold of the kingdom 
 of grace, many hesitate and stumble. The glory of 
 the Gospel — its divine mystery — is their great hin- 
 drance. The dim light of nature has conducted 
 them thus far, and here they are brought to a stand. 
 Looking into the sacred volume, and finding doc- 
 trines there propounded for their faith, which tower 
 above their reason, they scornfully cast it aside, 
 proudly and triumphantly asking, "If this were a 
 revelation from God, why has he not excluded all 
 mystery, clothing every truth with light, and free- 
 ing ever}^ doctrine from difficulty ? Why cannot we 
 understand what he has revealed ? Are we such 
 babes in understanding, or such dolts in intellect, 
 
66 THE pastor's request for 
 
 that these revelations should be veiled in mystery ? 
 And are we such fools as to believe that to be true 
 which our reason pronounces to be false?" Thus, 
 " vain man would be wise, though man be born like 
 a wild ass's colt." 
 
 But, if it may avail to argue with such an objec- 
 tor, we would inquire, — Is not the world without 
 you and the world within you crowded with prob- 
 lems, which laugh to scorn your oft-made attempts 
 to solve them ? Is not the universe of mind and of 
 matter, of which you form a most mysterious speck, 
 replete with mysteries which you cannot explore? 
 Either search out those difficulties, '>nd unravel 
 those mysteries, and thus plant a new sun in the in- 
 tellectual firmament, that shall dispel the lingering 
 night of ages, or admit the truth of the mystery of 
 the gospel. Where will you place your foot on this 
 little planet of ours, that brings you not in contact 
 with some law or with some product of nature 
 which you cannot explain ? The leaf that falls on 
 the pathless desert, the dust brushed from the 
 emmet's wing, baffle and confound you. The pul- 
 sations at your heart, the movement of your arm, 
 awe and embarrass you. Your very being is a 
 fathomless mystery ! Why, then, assume an air of 
 such astonishment, and an attitude of such contempt 
 — why look, wh}^ speak so doubtingl}^, when we pre- 
 sent for your belief the mystery of revelation ; the 
 inexplicable wonders of God's salvation of man ? 
 ^' Observe, I pray you," argues, with much force and 
 beauty, an eminent continental divine, "in what 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. 67 
 
 manner the mysteries of wliicli you complain have 
 taken their part in religion. You readily perceive 
 they are not hy themselves, but associated with 
 truths which have a direct hearing on your salvation. 
 They contain them, they serve to envelope them ; 
 but they are not themselves the truths that save. 
 It is with these mysteries as it is with the vessel 
 which contains a medicinal draught ; it is not the 
 vessel that cures, but the draught ; yet the draught 
 could not be presented without the vessel. Thus 
 each truth that saves is contained in a mystery, 
 which, in itself, has no power to save. So the great 
 work of expiation is necessarily attached to the in- 
 carnation of the Son of God, which is a mystery ; 
 so the sanctifying graces of the new covenant are 
 necessarily connected with the outpouring of the 
 Holy Spirit, which is a mystery ; so, too, the divinity 
 of religion iinds a seal and an attestation in the mira- 
 cles, which are mysteries. Everywhere the light is 
 born from darkness, and darkness accompanies the 
 light. These two orders of truth are so united, so 
 interlinked, that you cannot remove the one without 
 the other ; and each of the mysteries you attempt to 
 tear from religion, would carry with it one of the 
 truths which bear directly on your regeneration and 
 salvation. Accept the mysteries, then, not as truths 
 that can save you, but as the necessary conditions 
 of the merciful work of the Lord in your behalf 
 
 " The true point at issue in reference to religion 
 is this, — Does the religion which is proposed to us 
 change the heart, unite to God, prepare for heaven? 
 
68 THE pastor's request for 
 
 If Christianity produces these effects, we will leave 
 the enemies of the cross free to revolt against its 
 mysteries, and tax them with absurdity. The 
 gospel, we will say to them, is then an absurdity : 
 you have discovered it. But behold what a new 
 species of absurdity that certainly is, which attaches 
 man to all his duties, regulates human life better 
 than all the doctrines of sages, plants in his bosom 
 harmony, order, and peace, causes him joyfully to 
 fulfil all the offices of civil life, renders him better 
 fitted to live, better fitted to die, and which, were it 
 generally received, would be the support and safe- 
 guard of society ! Cite to us, among all human 
 absurdities, a single one which produces such efiects. 
 If that ' foolishness' we preach produces efiects like 
 these is it not natural to conclude that it is truth 
 itself? And if these things have not entered the 
 heart of man, it is not because they are absurd, but 
 because they are divine." * 
 
 And yet how credulous is man when folly clothes 
 itself in affected mystery, and demands his faith ! 
 The atheist, for example, seizing upon every child- 
 ish cause, that promises to solve his difficulties, and 
 dispel his fears ; the sceptic, launched upon the 
 stormy sea of uncertainty and doubt, becomes the 
 plaything of chance and fate, whose dreamings he 
 implicitly believes. What folly so egregious has not 
 man credited ? By what imposture so gross has he 
 not been entrapped ? And to what superstition so 
 abject has he not been a slave? And yet the 
 
 * Alexander Vinet, D. D., Lausanne. 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. 69 
 
 sublime, glorious, precious mystery of the gospel, 
 he, in the pride of his intellect, and in the 
 depravity of his heart, scornfully and utterly 
 rejects ! 
 
 "Yea, I have seen grey-headed men, the bastard slips of 
 science, 
 
 Go for light to glow-worms, while they scorn the sun at 
 noon: 
 
 Men, who fear no God, trembling at a gipsy's curse ; 
 
 Men, who jest at revelation, clinging to a madman's pro- 
 phecy \" 
 
 But let us specify some of the mysteries of the 
 gospel, which, while it declares transcending our 
 reason, yet propounds for our faith. 
 
 We commence with the doctrine of the Trinity. 
 That this is a truth of express revelation, we think 
 it will not be difficult to show. We may not find 
 the term employed to designate the doctrine in the 
 Bible, but if we find the doctrine itself there, it is 
 all that we ask. On opening the Bible, with a 
 view to the examination of this subject, the first 
 truth that arrests our attention, is a solemn declara- 
 tion of the Divine Unity, — " Hear, Israel : The 
 Lord our God is one Lord." Deut. vi. 4. 
 
 Prosecuting our research, we find two distinct 
 persons spoken of in relation to the Godhead, under 
 the titles of the "Son of God," and the "Holy 
 Spirit of God," to whom are ascribed the attributes 
 of Deity and the qualities of a person, implj-ing 
 Divine Personality, A step further brings us to a 
 
70 THE pastor's request for 
 
 passage in wliich we find these three distinct 
 divine persons, associated in an act of .solemn 
 worship, — '^ Go, teach all nations, baptizing them 
 in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
 Spirit." What conckision must we draw from 
 these premises ? First, that there is a unity in the 
 Godhead; and secondly, that in this unity, or in 
 this one Godhead, there is a trinity of persons, or 
 three distinct subsistences, styled the Father, the 
 Son, and the Holy Ghost. Here, then, we have 
 the doctrine for which we plead. The following 
 passage clearly teaches the same glorious truth. 
 Matt. iii. 16 : " And Jesus, when he was baptized 
 went up straightway out of the water : and, lo, the 
 heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the 
 Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting 
 upon him." What a conclusive evidence is this 
 passage of the blessed Trinity ! The Father 
 speaks from the excellent glory ; the Son ascends 
 from the water, and receives the attestation of his 
 Father; and the Holy Spirit descends from the 
 heavens, and overshadows him. Here are three 
 distinct persons, to each of whom the marks of 
 Deity are ascribed, and between whom it is impos- 
 sible not to observe a bond of the closest and 
 tenderest unity. Again, 1 Cor. xii. 4 — 6 : " N^ow 
 there are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. 
 And there are differences of administrations, but the 
 same Lord. And there are diversities of operations; 
 but it is the same God who worketh all in all." 
 With what a sunbeam is this glorious truth here 
 
THE PRAYERS OE HIS FLOCK. 71 
 
 written ! How richly it glows with light pecu- 
 liarly its own ! That here are three distinct sub- 
 sistences, who can deny ? And that they are equals 
 who can doubt ? Gal. iv. 6 : ''And because ye are 
 sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of His Son 
 into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father." Again, 
 here are three persons announced in connexion with 
 the blessed act of the Father's adoption of his 
 people. Jude 20, 21 : " But ye, beloved, building 
 up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in 
 the Holy Ghost, keep yourselves in the love of 
 God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ, unto eternal life. Wilfully, or judicially 
 blind must he be, who sees not in these words the 
 great truth for which we plead. And it is the 
 glory of our land, and the joy of our hearts, to 
 know, that from every Christian pulpit, the doctrine 
 of the bkssed Trinity is proclaimed whenever the 
 apostolic benediction is pronounced, " The grace 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, 
 and the communion of the Holy Ghost, be with 
 you all. Amen." 
 
 That the mode of its existence is an awful mystery, 
 we unhesitatingly admit ; but it is not the mode of 
 the fact, but the fact itself, which the word presents 
 as the object of our faith. I am not required to 
 believe how the three persons subsist as the One God- 
 head : but I am to believe upon the express testi- 
 mony of revelation that they do so exist. I find a 
 Trinity within me — matter, mind, and spirit. I am 
 baffled in my attempts to unravel the mystery. In 
 
72 THE pastor's request for 
 
 vain I search for a clue : every attempt leaves me 
 puzzled, lost, and more confounded. Do I therefore 
 den}^ my own being? Or, do I not rather subordi- 
 nate my reason to my faith, believing a fact, the 
 truth of which I have the evidence, but the mode 
 of which I cannot understand ? Surely, then, if I 
 cannot fathom the shallows of a finite existence, how 
 can I fathom the depths of an infinite? Foolish 
 man ! expecting all else to be wrapped in profound 
 mystery, and God alone to be understood ! " Canst 
 thou by searching find out God ? canst thou find out 
 the Almighty unto perfection? It is higher than 
 heaven, what canst thou do ? deeper than hell, what 
 canst thou know ? The measure thereof is longer 
 than the earth, and broader than the sea." 
 
 There is so much excellence of thought, and so 
 clearly expressed, in the following observations, appo- 
 site to our subject, by one of the ablest divines, that 
 we are constrained to quote them. Alluding to the 
 doctrine of the Trinity, he remarks : — " The doctrine 
 of which I now speak is freely admitted to be above 
 reason. But it is of consequence to observe, that 
 on this very account, it seems impossible to prove it 
 contrary to reason. It is a common and just remark, 
 that there is an essential difierence between anything 
 being above reason, and being contrary to it ; and 
 that it may be the former, without being the latter. 
 I think we may go a step farther, and aflirm, as I 
 have just hinted, that this very circumstance of its 
 being the former, precludes the possibility of proving 
 it to be the latter. I question whether anything that 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK 73 
 
 is above reason can ever be shown to be contrary 
 to it. For unless we have some notion of the thing 
 itself, on what principle can we make out the con- 
 trariety ? Were we to say that the persons of the God- 
 head are one and three in the same sense, we should 
 evidently affirm what is contrary to reason ; because 
 such a proposition would involve, in the very terms 
 of it, an irreconcilable contradiction ; but so long as 
 we do not pretend to know, nor to say, how they are 
 one, and how they are three, to prove that we assert 
 what is contrary to reason, when we affirm that they 
 are both, is, from the very nature of the thing, 
 impossible. For what is it w^iich is to be proved 
 contrary to reason? Upon the supposition made, 
 we cannot tell — it is something which we do not know, 
 of the nature and circumstances of which we are 
 left in total ignorance. For our own part, so far from 
 being staggered by finding mysteries in revelation, 
 I am satisfied that the entire absence of them would 
 have formed a much stronger ground for suspicion. 
 All analogy excites and justifies the expectation of 
 them. Nature, in its various departments, is full of 
 them ; and shall we, then, account it strange, that 
 there should be any in the department of grace? 
 They abound in the works of God ; why, then, should 
 we not wish for them in his word ? They present 
 themselves in the nature and constitution of every 
 one of his creatures ; and is it to be conceived, that 
 in his own nature and essence nothing of the kind 
 should be found ? Is it reasonable to think that all 
 should be plain and easily comprehensible, which 
 6 
 
74' THE pastor's request for 
 
 relates to God himself, and that inexplicable difficul- 
 ties should embarrass and stop our researches, only in 
 what regards his creatures? Ought we not rather, 
 on such a subject, to anticipate difficulties? — to ex- 
 pect to feel the inadequacy and the failure of our 
 faculties ? — and to expect this, with a certainty pro- 
 portioned to the superior magnitude of the subject 
 above all others that can engage our attention, and 
 its complete and absolute remoteness from the sphere 
 of all our senses, and of all our experience ? If finite 
 things every moment confound us, we ought to be 
 surprised at finding that we cannot comprehend 
 what is infinite ? Let us remember the apostolical 
 lesson, and let it be our desire, that we may think, 
 and feel, and act, on all subjects, and on all occasions, 
 consistently with the principle and spirit of it. " I 
 say, through the grace given to me, to every man 
 that is among you, not to think of himself more 
 highly than he ought to think, but to think soberly."* 
 Before we dismiss all allusion to this doctrine, we 
 must venture to observe that, in an experimental 
 and practical point of view, it is a truth fraught with 
 the richest blessing to a believing mind. The 
 relation which it sustains to our spiritual knowledge, 
 happiness, and future glory, is but little considered. 
 It is to the Christian the key of the Bible. The 
 Spirit imparting skill to use it, and the power, w^hen 
 used, it unlocks this divine arcana of mysteries, and 
 throws open every door in the blest sanctuary of 
 truth. But it is in the light of salvation that its 
 
 * Dr. Wardlaw on the Socinian Controversy. 
 
THE PRAYERS OP HIS FLOCK. 75 
 
 fitness and beauty most distinctly appear — salvation 
 in which Jehovah appears so inimitably glorious — 
 so like Himself. The Father's love appears in 
 sending his Son — the Son's love in undertaking the 
 work — the Holy Spirit's love in applying the work. 
 Oh, it is delightful to see how, in working out the 
 mighty problem of man's redemption, the Divine 
 Three were thus deeply engaged ! With which of 
 these could we have dispensed ? All were needed — 
 and had one been wanting, our salvation had been 
 incomplete, and we had been eternally lost. In bring- 
 ing to glory the Church they thus have saved, the 
 sacred Three are solemnly pledged. And in the 
 matter of frayer^ how sustaining to faith, and how 
 soothing to the mind, w^hen w^e can embrace, in our 
 ascending petitions, the blessed Three in One ! 
 " For through him (the Son) we both have access 
 by one Spirit unto the Father." 
 
 The doctrine of the Incarnation presents another 
 gospel mystery, if possible, more astonishing than 
 the one we have just considered. "We can more 
 easily understand that there should be three persons 
 in a unity of subsistence, than that G-od sliould he 
 manifested in the flesh. The analogy of the one 
 meets us everywhere ; turn we the eye within our- 
 selves, or turn we it without upon the broad expanse 
 of God's creation — from every point of observation, 
 a trinity of existence bursts upon our view. But, 
 of the other, in vain we search for anything ap- 
 proaching to resemblance. It was a thing so 
 unheard of and so strange, so marvellous and so 
 
76 THE pastor's request for 
 
 unique, — that there was nothing in the sublime or 
 the rude, in the bold or the tender of nature's 
 varied works, to prepare the mind for, or awaken 
 the expectation of, a phenomenon so strange, so 
 stupendous, and so m^^sterious.'^ Is'ot that the 
 possibility of such an event astonishes ns. With 
 Jehovah all things are possible. " Is anything too 
 hard for me ?" is a question that would seem to 
 rebuke the first rising of such an emotion, — 
 
 "A God allowed, all other wonders cease/' 
 
 But we marvel at the fact itself. Its stupendousness 
 amazes us — its condescension humbles us — its glory 
 dazzles us — its tenderness subdues us — its love over- 
 powers us. That the uncreated Son of God should 
 become the created Son of man — that the Eternal 
 "Word should be made flesh and dwell with men — 
 that he should assume a new title, entwining in 
 the awful letters that compose his divine name, 
 others denoting his inferior nature as man, so 
 
 * We do not overlook the fact that there have been found to 
 exist in the history of nations, ideas that would seem analogous 
 to the revealed doctrine of the incarnation. For instance, the 
 Pythagorean doctrine of the transmigration of souls — the 
 Hindoo idea of the incarnation of Vishna, and other examples 
 which might be adduced. But how far these dim and vague 
 notions were extraneous from sacred tradition would be a nice 
 and interesting question. But that the doctrine of the incarna- 
 tion of the Son of God is any other than a pure and express 
 revelation, no true believer will for a moment question. It was 
 a secret originating and enclosed within the mind of JEHOVAn. 
 He only could reveal it. 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. 77 
 
 revealing himself as JEHOVAH-Jesus ! wonder, 
 surpassing thought ! Before this, how are all 
 others infinitely outshone : their lustre fading 
 away and disappearing as stars hefore the advanc- 
 ing light ! 
 
 But viewed as a medium of the most costly bles- 
 sings to the church of God, how precious a mystery 
 does the incarnation of our Lord appear ! The union 
 of the divine and the human in Immanuel, is the 
 re-union of God through the second Adam with fallen 
 man. The first Adam severed us from the Divine 
 nature — the second Adam re-unites us. The incar- 
 nation is the grand link between these two extremes 
 of being. It forms the verdant spot, the oasis in the 
 desert, of a ruined universe, on which God and the 
 sinner can meet together. Here are blended, in 
 marvellous union, the gloomy clouds of human w^oe, 
 and the bright beams of divine glory — God and man 
 united ! And will you, theist, rob me of this truth, 
 because of this truth, because of its mystery ? Will 
 you yourself reject it, because reason cannot grasp 
 it ? Then might I rob thee of thy God, (whom you 
 ignorantly worship,) because of his incomprehensi- 
 bleness, not one attribute of whom canst thou 
 understand or explain. No ! It is a truth too pre- 
 cious to part with so easily. G-od in my nature — my 
 Goel — my Brother — my Friend — my Counsellor — 
 my Guide — my Redeemer — my Pattern — my all ! 
 God in my 7iature — my w^isdom, my righteousness, 
 my sanctification, my redemption ! But for this 
 heaven-descending communication, of whicli the 
 6* 
 
78 THE pastor's request for 
 
 Patriarch's ladder was the symbol and the type, how 
 could the holy God advance towards me, or I draw 
 near to him ? But he takes my nature that he may 
 descend to me, and. he gives me his nature that I 
 may ascend to him. He stoops because I could not 
 rise ! O mystery of grace, wisdom, and love ! Shall 
 I doubt it ! I go to the manger of Bethlehem, and 
 gaze upon the infant Saviour. My faith is staggered, 
 and I exclaim, " Is tJds the son of God ?" Eetiring, 
 I track that infant's steps along its future path. I 
 mark the wisdom that he displayed, and I behold 
 the wonders that he wrought. I mark the revelations 
 that he disclosed, the doctrines that he propounded, 
 the precepts that he taught, the magnanimity that he 
 displayed. I follow him to Gethsemane, to the 
 judgment-hall, and then to Calvary, and I witness 
 the closing scene of wonder. I return to Bethlehem, 
 and with the evidences which my hesitating faith 
 has thus collected, I exclaim, with the awe-struck 
 and believing centurion, ^' Truly this is the Son of 
 God !" All the mystery of his lowly incarnation 
 vanishes, and my adoring soul embraces the incarnate 
 God within its arms. We marvel not that, hovering 
 over the spot where this great mysterj^ of godliness 
 transpired, the celestial choir, in the stillness of the 
 night, awoke such strains of music along the plains 
 of Bethlehem, as were never heard before. They left 
 the realms of glory to escort the Lord of glory in 
 his advent to our earth. How gladly they trooped 
 around him, thronging his wondrous way, their 
 benevolent bosoms dilating in sympathy with the 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. 79 
 
 grand object of his mission. And this was the 
 angel's message to the astonished shepherds : "Fear 
 not : for behold I bring you good tidings of great 
 jo}', which shall be to all people. For unto you is 
 born this day in the city of David, a Saviour, who 
 is Christ the Lord. And suddenly there was with 
 the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising 
 God, and saying. Glory be to God in the highest, 
 and on earth peace, and good-will to men." Shall 
 angels rejoice in the incarnation of the Son of God, 
 and our hearts be cold and unmoved ? Forbid it, 
 love, forbid it, gratitude, forbid it, my soul ! 
 
 The mystical union of Christ aiid his Church is also 
 declared to be one of the mysteries of the gospel. 
 " This is a great m^^stery," says the apostle, " but I 
 speak concerning Christ and his church." That 
 Christ and his people should be one — one as the 
 head and the body — the vine and the branch — the 
 foundation and the house — is indeed a wondrous 
 truth. We cannot understand how it is ; and yet so 
 many, palpable, and gracious are the blessings flow- 
 ing from it, we dare not reject it. All that a believer 
 is, as a living soul, he is from a vital union with 
 Christ. As the body w^ithout the soul is dead, so is 
 a sinner morally dead without union to Jesus. IsTot 
 only his life, but his fruitful ness is derived from this 
 source. All the " beauties of holiness" that adorn 
 his character, spring from the vital principle which 
 his engrafting into Christ produces. lie is skilful 
 to fight, and strong to overcome, and patient to en- 
 dure, and meek to sufi:er, and wise to walk, as he 
 
80 THE pastor's request for 
 
 lives on Christ for the grace of sanctification. 
 " Without me ye can do nothing.'' Is it not indeed 
 a mystery that I should so be one with Christ, that 
 all that he is becomes mine, and all that I am 
 becomes his ? — His glory mine, my humiliation his. 
 His righteousness mine, my guilt his. His joy mine 
 my sorrow his. Mine his riches, his my poverty. 
 Mine his life, his my death. Mine his heaven, his 
 my hell. The daily walk of faith is a continuous 
 development of the wonders of this wondrous truth : 
 That in travelling to him empty, I should return 
 from him fall. That in going to him weak, I should 
 come away from him strong. That in bending my 
 steps to him in all darkness, perplexity, and grief, 
 I should retrace them all light, and joy, and gladness. 
 Why marvel at this mystery of the life of faith ? My 
 oneness with Jesus explains it. 
 
 And what a mystery is the operation of the Holy 
 Spirit in the soul I That a work so renewing, so 
 gracious, and so holy, should ever transpire in the 
 heart of a poor sinner, is itself a wonder. What a 
 marvellous view of the power, nor less of the grace 
 of God, does it present ! Every step in the mighty 
 process awakens new amazement. The first con- 
 viction of sin that saddens the heart — the first beam 
 of light that illuminates the mind — the first touch 
 of faith that heals the soul, possesses more that is 
 truly wonderful than the sublimest mystery, or the 
 profoundest secret, in nature. There is more of 
 God in it: and the more of God, the more of won- 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. 81 
 
 der: and the more of wonder we see in his work 
 and operations, the more readily should reason 
 assent, and the more profoundly should faith adore. 
 The mystery of grace is illustrated by the mystery 
 of nature. " The wind hloweth where it listeth, 
 and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not 
 tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth : so is 
 every one that is born of the Spirit.'' I saw one but 
 as yesterday living without God, and in total 
 neglect of his soul's salvation. The solemn 
 eternity to which he was hastening, gave him not a 
 moment's serious concern. His heart was filled 
 with Pharisaical pride, worldly ambition, and 
 covetous desires. Self was his God — the only deity 
 he worshipped : the world was his paradise — the only 
 heaven he desired. To-day I see him the subject 
 of deep and powerful emotion ; a humble suppliant, 
 in the spirit of self-abasement, pleading for merc}^ 
 as the chief of sinners. What a change has come 
 over him ! How in a moment have old things 
 passed away, and all things become new ! And he 
 who but as yesterday was dwelling among the 
 tombs, himself dead in trespasses and sins, to-day is 
 sitting as a lowly disciple and an adoring worship- 
 per at the feet of Jesus, "Whence this wondrous 
 transformation — this new creation ? Oh, it was the 
 Spirit of God who wrought it, and the work is mar- 
 vellous in our eyes ! 
 
 l^or do the sustaining and the carrj'ing forward 
 of this work of grace in the soul unfold less of the 
 wonderful power of God the Holy Spirit. When 
 
82 THE pastor's request for 
 
 we take into consideration the mass whicli the 
 little leaven of grace has to transform — the extent 
 of that revolted territory which the new kingdom 
 has to subjugate to itself — then the sustaining and 
 the perfecting of this work is one continued miracle 
 of wonder. To see one strong in conscious weak- 
 ness — maintaining his position in the face of much 
 opposition — buoyed up amidst billows of sorrow — 
 growing in grace in the midst of circumstances 
 the most unfavourable — witnessing for God and 
 his truth at the loss of family affection and long- 
 endeared friendship — is a spectacle that must fill 
 the mind with adoring thoughts of the love and 
 faithfulness and power of that divine Spirit whose 
 work it is. 
 
 There are other doctrines comprehended in the 
 gospel which equally come under the denomination 
 of mysterious. Such is the doctrine of the resur- 
 rection of the body. "Behold," says the apostle in 
 his splendid argument on this subject, "I show you 
 a r)iystery : w^e shall not all sleep, but w^e shall all be 
 changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, 
 at the last trumpet ; for the trumpet shall sound, 
 and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we 
 shall be changed." And yet shall it be thought a 
 thing incredible that God should raise the dead ? 
 He who could call into existence that which w^as 
 not, shall be baffled in recalling into existence that 
 which was? Why, then, should we reject the 
 doctrine of the resurrection, because the process of 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. 83 
 
 resuscitating the identical dead, God has concealed 
 in profound mystery? 
 
 These are some of the gospel mysteries which the 
 apostle desired to make known. lie admitted that 
 they were mysterious — mysteries which he could 
 not fully unravel. It was enough for him that they 
 were so revealed. He bowed his masculine intel- 
 lect to the truth: and what his mighty reason 
 could not comprehend, his humble faith implicitly 
 and gratefully received. We may learn much from 
 this. Let no minister of the gospel withhold any 
 part, or doctrine, or truth of God's word, because it 
 is "hard to be understood." Our functions are 
 limited. We are but the expositors of what God 
 has seen most consistent with his glory to make 
 known. We are not to unloose seals which he has 
 not broken, nor attempt to ascribe reasons for what 
 he has seen fit to conceal. " He giveth no account 
 of any of his matters." All revealed truth is 
 unquahfiedly to be declared. The doctrines of 
 grace^ towering though they do above the compre- 
 hension of carnal reason, and humbling though 
 they are to human pride, are yet fully and broadly 
 to be stated. " Even so. Father ; for so it seem- 
 eth good in thy sight," is the only answer we 
 should give to him who dareth to " reply against 
 God." O for grace to preach as God has command- 
 ed ; neither taking from, nor adding to, his revealed 
 word ! 
 
 It may be profitable for a moment to contemplate 
 tlie spirit in which the apostle desired to make 
 
84 THE pastoe's bequest for 
 
 known this mystery of the gospel. The two 
 blessings which he craved through the prayers of 
 his flock were, utterance and boldness. " That 
 utterance may be given unto me, that I may open 
 my mouth boldly to make known the mystery of 
 the gospel." The first which Paul desired was 
 unfettered utterance. He knew that He who made 
 man's mouth could only open his lips to proclaim 
 the unsearchable riches of Christ. Great as were 
 his natural endowments, and rich and varied as 
 were his intellectual acquirements, he felt their in- 
 adequacy when working alone. We should never 
 fail to distinguish between the natural eloquence of 
 man, and the holy utterance which the Spirit gives. 
 Paul had splendid gifts, and commanding powers 
 of elocution. But what were they ? He needed 
 more — he asked for more. Dear reader, if the 
 ministry of reconciliation comes to your soul with 
 any power or sweetness, remember whose it is. 
 Give not to man, but to God, the glory. Be very 
 jealous for the honour of the Spirit in the ministry 
 of the word. It is " spirit and life" to you only as 
 he gives utterance to him that speaketh. It is 
 mournful to observe to what extent the idolatry of 
 human talent and eloquence is carried, and how 
 little glory is given to the Holy Spirit in the gospel 
 ministry. But there was yet another ministerial 
 qualification which Paul sought. He desired to be 
 unshackled from the fear of man : " That I may 
 open my mouth boldly.'' Had we heard him utter 
 this r(>quopt, wo might have been constrained to 
 
THE PnAYimS OF HIS FLOCK. 85 
 
 reply, " Do you desire bolduess ? You are the most 
 coiirngeous aud intrepid of the apostles. You fear 
 no man." Ah ! we forget that when God stirs up 
 the heart of a believer deeply to feel his need, and 
 earnestly to desire any particular grace of the 
 Spirit, that grace will be the distinguishing trait of 
 his Christian character. The very possession and 
 exercise of a grace strengthen the desire for its 
 increase. The more we have of Christ, the more 
 we desire of Christ. The heart is never satiated. 
 Do we see a man earnest and importunate in prayer 
 for faith? faith will be his distinguishing grace. 
 See we another wrestling with God for deep views 
 of the evil of sin ? that man will be marked for 
 his liumble walk with God. Is it love that he 
 desires ? his will be a loving spirit. Be sure of this 
 — the more you know of the value and the sweet- 
 ness of any single grace of the Spirit, the more 
 ardently will your heart be led out after an increase 
 of that grace. The reason why our desires for 
 grace are so faint, may be traced to the small 
 measure of grace that we already possess. The 
 very feebleness of the desire proves the littleness 
 of the supply. As all holy desire springs from 
 grace, so the deeper the grace the more fervent will 
 be the desire. The Lord rouse us from our slothful 
 seeking of him upon our beds ! 
 
 Here, then, is the apostle desiring boldness : yet 
 who so bold in preaching Jesus as he ? It was the 
 master-spirit — the distinguishing trait of his minis- 
 try. At the very commencement of his Christian 
 8 
 
86 THE pastor's request for 
 
 career, when even the disciples stood in doubt of 
 him, we find him "speaking boldly in the name 
 of the Lord Jesus." Acts ix. 29. The down was 
 scarcely upon his wing, yet see how the eaglet 
 soars ! What promise of bolder flight and of 
 fiercer intrepidity ! One can almost see the white- 
 haired martyr in the Christian stripling. But just 
 freed from the chain of Satan, we yet see at once 
 the future character of the man — the fearless 
 apostle of the Gentiles. His boldness never forsook 
 him. His moral courage never failed him. He 
 was never awed into silence by superior rank, nor 
 brow-beaten into cowardice by vulgar threatening. 
 Flattery never seduced, danger never alarmed him. 
 Whether a friend or criminal, fidelity and fear- 
 lessness were his strong characteristics. Whether 
 among the polished or the rude, the lettered sceptics 
 of Athens or the ignorant barbarians of Malta, he 
 was the same ; a dignified and graceful, but bold 
 and uncompromising preacher of Jesus Christ. 
 And yet this was the man who now was entreating 
 the prayers of God's people, that he might with 
 freedom of utterance and undaunted boldness make 
 known the mystery of the gospel ! 
 
 And who should be bold if not the ministers of 
 the gospel ? How can they be faithful and efficient 
 preachers of the truth, if awed by a corrupt public 
 sentiment, or fettered by a pusillanimous fear of 
 man ? How much is the glory of the truth shaded, 
 and its power impaired, and the dignity of their 
 office compromised, by the man-pleasing, nian-fear- 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. 87 
 
 ing spirit which, alas, so much prevails ! We meet 
 with boldness everywhere : Satan is bold in his onset 
 upon the church of Christ. Sin is bold in develop- 
 ing its dark designs. Error is bold in its attacks 
 upon truth. Men are bold in disseminating soul- 
 destroying doctrines, and in following corrupt and 
 superstitious practices. The whole kingdom of 
 darkness and of sin is moving on to the coming 
 battle with the kingdom of Christ, with a boldness 
 of enterprise and of attack w^hich fills the mind with 
 awe and wonder. And is the ministry of reconcili- 
 ation, of truth and of holiness to be the only excep- 
 tion ? " Is it at all congruous that men should have 
 boldness enough to declare their sins, to speak them, 
 to proclaim them, to wear them, to glory in them ; 
 and that those officers who are sent for no other 
 business but, in the name and authority of Al- 
 mighty God, to fight against the corruptions of the 
 world, should, in the mean time, hang down the 
 head and be tongue-tied? that men should have 
 more boldness to destroy themselves, and to do 
 Satan's work, than w^e to save them, or to serve 
 God ? 1^0 ! it is not congruous that men should be 
 bold and fearless in sinning against God, and in 
 plunging into hell ; and that those who are sent to 
 warn, and to expostulate, and to save, shall be time- 
 serving, man-pleasing, and cowardly in the dis- 
 charge of their high and solemn trust." 
 
 And was ever boldness a more needed qualification 
 of the Christian ministry than now ? Error is ram- 
 pant — the truth is assailed on every side — the 
 
88 THE PASTOE S REQUEST FOR 
 
 enemy is coming in like a flood — the ancient land- 
 marks are removed — false teachers are beguiling 
 souls — men who "seemed to be pillars" are as 
 reeds shaken by the wind — and but few preach a 
 whole gospel and a full Christ. Yerily, never were 
 holy intrepidity and nncompromising fearlessness, 
 in contending earnestly for the faith, more urgently 
 demanded than at the present moment ! 
 
 We have now reached, perhaps by a too lengthy 
 discussion, the specific subject of this chapter: one, 
 it must be admitted, of universal interest and of high 
 importance, yet not often brought before the Chris- 
 tian church. We allude to the necessity of prayer in 
 behalf of the Christian pastor. It was through this 
 channel the Apostle sought the ministerial fitness 
 which he craved : " Praying always with all prayer 
 and supplication in the Spirit, and for me.'' ISTot in 
 this instance only does he cast himself upon the 
 intercessions of the saints. Thus he writes to the 
 church at Rome : " Now I beseech you, brethren, 
 for the Lord Jesus Christ's sake, and for the love of 
 the Spirit, that ye strive together with me in your 
 prayers to God for me'' And then he proceeds to 
 specify the petitions he would have them make on 
 his behalf, Rom. xv. 30. In 2 Corinthians i. 11, he 
 again pleads, "Ye also helping together hy grayer 
 for us." In Phihppians i. 19: "For I know that 
 this shall turn to my salvation through your prayer^ 
 and the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ." In 
 Colos. iv. 3, " Withal praying also for ics, that God 
 would open unto us a door of utterance to speak the 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. 80 
 
 mystery of Christ." How significant is this lan- 
 guage, and how touching are these appeals ! The 
 solemn earnestness which is here hetrayed, is no 
 expression of feeling exaggerated heyond the import- 
 ance of the object eliciting it. There are many 
 weighty and solemn considerations, to a few of 
 which we may allude, which powerfully plead for 
 the prayers of the church of God in behalf of her 
 ministers and pastors. The first which may be 
 adduced is — 
 
 The magnitude of their work. A greater work than 
 theirs was never entrusted to mortal hands, '^o 
 angel employed in the celestial embassy bears a 
 commission of higher authorit}^, or wings his way 
 to discharge a duty of such extraordinary greatness 
 and responsibility. He is a minister of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ — an ambassador from the court of 
 heaven — a preacher of the glorious gospel of the 
 blessed God — a steward of the mysteries of the king- 
 dom. Properly to fill this high office — giving to 
 the household their portion of meat in due season — 
 going down into the mine of God's word, and bring- 
 ing forth to the view of every understanding its hid- 
 den treasures — to set forth the glory of Immanuel, 
 the fitness of his work, and the fulness of his grace 
 — to be a scribe well instructed, " rightly dividing 
 the word of truth," — to be wise and skilful to win 
 souls, the grand end of the Christian ministry — oh, 
 who so much needs the sustaining prayers of the 
 church as the Ministers of the Christian church ? 
 8* 
 
90 THE pastor's request for 
 
 Secondly. The gainful sense of their insufficiency 
 supplies another affecting plea. For an office so 
 high, how unworthy do they at times feel, and how 
 imperfectly furnished with grace and gift for a work 
 which 
 
 " Might fill an angel's hands, 
 Which filled the Saviour's heart," 
 
 do they appear to themselves to be ! Who are min- 
 isters of Christ ? Are they angels ? Are they super- 
 human beings ? Are they inspired ? 'Nay, thej are 
 men in all respects like others. They partake of 
 like infirmities, are the subjects of like assaults, and 
 are estranged from nothing that is human. As the 
 heart knoweth its own bitterness, so they only are 
 truly aware of the existence and incessant operation 
 of those many and clinging weaknesses of which 
 they partake in sympathy with others. And yet God 
 has devolved upon them a work which would crush 
 an angel's power if left to his self-sustaining energy. 
 Oppressed often to the very earth with the con- 
 sciousness of this, is it incongruous with a pastor's 
 dignity and character that he should still acknow- 
 ledge his dependence upon the prayers of the fee- 
 blest member of his flock ? 
 
 Thirdly. The many and peculiar trials of the min- 
 istry and the pastoj^ate ask this favour at our hands. 
 These are peculiar to, and inseparable from, the 
 office that he fills. In addition to those of which 
 he partakes alike with other Christians — personal, 
 domestic, and relative — there are trials to which 
 
THE PRAYERS OP HIS FLOCK. 91 
 
 they must necessarily be utter strangers. And as 
 they are unknown to, so are they unrelievable by, 
 the people of their charge. "With all the sweetness 
 of affection, and the tenderness of sympathy, and 
 the delicacy of attention, w^hich you tender to your 
 pastor, there is yet a lack which Jesus only can 
 supply, and which, through the channel of your 
 prayers, he ^vill supply. In addition to his own, he 
 bears the burthens of others. How impossible 
 for an affectionate, sympathizing pastor to sepa- 
 rate himself from the circumstances of his flock, be 
 those circumstances what they may ! So close and 
 so sympathetic is the bond of union, — if they suffer, 
 he mourns ; if they are afflicted, he w^eeps ; if they 
 are dishonoured, he is reproached; if they rejoice, 
 he is glad. He is one w-ith his church. How feel- 
 ingly the apostle expresses this ! " Besides those 
 things that are without, that which cometh upon 
 me daily, the care of all the churches. Who is weak, 
 and I am not weak? who is offended, and I burn 
 not?" To see a Christian pastor, in addition to 
 his own personal grief, borne often in uncomplain- 
 ing loneliness and silence, yet bowed down under 
 accumulated sorrow^s not his own — others looking: 
 to him for sympathy, for comfort, and for counsel, 
 is a spectacle which might well arouse in behalf of 
 every Christian pastor, the slumbering spirit of 
 prayer. We marvel not to hear the chief of the apos- 
 tles thus pleading, "Brethren pray for us." 
 
 Fourthly. Your own j^f^'^^sonal i^rofit through his 
 ministrations lays you under the deepest and most 
 
92 THE pastor's request for 
 
 solemn obligation to give your pastor, in return, an 
 especial and constant interest in your interces- 
 sions at the mercy-seat. Paul could say to the Phil- 
 ippians, " Ye are partakers of my grace." Most true 
 is it, that in the grace bestowed by God upon a 
 Christian pastor, all the members of the flock share. 
 They partake of that which belongs to him. All 
 the grace with which he is enriched — all the gifts 
 with which he is endowed — all the acquirements 
 with which he is furnished — all the afflictions with 
 which he is visited — all the comforts with which he 
 is soothed — all the strength with which he is upheld 
 — all the distinction and renown with which he is 
 adorned — belong alike to the church over which 
 God has made him an overseer. There is in the pas- 
 toral relation a community of interest. He holds 
 that grace, and he exercises those gifts, not on ac- 
 count of his own personal holiness and happiness 
 merely, but w^ith a view to your holiness and happi- 
 ness. You are partakers with him. You are en- 
 riched by his ' fatness ' or are impoverished by his 
 leanness.' The degree of his grace will be the mea- 
 sure of your own. The amount of his intelligence, 
 the extent of 3X)urs. As he is taught and blessed 
 by Christ, so will you be. The glory which he gath- 
 ers in communion with God will irradiate you : the 
 grace which he draws from Jesus will sanctify you ; 
 the wealth which he collects from the study of the 
 Bible will enrich you. Thus, in all things, are you 
 "partakers of his grace." How important, then, 
 that on all occasions he should be a partaker of 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. 93 
 
 your prayers ! Thus your own best interests are his 
 strongest plea. Your profit by him will be propor- 
 tioned to your prayer for him. 
 
 To the neglect of this important duty, much of 
 the barrenness complained of in hearing the word 
 may be traced. You have, perhaps, been wont to 
 retire from God's house, cavilling at the doctrine, 
 dissecting the sermon in a spirit of captious criti- 
 cism, sitting in judgment upon the matter or the 
 manner of the preacher, and bitterly complaining of 
 the unprofitableness of the preaching. With all 
 tender faithfulness would we lay the question upon 
 your conscience. — How much do you pray for your 
 minister? We repeat the interrogation more em- 
 phatically, — Hoiv much do you pray for your minis- 
 ter f Here, in all probability, lies the secret of the 
 great evil which you deplore. You have com- 
 plained of your minister to others — (alas ! how often, 
 and how bitterly, to your deep humiliation be it 
 spoken) — have you complained of him to the Lord ? 
 And have you ever seriously pondered the fact, that 
 your soul's barrenness under the preached word ^ 
 of which you seem in some degree aware — may, in 
 a great degree, be traceable to yourself 1. The sur- 
 mise, perhaps, startles you. The thought may never 
 have occurred to your mind before. ISTew and 
 strange though it may be, it is yet worthy of your 
 profoundest consideration. Have you never serious- 
 ly reflected how closely allied may be the deficiency 
 in the pulpit, of which you complain, to your own 
 deficiency in the closet, of which you have not been 
 
94 THE pastor's request for 
 
 aware? You have restrained prayer in belialf of 
 your pastor. You have neglected to remember in 
 especial, fervent intercession with the Lord, the in- 
 strument on whom your advancement in the divine 
 life so much depends. You have looked up to him 
 as a channel of grace, but you have failed to ask at 
 the hands of Jesus that grace of which he is hut the 
 channel. You have waited upon his ministrations 
 for instruction and comfort, but you have neglected 
 to beseech for him that teaching and anointing by 
 which alone he could possibly establish you in truth, 
 or console you in sorrow. You have perhaps ob- 
 served a poverty of thought, and have been sensible 
 of a lack of power in his ministrations, but you have 
 not traced it in part to your own poverty and lack 
 in the spirit and habit of prayer in his behalf. You 
 have marvelled and lamented the absence of sympa- 
 thy and feeling and tenderness, in the discharge of 
 his pastoral duties, but you have forgotten to sym- 
 pathize with the high responsibilities, and oppres- 
 sive anxieties, and bewildering engagements, in- 
 separable from the office which your pastor fills, and 
 in which he may largely share, often " pressed out 
 of measure, above strength, insomuch that he may 
 despair even of life." Thus in a great degree the 
 cause of an unprofitable hearing of the word may 
 be found nearer at home than was suspected. There 
 has been a suspension of sympathy on your part, 
 and God has permitted a suspension of sympathy on 
 his. 
 
 "If a man could, when he enters God's house,'* 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. 95 
 
 to quote an apposite remark of the godly Bishop 
 Reynolds, "but pour out his heart in these two 
 things — a promise and a prayer, — 'Lord, I am 
 now entering into thy presence, to hear thee speak 
 from heaven unto me, to receive thy rain and 
 spiritual dew, which never returneth in vain, but 
 ripeneth a harvest either of corn or weeds, of grace 
 or judgment. My heart is prepared, Lord, my 
 heart is prepared, to learn and love any of thy 
 words. Thy law is my counsellor, I will be ruled 
 by it ; it is my physician, I will be patient under it ; 
 it is my schoolmaster, I will be obedient unto it. 
 But who am I that I should promise any service 
 unto thee ? and who is thy minister, that he should 
 do any good unto me, without thy grace and 
 heavenly call ? Be thou, therefore, pleased to reveal 
 thine own Spirit unto me, and to w^ork in me that 
 which thou requirest of me.' I say, if a man 
 could come with such sweet preparations of heart 
 unto the word, and could thus open his soul when 
 this spiritual manna falls down from heaven, he 
 should find the truth of that which the Apostle 
 s^^eaketh. ' Ye are not straitened in us, (or in our 
 ministry,) we come unto you with abundance of 
 grace ; but ye are straitened only in your own 
 bowels, in the hardness, unbelief, incapacity, and 
 negligence of your own hearts, which receiveth that 
 in drops w^hich falleth down in showers.' We 
 exhort the people to pray for their ministers, since 
 they have a service upon them which, without 
 divine grace, none are sufficent for, that God would 
 
96 THE pastor's request for 
 
 by his special assistance, enable them to discharge 
 so great a trust. God commands it; we beseech 
 it ; our weakness courts it ; your souls require it. 
 The more you pray for your minister, the more you 
 will profit by him. You help to edify yourselves ; 
 you help him to study, and pray, and preach for you, 
 while you pray for him." 
 
 Oh ye flocks of the Lord, ye churches of Christ, 
 ye saints of the Most High, fray^ pray for your 
 ministers ! ISTo one more deeply needs, no one more 
 affectingly asks your prayers than he. For you he 
 toils in the study, wrestles in the closet, and labours 
 in the pulpit. For your best welfare he consecrates 
 his youthful vigour, his mature experience, his de- 
 clining years. To you he has been the channel of 
 untold blessing. Often has the Lord spoken through 
 him to your oppressed heart, thoughts of peace and 
 words of love. He has often been instrumental in 
 removing doubt from your mind, in clearing up 
 points of truth that were hard to be understood, and 
 in building you up on your most holy faith. Often, 
 too, has he been the means of endearing Christ to 
 you, leading you to him as a Counsellor, as a 
 Brother, as a Friend, and as a Redeemer, thus un- 
 veiling his glory to your eye, and his preciousness 
 to your heart. Perhaps he first told you of Jesus ! 
 From his lips you heard the life-giving sound of the 
 gospel ; by him you were wounded, by him you were 
 healed, and by his hands you were received within 
 the pale of the visible church. Oh, then, is it an 
 unreasonable request that he should ask especial 
 
THE PRAYERS OF HIS FLOCK. 97 
 
 remembrance in the petitions which you breathe to 
 God for " all the saints ?" Think how often you have 
 filled his mind with thoughtfulness, his heart with 
 anxiety, his eyes with tears, his mouth with holy 
 and fervent pleadings at the throne of grace. Then, 
 will you not continue to pray for your pastor? 
 Gratitude demands it. Remember him not in your 
 petitions on ordinary occasions merely, but let there 
 be especial seasons of prayer set apart for him alone. 
 Particularly if you know him to be passing through a 
 season of trial, or sorrow, or mental anxiety, take 
 him constantly and especially to the Lord. You need 
 not know the cause of that sorrow. Proper feelings 
 dictating, you will not wish to know. It will be 
 enough for you that with delicacy of perception you 
 have seen the shade of sadness on his brow ; the look 
 of anxiety in his eye ; the expression of deep thought- 
 fulness upon his countenance ; you will instantly take 
 him in your heart to the Lord. And oh ! who can un- 
 fold the extent of the blessing which your prayers may 
 thus be the channel of convejdng to his soul ? You 
 may deem yourself, my reader, but an insignificant 
 member of the flock. The grace which the Lord 
 has given you may constrain you to think meanly 
 of yourself, and to retire into the shade ; but mean 
 and feeble though you may be in your own eyes, 
 yet you have power with God in prayer. See you 
 yon little cloud sailing athwart that blue sky ? It 
 has absorbed its precious treasures from some hidden 
 spring, and, guided by God's invisible hand, is going 
 to unbosom itself upon some parched and thirsty 
 9 
 
98 THE pastor's request, etc. 
 
 spot, refreshing, gladdening, and fruetifying it. The 
 little rivulet, that flows noiseless and unseen from 
 that shaded spot, has thus transmitted from its 
 sequestered glen an influence felt far beyond it, and 
 to an extent it never conceived and never can know. 
 Such, dear reader, may be the character and such 
 the results of your intercessions in behalf of your 
 pastor. Silver and gold you have none to ofier him. 
 He asks not this at your hands. But jour prai/ers 
 you may give, and ^our prayers he does ask. He 
 beseeches you, earnestly and afiectingly, for the Lord 
 Jesus Christ's sake, and for the love of the Spirit, 
 that you strive in your prayers to G-odfor him. And 
 oh ! the hallowing, gladdening influence which those 
 prayers may shed upon his mind — eternity alone 
 can reveal ! The return of blessing to yourself will 
 be incalculable and immense. The moisture absorbed 
 from the earth returns again to the earth in grateful 
 and refreshing showers. And thus every prayer 
 which you in fervency and in faith breathe to heaven 
 for your pastor, will, through him, return again in 
 ' showers of blessing' upon your own soul. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A WORD IN SEASON FROM CHRIST TO 
 THE WEARY. 
 
 " The Lord God hath given me the tongue of the learned, that I 
 should know how to speak a word in season to him that is weary." — 
 ISA. 1. 4. 
 
 A GREATER thaii the prophet Isaiah is here. It is 
 even He who, alkiding to his office as the sei^ant 
 of the Father, and the consequent humihation of 
 that servitude, thus speaks — " The Lord God hath 
 opened my ear, and I was not rebehious, neither 
 turned away back. I gave my back to the smiters, 
 and my cheeks to them that plucked off the hair. 
 I hid not my face from shame and spitting." Who, 
 then, is the speaker but Jesus ? To no other will 
 this remarkable description apply, and from no 
 other could such precious words proceed. How 
 full of significance and sweetness are they ! With 
 what melody will they fall on many an ear, and 
 with what gladness will they thrill through many a 
 heart ! They are addressed to the weary. Let us 
 contemplate the character. 
 
 It comprises a large class. Many there are who 
 come within its description. All may not ascribe 
 their weariness to the same cause, nor may all to 
 
 (99) 
 
100 A WORD IN SEASON FROM 
 
 the same des-ree be sensible of their state. Yet all 
 are weary. Man is not naturally in his original and 
 right position. The needle of his soul has been 
 diverted from its centre, and, until it regains it, 
 will continue in incessant and tremulous motion — 
 never at rest. To illustrate the thought by another 
 figure. He v^ho quits his mother earth and 
 launches upon the sea, must submit to all the 
 caprices of the new element on which he has 
 embarked. He becomes the sport of every current, 
 aud the plaything of every wave. Life is this sea, 
 ever moving, ever restless, ever flowing on. Upon 
 its bosom, and exposed to its currents and its 
 storms, man is voyaging to eternity. And that, 
 thus exposed to its ever fluctuating, shifting scenes, 
 habits, and passions, he should be weary, can create 
 no surprise in a reflecting mind. The world is a 
 wearying and a weary world. 
 
 We will suppose ourselves appealing for the truth 
 of this statement to the world's most admiring and 
 devoted votary. It has lavished upon you the 
 utmost that it can give. You have ransacked its 
 treasures, and have revelled among his sweets. 
 What have you found it to be? You have no 
 scriptural hope of another and a better world — 
 what is the result of your experience of this ? Did 
 that green and sunny spot on which you la}^ afford 
 you repose? Did that pleasant draught which you 
 quaffed, slake your thirst ? Have rank and wealth, 
 honour and distinction, pride and beauty, love and 
 friendship, realized the heart's fond hope, and placed 
 
. CHRIST TO THE WEARY. 101 
 
 you beyond the reach of weariness ! Have they 
 left you nothing to wish, nothing to desire, nothing 
 to lament ? Is there no heaving of life's sea — no 
 ripple upon its surface — no trembling of its bosom ? 
 Is all satisfaction, and quietude, and repose ? We 
 will anticipate your honest reply — Far from it. 
 There are yet a craving and a restlessness which 
 nothing has met. So true is God's word, "The 
 wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot 
 rest." And so will it be until the creature man 
 returns to his Creator God. 
 
 But not in the world of sense only do you complain 
 of weariness. What rest, we would ask, have you 
 found in the world of faith ! Again the reluctant 
 and mournful reply will be — None. Least of all 
 have you found it here. If the carnal mind and 
 sensual heart found not satiety and repose in their 
 own native world, they cannot be expected to find 
 it in a world with which they have not the slightest 
 sympathy. The world of faith is a foreign clime to 
 the natural man ; it is the antipodes of the world 
 of sense. He that would pass from the one to the 
 other must become a "new creature in Christ 
 Jesus." There must be an entire revolution of 
 mind and of feeling. Old things must pass away, 
 and all things must become new. The moral 
 constitution must be acclimated (so to speak) to the 
 new world into which it is introduced. It cannot 
 breathe its atmosphere, nor admire its scenery, nor 
 enjoy its delights, nor participate in its employments 
 without a corresponding nature. It is impossible that 
 9* 
 
102 A WORD IN SEASON FROM 
 
 rest can be found in things that are spiritual, by a 
 heart all whose desires and appetites are carnal and 
 only carnal. Heaven itself would to such a one 
 cease to be heaven. How truly and graphically the 
 prophet describes this state ; — " Ye said also, Behold 
 what a weariness is it ! and ye have snuffed at it, 
 saith the Lord of hosts." (Mai. i. 13.) Is there not 
 something peculiarly awful in this description of 
 your state ? "What a weariness do you find in the 
 religion of Christ ! Of 'prayer you exclaim, "What 
 a weariness!" Oi public ?«;ors7i2p, " What ?l weari- 
 ness!'' Oi hearing servio72s. ''■What ^weariness T' 
 Of religious conversation, " What a weariness !'* 
 Of the se7wice and work of the Lord, " What a ivear- 
 iness !" " And ye have snuffed at it, saith the 
 Lord of hosts." O awful condition ! O melancholy 
 state! The world heaving like an angry sea 
 beneath your feet — the heavens lowering and threat- 
 ening above your head ! Things temporal and 
 things spiritual alike affording no repose to your 
 agitated and restless mind! How true is God's 
 word ; "The wicked are like the troubled sea when 
 it cannot rest, whose w^aters cast up mire and dirt. 
 There is no peace, saith my God, to the wricked." 
 Unconverted reader ! this is your present character, 
 and this your present state ! 
 
 But these are not the " weary " to whom this 
 passage especially addresses itself. They are the 
 Lord's weary ones — souls quickened, aroused, made 
 sensible of their condition, and led to seek and to 
 find their rest in Jesus. , " Him that is weary." 
 
CHRIST TO THE WEARY. 103 
 
 The character may be regarded as descriptive of 
 grace in its earliest and weakest unfoldings. When 
 the Holy Spirit first enlightens and convinces, he 
 produces a restlessness in the soul, which all created 
 good refuses to meet. Previously to this, sin was 
 not felt to be a burthen, guilt produced no anxiety, 
 eternity no fearfulness, and evil habits were not 
 felt to be a galling and oppressive chain bound 
 around the soul. The world's insufficiency was 
 indeed acknowledged, and the soul's restlessness 
 was felt ; but still sin was loved, and the world was 
 followed, and there was no brokenness of heart, nor 
 contrition of spirit, nor going to Jesus for rest. 
 "With others it was, perhaps, somewhat different. 
 There was just awakening enough to produce alarm 
 and anxiety of soul : sufficient light to reveal the 
 pollution and the darkness ; and knowledge enough 
 to teach the necessity of a righteousness in which 
 to stand before God. To work out that righteous- 
 ness, and so find rest, was the object upon which 
 the whole soul was bent. Circuitous was its march, 
 toilsome its work, and wearisome its way. " Do this 
 and live," was all the sound it heard, the only gospel 
 it knew. " What shall I do ?" was its mournful and 
 despairing reply. But the Spirit of God takes the 
 work into his own hands. And what a revolution 
 of thought and of feeling transpires ! Sin is now 
 felt to be a heavy burthen, hateful and hated. 
 Past iniquities rise before the eye like Alp piled 
 upon Alp, or roll over the soul, like wave succeed- 
 ing wave The spirituality of the law is seen, its 
 
104 A WORD IN SEASON FROM 
 
 curse is felt, its condemnation is dreaded. In a 
 word, the whole soul is laid prostrate at the feet 
 of Jesus, wear}^ and heavily laden. But oh ! we 
 may pronounce it, blessed weariness ! sweet broken- 
 ncss and contrition ! Show me the spot on which 
 Jehovah's eyes rest with delight, and over which 
 angels hover and rejoice, and you take me to one 
 whose heart God has made soft, whose spirit is 
 contrite, who mourns for sin, repenting in dust and 
 in ashes. This is weariness indeed ! Reader, hast 
 thou felt thy sins, and not thy sins only, but thine 
 own righteousness to be a burthensome and a w^eari- 
 some thing, too heavy for thee to bear? Then, thou 
 art included in the number of the Lord's w^eary 
 ones, and may come and take thy place with them 
 at his feet, and hear the words he would s]3eak to 
 thee. 
 
 The Lord's weary ones, too, include all those who 
 feel the burthen of the body of sin, and are cast down 
 and weary, by reason of the difficulties and the 
 greatness of the v/ay. The Lord's people are em- 
 phatically a weary people. It is a "weary land" 
 through w^hich they are passing: it is no marvel 
 that they should be faint, even though pursuing. 
 Here is the cause of the greatest weariness. ITot 
 more truly does the "whole creation groan and 
 travail in pain," than does he w^ho "bears about 
 with him the body of sin and of death, day by day." 
 It is indeed to him a continual and unrelievable 
 pressure. " Who will deliver me from the body of 
 sin and of death ?" is his constant and mournful 
 
CHRIST TO THE WEARY. 105 
 
 cry. It is the union of the opposites in him that 
 creates his burthen. Life and death — holiness and 
 sin — grace and nature — are in perpetual, and often 
 fierce combat. In this lies the inward conflict. 
 This is the fight of faith. Until life was breathed, 
 and holiness w^as created, and grace was given, 
 there were no oppressions, and no warfare, and no 
 weariness. Think of this, ye burthened and 
 oppressed saints of God! Let this thought fall 
 like a sunbeam upon your gloomy and saddened 
 spirit. Let it cheer you in your cloudy and dark 
 day. Wert thou dead, wert thou still in unrenewed 
 nature, thou wouldst be an utter stranger to this 
 weariness : and could never understand the mean- 
 ing of the apostle, ^'I see another law in my 
 members, warring against the law of my mind, 
 and bringing me into captivity to the law of sin 
 which is in my members." 
 
 The assaults of the adversary contribute not a 
 little to the sense of weariness which often prostrates 
 a child of God. To be set up as a mark for Satan : 
 the enemy smitting where sensibility is the keenest, 
 assailing where w^eakness is the greatest, taking 
 advantage of every new position and circumstance, 
 — especially of a season of trial, of a weak, 
 nervous temperament, or of a time of sickness — 
 distorting God's character, diverting the eye from 
 Christ, and turning it upon self — are among Satan's 
 devices for casting down the soul of a dear believer. 
 And then, there are the narrowness of the narrow 
 way, and the intricacies of the intricate way, and 
 
106 A WORD IN SEASON FROM 
 
 the perils of the perilous way, tending to jade and 
 dispirit the soul. To walk in a path so narrow and 
 yet so dangerous, that the white garment must 
 needs be closely wrapped around ; to occupy a post 
 of duty so conspicuous, responsible, and difficult, 
 as to fix every eye, some gazing with undue 
 admiration, and others with keen and cold suspi- 
 cion, ready to detect and to censure any slight 
 irregularity — add not a little to the toilsomeness of 
 the way. Add to this, the numerous and varied 
 trials and afflictions which pave his pathway to 
 heaven ; his tenderest mercies often his acutest 
 trials, and his trials often weighing him to the 
 earth — and you have the outline of a melancholy 
 picture, of which he whose eye scans this page may 
 be the original. Does it surprise us, then, that 
 from the lips of such a one the exclamation often 
 rises, '' Oh that I had wings like a dove ! for then 
 would I fly away and be at rest. Lo, then would 
 I wander far off, and remain in the wilderness. 
 I would hasten my escape from the windy storm 
 and tempest." 
 
 It is to such the Lord Jesus now addresses him- 
 self in words most appropriate and animating, " The 
 Lord God hath given me the tongue of the learned, 
 that I should know how to speak a word in season 
 to him that is weary." His pre-eminent j^^?iess for 
 this peculiar and difficult office, is the first point 
 with which he would arrest the attention. " The 
 tongue of the learned." The Lord's qualification 
 will appear in two or three particulars. His identity 
 
CHRIST TO THE WEARY. 107 
 
 with their very nature describes him as well calcula- 
 ted to address himself to their case. Of the nature 
 thus oppressed and weary, he in part partook. But 
 for this, so infinitely removed had he been from their 
 condition, he had been incapable of meeting its pecu- 
 liar necessity. Absolute Deity could not, through 
 the medium of sympathy, have conveyed a word of 
 comfort to the weary. There had been wanting, not 
 the power to relieve, but the mode of relieving the 
 oppressed and sorrowful heart. There had been 
 needed the connecting and transmitting chain — the 
 heavenly highway of thought, of feeling, and of 
 sympathy — between these extremes of being, the 
 loving heart of God and the desolate heart of man. 
 Unacquainted with grief, untouched by sorrow, 
 unbeclouded by care, unaffected by weariness, an 
 absolute God could not possibly offer the succour 
 and the condolence which sympathetic feeling alone 
 could give, and which a jaded spirit and a sorrow- 
 touched, care-oppressed, and sin-beclouded soul 
 demanded. l!^or could angels afford the help required. 
 The only burthen which they know is the burthen 
 of love; and the only weariness they feel is the 
 weariness of ever-burning devotion and zeah It is 
 this which gives strength to their wings, and swift- 
 ness to their flight. They are represented as 
 " hearkening to the voice of the Lord," ready to 
 speed their way on some embass}^ of mercy and love. 
 In fulfilling this their ministry, their eye never slum- 
 bers, their pinions never droop. But we needed a 
 nature so constituted as to enter into, and, as it were, 
 
108 A WOUD IN SEASON FROM 
 
 become a part of the very weariness it sought to 
 relieve. Look at Jesus ! " Behold the many "With 
 weariness in every form he was intimate. He knew 
 what bodily weakness was. Do you not love to linger 
 in pensive thoughtfulness over that touching incident 
 of his life which describes him as sitting fatigued 
 upon Jacob's well ? "And being weary ^ he sat thus 
 upon the well." Picture him to your eye ! See the 
 dust upon his sandals — for he had walked forty 
 miles that day, — the sweat upon his brow, the air 
 of languor upon his countenance, and the jaded ex- 
 pression in his eye ! Do we deify his humanity ? 
 No ! It was real humanity — humanity like our own. 
 It is our joy, our boast, our glory, our salvation, that 
 he was really man, as he was truly God. 
 
 Consider, too, what he endured for man,/rom man. 
 This was no small part of the weariness of our 
 nature into which he entered. How soon did he 
 come to the end of the creature ! Alas ! the crea- 
 ture has an end, and sooner or later God brings us 
 to it, and in the exercise, too, of the tenderest love 
 of his heart. When most he needed its sheltering 
 protection, he found the creature a withered gourd, 
 — and he bore his sorrow alone; And when he 
 repaired to it for the refreshing of sympathy, he found 
 it a broken cistern, — and he panted in vain. Where 
 were his disciples now ? He was in trouble, but 
 there was no one to help ; he was in the storm, but 
 no one would know him ; refuge failed him, no man 
 cared for his soul ! He was in sorrow, but no bosom 
 proffered its pillow ; he was accused, but no tongue 
 
CHRIST TO THE WEARY. 109 
 
 was heard in its defence ; he was scourged, but no 
 arm was Ufted to repel ; he was condemned, but no 
 one vindicated his innocence, nor sought to arrest 
 his progess to the cross ! Oh, how fully did Jesus 
 realize the creature's nothingness, and so enter into 
 his people's condition of weariness. 
 
 Contemplate, too, the pressure that was often, we 
 might say always, upon his sensitive spirit. See him 
 bearing our sickness and our sorrows; more than 
 this, carrying our iniquities and our sins. Think 
 not that thy path is a lone one. The incarnate God 
 has trodden it before thee, and he can give thee the 
 clear eye of faith to descry his foot-print in every 
 step. Jesus can say, and he does say to thee, " I 
 know thy sorrow ; I know what that cross is, for I 
 have carried it. Thou hast not a burthen that I did 
 not bear, nor a sorrow that I did not feel, nor a pain 
 that I did not endure, nor a path that I did not tread, 
 nor a tear that did not bedew my eye, nor a cloud 
 that did not shade my spirit, before thee, and for 
 thee. Is it bodily weakness ? I once walked forty 
 miles, to carry the living water to a poor sinner at 
 Samaria. Is it the sorrow of bereavement ^ I wept 
 at the grave of my friend, although I knew that I 
 was about to recall the loved one back again to life. 
 Is it ih.Q frailty and the fickleness of human friendship ? 
 I stood by and heard my person denied by lips that 
 once spake kindly to me ; lips now renouncing me 
 with an oath that once vowed afiection unto death. 
 Is it straitness of circumstancey the galling sense of 
 dependence f I was no stranger to poverty, and was 
 10 
 
110 A WORD IN SEASON FROM 
 
 often nourislied and sustained by tlic charity of 
 otliers. Is it that thou, art houseless ^md friendless f 
 So was I. The foxes hied them to their shelter, and 
 the birds winged them to their nests, but I, though 
 Lord of all, had not where to lay 7717/ head; and 
 often day after day passed away, and no soothing 
 accents of friendship fell upon my ear. Is it the 
 burthen of sin 9 Even that I bore in its accumulated 
 and tremendous weight when I hung accursed upon 
 the tree. Yes, Christian reader, you have not a 
 High Priest who cannot be touched with the feeling 
 of your infirmities, but was, in all points, tempted 
 like as you are, though he was without sin. how 
 pre-eminently fitted is Christ to speak a word to the 
 weary ! 
 
 But in addition to this, Jesus possessed a derived 
 fitness — a fitness communicated to him by his 
 Father. This his words clearly imply. " The Lord 
 God hath given me the tongue of the learned." All 
 the grace and the gifts with which, as man, he was 
 furnished, were the bestowment of the spirit of God, 
 and were given in order to qualify him to speak to 
 the weary. In a distinguished sense, he possessed 
 the tongue of the learned ; or, as the passage might 
 be rendered,* " The Lord Jehovah has given me an 
 eloquent tongue, (literally, one skilled, practised, 
 instructed,) that I might know how to console the 
 weary, or, that I may sustain the weary with a 
 word." Never was there a tongue like Christ's — 
 so learned, so eloquent, and so skilled. "Never 
 
 * Hengstenberg's Christology of the Old Testament. 
 
CHRIST TO THE WEARY. Ill 
 
 man spake like this man." Greece and Rome, in 
 
 their 
 
 " High and palmy state," 
 
 never exhibited such philosophy as he taught, nor 
 such erudition as he displayed, nor such, eloquence 
 as he breathed. Had he so chosen it, he could have 
 placed himself at the head of a school of his own, 
 and, with a beck, might have allured to his feet all 
 the poets and philosophers of his day, proud to own 
 him as their Master. But no ! The wisdom and 
 the eloquence of this world possessed no charm for 
 him. He drew the learning and the melting power 
 with which he spoke from a higher, even a heavenly 
 source. His was divine philosophy ; his was the elo- 
 quence of God ! " The Lord Jehovah hath given 
 me the tongue of the eloquent." 
 
 And to whom did he consecrate this learning, this 
 wisdom and this eloquence ? To the very objects 
 whom the proud philosophers and the doctors of his 
 day despised and neglected — even the weary. What 
 a field was here for the exercise of his skill and for 
 the play of his benevolence ! How fully would he 
 demonstrate that he truly possessed the " tongue of 
 the learned !" If, to interest the feelings of the ex- 
 hausted ; if, to enchain the attention of the weary ; 
 if, to concentrate upon one subject the powers of a 
 mind, jaded and burthened; if, to awaken music 
 from a heart whose chords were broken and un- 
 strung, mark the loftiest reach of eloquence, then, 
 his was eloquence unsurpassed, — for all this he did. 
 The beings whom he sought out and drew around 
 
112 A WORD IN SEASON FROM 
 
 him, were the burthened, the bowed down, the dis- 
 consolate, the poor, the friendless, the helpless, the 
 ignorant, the weary. He loved to lavish upon such 
 the fulness of his benevolent heart, and to exert 
 upon such the skill of his wonder-working power. 
 Earth's weary sons repaired to his out-stretched arms 
 for shelter, and the world's ignorant and despised 
 clustered around his feet, to be taught and blessed. 
 Sinners of every character, and the disconsolate of 
 every grade, attracted by his renown, pressed upon 
 him from every side. " This man receiveth sinners,'' 
 was the name and the character by which he was 
 known. It was new and strange. Uttered by the 
 lip of the proud and disdainful Pharisee, it was an 
 epithet of reproach and an expression of contumely. 
 But upon the ear of the poor and wretched outcast, 
 the sons and daughters of sorrow, ignorance, and 
 woe, it fell sweeter than the music of the spheres. 
 It passed from lip to lip ; it echoed from shore to 
 shore — " This man receiveth sinners 1" It found 
 its way into the abodes of misery and want; it 
 penetrated the dungeon of the prisoner, and the cell 
 of the maniac ; and it kindled an unearthly light 
 in the solitary dwelling of the widow and the 
 orphan, the unpitied and the friendless. Thus 
 received its accomplishment the prophecy that pre- 
 dicted him as the "Plant of renown," whom 
 Jehovah would raise up. Thousands came, faint, 
 and weary, and sad, and sat down beneath his 
 shadow ; and thousands more since then have pressed 
 to their wounded hearts the balsam that flowed from 
 his bleeding bod}-, and have been healed. 
 
CHRIST TO THE WEARY. 113 
 
 Let US turn our attention for a moment, to the 
 subject-matter of our Lord's address to the wear3\ 
 What does he speak to them ? Some would reply, 
 the law. Kay ; but the law of God never sj)ake a 
 w^ord of comfort to the weary. It was not designed 
 for such. Its very nature forbids it. It can anathe- 
 matize, alarm, and wound ; but not a solitary word 
 of consolation and soothing can it address to a soul 
 weary and heavily-laden with sorrow and with guilt. 
 But it is the glorious gospel of the blessed God that 
 the Lord Jesus speaks to his weary ones. It was 
 designed and framed especially for them. Its very 
 nature fits it for such. Every word is an echo of 
 the love of God's heart. Every sentence is fraught 
 with grace, mercy, and truth. The word which 
 Jesus speaks, is just the word the weary want. It 
 unfolds a free pardon, complete acceptance, perfect 
 reconciliation with God, and all-sufiicient grace to 
 perfect this work in holiness. It bids me as a sinner 
 approach just as I am ; my poverty, my vileness, my 
 guilt, my utter destitution, forming no just hinder- 
 ances to my salvation, because his atoning work has 
 made it a righteous thing in God to justify the guilty, 
 and a gracious act in Jesus to save the lost. Yea, 
 he condescends to assure me in that word of a free 
 grace gospel, which he speaks with a tongue so elo- 
 quent, that I honour him in accepting his proffered 
 boon, and that I glorify him by trusting my soul 
 into his Almighty hands. 
 
 There is yet an essential and most important truth 
 here to which he would direct the reader's particular 
 10* 
 
114 A WORD IN SEASON FROM 
 
 attention. "We allude to the rest in Christ to which 
 his word to the weary especially invites. Our blessed 
 Lord is not one that mocks the circumstances of the 
 weary. "When he speaks, it is with all the love of 
 his heart, and when he invites, it is with all the sin- 
 cerity of his soul. Listen, then, to his gracious 
 words, " Come unto me, all ye that labour and are 
 heavily laden, and I will give you rest." 
 
 With what brightness does the truth, appear 
 written with beams of heavenly light — Jesus, the 
 REST OF THE WEARY ! " Come unto me.'' The Father 
 has made his Son the resting-place of his church. 
 He himself has vested His whole glory in Christ. 
 He knew what Christ was capable of sustaining. He 
 knew that as His Fellow — one equal with Himself, 
 He could with safety embark the honour of His 
 government in the hands of His Son. He confided 
 therein Himself! His government, and His church, 
 
 — all in Christ. To this ''tried stone," He would 
 now bring His people. He found it strong enough 
 for Himself, and He knows it to be strong enough 
 for them, and with confidence He invites the weary 
 to come and repose upon it. Jesus but echoes the 
 heart of the Father when he says, " Come unto me 
 
 — I wdll give you rest." I*[ever did the tongue of 
 Jesus utter words more learned, — more eloquent, — 
 more persuasive. Just the word we want. "We seek 
 rest by nature everywhere, and in everything, but 
 in Jesus. "We seek it in the sensual world, we seek 
 it in the moral world, we seek it in the religious 
 world — we find it not. We seek it in conviction. 
 
CHRIST TO THE WEARY. 115 
 
 we seek it in ordinances, we seek it in doiag the 
 works of the law, and still it evades us. ^Ye go 
 from place to place, from mean to mean, from 
 minister to minister, and still the burthen presses, 
 and the guilt remains, and we find no rest. No : 
 and never will we find it, until it is sought and found 
 solely, wholly, exclusively, and entirely in Jesus. 
 Rest for the sin-weary soul is only to be met with 
 in him who bore the curse for man's transgression. 
 Here God rests, and here the sinner must rest. Here 
 the Father rests, and here the child may rest. Jesus 
 is the great burthen-bearer for God and for man. 
 Listen again to the melody of his words : " Come 
 unto me— I will give you rest." See, how he invites 
 you, without one solitary condition. He makes no 
 exception to your guilt and unworthiness. The 
 word is, "Come unto me:" in other words, believe 
 in me. To " come," is simply and only to believe. 
 And oh ! how can we fully set forth the " rest" to be 
 found in Jesus ? Let those testify who took their 
 guilt to his blood, their vileness to his righteousness, 
 their sins to his grace, their burthens to his arm, 
 their sorrows to his heart. Let them tell how, in a 
 moment, their sense of weariness fied, and rest, 
 Bweet, soothing rest to their soul, succeeded. Are 
 ^ouy my reader, a sin-weary soul ? Then, to you is 
 this invitation addressed : " Come unto me — to me, 
 the Saviour, whose willingness is equal to my ability. 
 To me, who never rejected a single soul that sought 
 salvation and heaven at my hands. Come unto me 
 — I will give you rest." 
 
116 A WORD IN SEASON FROM 
 
 In the case of a tried believer, the rest that Jesus 
 gives does not always imply the removal of the bur- 
 den from whence this sense of weariness proceeds. 
 The burthen is permitted to remain, and yet rest is 
 experienced. Yea, it would appear from his pro- 
 cedure, that the very existence of the burthen was 
 essential to the existence of the rest. He withdraws 
 not the trouble from us, nor us from the trouble ; 
 and still the repose we sighed for is given. Won- 
 derful indeed ! But how is it explained ? That bur- 
 then takes us to Jesus. It is but the cause of our 
 simply going to him. But for that sorrow, or that 
 calamity, or that sickness, or that bereavement, we 
 should have stayed away. The pressure compelled 
 us to go. And how does he meet us ? Does he open 
 a way of escape from our difficulty, or does he im- 
 mediately unbind our burthen and set us free? 
 I:Tay ; better than this, he pours strength into our 
 souls, and life into our spirits, and love into our 
 hearts, and so we find rest. Thus are fulfilled in our 
 experience the precious promises, "As thy days, so 
 shall thy strength be." " My grace is sufficient for 
 thee." 
 
 But there is still a deeply interesting truth to be 
 considered. It is the timeing of the Lord's address 
 tothew^eary. It is ever a "word in season." It is 
 spoken just at the moment that it is needed. Herein 
 is no small unfolding of the love of our Lord. ISTor 
 less an evidence of his complex person as God-man. 
 How could he so time his word to the weary as to 
 meet their exigence at its very crisis, did not his 
 
CHRIST TO THE WEARY. 117 
 
 Deity make him cognizant of the critical junctures 
 in which they were placed ! And let it be mentioned, 
 that this operation is going on in every place and at 
 every moment. And how could he meet that exi- 
 gence, and speak a word in season to the weary, but 
 as his humanity was touched with the feeling of the 
 infirmity ? It is by this process of experience that 
 we are brought into close views of the glory of our 
 incarnate God. 
 
 Yes, it is a " word in season." When Jesus speaks 
 to the penitent weeping at his feet, "Thy sins are 
 forgiven thee," who can describe the joy which now 
 fills the heart, and the radiance of hope which now 
 lights up the soul ? It was, perhaps, at the moment 
 of dark despair ; all other refuge failed ; all was 
 given up for lost ; and just as the last billow came 
 rolling on, threatening to engulf the soul in 
 woe, Jesus spake a "word in season," and all 
 was peace. 
 
 And when he speaks through the ministry of the 
 word, or by the word itself, to the believer, wearied 
 with conflict and with trial, it has been just at the 
 moment that its sustaining and consoling power was 
 ^rtl^ needed. The eye that slumbers not nor sleeps 
 was upon you. He knew in what furnace you were 
 placed, and was there to temper the flame when it 
 seemed the severest. He saw your frail bark strug- 
 gling through the tempest, and he came to your 
 rescue at the height of the storm. How has he 
 proved this in seasons of difiiculty and doubt ! How 
 often, at a crisis the most critical of your history, 
 
118 A WORD IN SEASON FROM 
 
 the Lord has appeared for you ! Your want has 
 been supplied, your doubt has been solved, and your 
 perplexity has been guided; he has delivered }- our 
 soul from death, your eyes from tears, and your feet 
 from falling. A word by Jesus, spoken in due sea- 
 son, how good is it ! 
 
 In what an exalted and endearing light does this 
 truth place Christ's sleepless vigilance of his people ! 
 Imagine yourself threading your way along a most 
 difficult and perilous path, every step of which is 
 attended with pain and jeopardy, and is taken with 
 hesitancy and doubt. Unknown to you and unseen, 
 there is One hovering each, moment around you, 
 checking each false step, and guiding each doubtful 
 one ; soothing each sorrow, and supplying each 
 want. All is calm and silent. IsTot a sound is heard, 
 not a movement is seen ; and yet, to your amaze- 
 ment, just at the critical moment, the needed suc- 
 cour comes, — ^you know not from whence, you know 
 not from whom. This is no picture of fancy. Art 
 thou a child of God retracing thy steps back to para- 
 dise by an intricate and perilous way ? Jesus is 
 near to thee at each moment, unseen and often un- 
 known. Thou hast at times stood speechless with 
 awe at the strange interposition on thy behalf, of 
 providence and of grace. 'No visible sign betokened 
 the source of thy help. There was no echo of footfall 
 at thy side, no flitting of shadow athwart thy path. 
 Ko law of nature was altered nor suspended, the sun 
 stood not still, nor did the heavens open ; and yet 
 deliverance, strange and effectual deliverance, came 
 
CHRIST TO THE WEARY. 119 
 
 at a moment most unexpected, yet most needed. 
 It was Jesus thy Redeemer, thy Brother, thy Shep- 
 herd, and thy Guide. He it was who, hovering 
 around thee, unknown and unobserved, kept thee as 
 the apple of his eye, and sheltered thee in the hol- 
 low of his hand. It was he who armed thee wdth 
 intrepidity for the fight, who poured strength into 
 thy spirit, and grace into thy heart, when the full 
 weight of the calamity pressed upon thee. Thus 
 has he always been to his saints. The incident of 
 the disciples in the storm presents a striking instance 
 of this. Behold him standing upon the shore, eye- 
 ing with riveted gaze the little boat as it struggled 
 amidst the sea. They were often invisible to human 
 eye, but not a moment were they lost to his. 'Not 
 even when on the mount alone in prayer, were they 
 forgotten or unobserved. He beheld from thence 
 their peril, he knew their fears, and hastened to 
 their succour. Stepping from the shore he ap- 
 proached them. O how majestic did his form now 
 appear, — walking like a man, and upon the water, 
 like a God ! They knew not that it was Jesus, and 
 were afraid. But their knowledge of him was not 
 necessary to their safety. It was enough that he 
 knew them. And just as the storm was at its 
 height, and their fears rose with their peril, he drew 
 near and said in his own gentle soothing tone, unto 
 them, "It is I, be not afraid." It was a "word 
 spoken in season." 
 
 It is one of the most blessed truths of the 
 covenant of grace, that the God of the covenant is 
 
120 A WORD IN SEASON FROM 
 
 " very present help in every time of trouble.'* 
 Loving His people as He does, dwelling in them by 
 His Spirit, their persons and circumstances continu- 
 ally before Him in the person and the intercession 
 of His dear Son, how can He possibly lose sight of 
 them for a single moment ? They may, and they 
 often do, lose sight of Him. They do not, alas ! 
 set the Lord alwa3"s before their face. They train 
 and discipline not themselves to see Him in every 
 event, circumstance, and incident of life. They are 
 not clear-sighted to recognise nor prompt to acknow- 
 ledge Him in every providence that darkens or 
 lightens upon their way. Were they but right- 
 minded, they would exclaim of every good and of every 
 evil as it came, " The Lord is in this !" But they 
 are never for an instant out of Ids heart, out of his 
 thoughts, out of Ms hands, or out oiliis eye. How near 
 to them, too, is the Holy Spirit ! Dwelling in, and 
 over-shadowing them, he is at their side to guide, 
 to uphold, and to cheer ; bringing to their memory 
 a precious promise, or writing upon their heart an 
 animating truth, or opening before their eye some 
 endearing glimpse of Jesus, just the moment it was 
 needed. What a happy, what a favoured people 
 are the Lord's ! " Happy is he that hath the God 
 of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the Lord 
 his God. Happy is that people that is in such a 
 case." But let us trace some of the practical 
 conclusions to which this interesting subject brings 
 as. 
 The Lord Jesus speaks at the present time to the 
 
CHRIST TO THE WEARY 121 
 
 weary. We need constant] j to bear in mind the 
 immutability of our Lord; that "Jesus Christ is 
 the same yesterday, and to day, and for ever." 
 That all that he ever has been — and oh ! what has 
 he not been ? — he is at this moment. What 
 countless numbers are now bathing their souls in 
 the bliss of heaven, whose tears were once dried, 
 whose fears were once quelled, whose burthen was 
 once removed by those precious words spoken in 
 season — "Come unto me, all ye that labour and 
 are heavily laden, and I will give you rest ! " O 
 could they, bending now from their thrones, but 
 speak to us, they would testify what substance, 
 what reality, what sweetness, what power, and what 
 charms the}^ once found in them I And they would 
 bid every weary spirit, every weeping penitent, 
 every tried saint believe, and press the promise to 
 their heart. But a dearer, a lovelier, and a better 
 than they, bids thee receive it. Jesus himself 
 speaks to thee : " Come unto Me — and I will give 
 you rest." All that he was in their happy experi- 
 ence, he will be in yours. The grace that made 
 them what they once were, and what they now are, 
 is sufficient for you. Go, and lay your weariness 
 on Christ. Ask not, "Will he bear my burthen?" 
 He bears every burthen brought to him. ISTot one 
 poor, weary, heavy-laden sinner does he turn away. 
 Thou art, perhaps, a mourning penitent — he will 
 receive thee. Thou art, perhaps, a vile outcast 
 — he will welcome thee. lie says he will, and 
 11 
 
122 . A WORD IN SEASON FROM 
 
 he cannot deny himself. It is impossible that he 
 should lie. 
 
 The Lord Jesus gives Jiis people the tougue of the 
 learned, that they may sometimes speak a word in 
 season to his weary ones. Have you not a word 
 for Christ ? May you not go to that tried believer 
 in sickness, in poverty, in adversity, or in prison, 
 and tell of the balm that has often healed thy 
 spirit, and of the cordial that has often cheered thy 
 heart? "A word duly spoken, how good is it!" 
 A text quoted, a sentiment repeated, an observation 
 made, a hint dropped, kind caution suggested, a 
 gentle rebuke given, a tender admonition left — oh ! 
 the blessing that has flowed from it ! It was a word 
 spoken in season ! Say not with Moses, " I am 
 slow of speech, and of a slow tongue ;" or, with 
 Jeremiah, " Ah, Lord God ! behold I cannot speak, 
 for I am a child." Hear the answer of the Lord : 
 '' Who hath made man's mouth ? have not I the 
 Lord ? IsTow therefore go, and I will be with thy 
 mouth, and teach thee what thou shalt say." And 
 oh, how frequently and efi:ectually does the Lord 
 speak to his weary ones, even through the weary ! 
 All, perhaps, was conflict within, and darkness 
 without ; but one word falling from the lips of a 
 man of God, has been the voice of God to the soul. 
 And what an honour conferred, thus to be the 
 channel of conveying consolation from the loving 
 heart of the Father to the disconsolate heart of the 
 child ! To go and smooth a rufiled pillow, and 
 lift the pressure from oflT a burthcned spirit, and light 
 
CHRIST TO THE WEARY. 123 
 
 np the gloomy chamber of sorrow, of sickness, and 
 of death, as with the first dawnings of tlie coming 
 glory. Go, Christian reader, and ask the Lord so 
 to clothe your tongue with holy, heavenly eloquence, 
 that you may '■'■know hoiu to speak a word in season 
 to him that is weary." 
 
 In contending for the faith, remember that the 
 Lord Jesus can give you the tongue of the learned. 
 Listen to his promise — "I will give you a mouth 
 and wisdom, which all your adversaries shall not be 
 able to gainsay nor resist." Thus the most un- 
 learned, and the most weak, may be so deeply 
 taught, and be so skilfully armed in Christ's school, 
 as to be able valiantly to defend, and successfully to 
 preach the truth, putting to " silence the ignorance 
 of foolish men." 
 
 It is a matter of much practical importance, that 
 you take heed not to anticipate or to forestall the 
 promised grace. For every possible circumstance 
 in which you may be placed, the fulness of Christ, 
 and the supplies of the covenant are provided. 
 That provision is only meted out as the occasions for 
 whose history it was provided occur. Beware of 
 creating trouble by ante-dating it. Seen through 
 the mist, the advancing object may appear gigantic 
 in size, and terrific in appearance. And yet the 
 trouble you so much dread may never come ; or, 
 coming, it will assuredly bring with it the " word 
 spoken in season." In the case of every child of 
 God, calamity never comes alone; it invariably 
 brings Jesus with it. 
 
124 A WORD IN SEASON FllOM 
 
 There is a period approaching — the last and 
 c'reat crisis of human life — when we shall more than 
 ever need the " tongue of the learned." It will he 
 of all seasons most trying and solemn, the season 
 that separates the soul from the body. To that each 
 must come. The hand that holds this pen, and the 
 eye that reads the lines which it traces, will relax, 
 and grow dim in death, and the writer and the 
 reader will meet together to read another hook in 
 the light of the great white throne — the hook of 
 life ! Oh blessed indeed to find our names 
 recorded there ! But if Jesus is our salvation, 
 why shrink from that hour ? lie will be there to 
 speak a word in season to thy weary soul amid 
 the swellings of Jordan — loving and faithful to 
 the last. 
 
 Be not surprised at any w^ay which the Lord may 
 take to bring your weary soul to rest in himself. It 
 is not always in the crowd that he speaks comfort- 
 ingly to the heart. More frequently he leads his 
 people out, and takes them apart by himself alone. 
 It is often in the privacy of separation and retire- 
 ment, when the soul is curtained within his pavilion, 
 that the greatest and the sw^eetest nearness to Jesus 
 is experienced. " Behold, I will allure her into the 
 wilderness, and speak comfortably to her" — (marg. 
 speak friendly to her heart.) Has the Lord been 
 leading you about — severing this tie, and breaking 
 up that repose ; disappointing you here, and thwart- 
 ing you there ? Amazed, you have asked, " Lord, 
 why this ?" And the only reply has been the com- 
 
CHRIST TO THE WEARY. 125 
 
 fort which he has spoken to thy wear}^, desolate 
 heart. Thus does he make good in your experience 
 his own exceedingly great and precious promise — 
 " I will satiate the weary soul, and will replenish 
 every sorrowful soul." 
 
 " Is it for this ray weary feet 
 So long the -wilderness have trod. 
 Through winter's cold, and summer's heat, 
 Thus to be comforted by God ? 
 
 *' Is it for this he brought the night, 
 And quenched awhile each tiny ray ; 
 That lie himself might be my light, 
 And turn the darkness into day? 
 
 ** Is it for this the waves arose, 
 And tempests raged, and would not cease, 
 That Christ himself might interpose, 
 And shed around a perfect peace ? 
 
 " Is it for this he chastened sore, 
 And let my soul in prison be ; 
 That he might show an open door. 
 And say in tender love — Be * free ! ' 
 
 " Is it for this he laid me low, 
 And filled my heart with strange alarms ; 
 That I might let all others go, 
 And sweetly rest upon his arms ? 
 
 " Oh yes! my feeble faith descries 
 Bright light between each parting cloud ; 
 And soon my soul, with glad surprise, 
 Shall mount and sing her song aloud/^ 
 
 11* 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 THE AXE LAID AT THE KOOT. 
 
 " And now also the axe is laid unto the root of the trees : therefore every 
 tree ■which bringeth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into 
 the fire." — Matt. iii. 10. 
 
 It is a solemn and a veritable thought, that hu- 
 man character is training and moulding for eternity. 
 Nothing in the universe of matter or of mind is 
 stationary. Everything is in motion ; the motion 
 is progressive — the movement is onward. Things 
 whose being is limited by the present state, obeying 
 the law of their nature, advance to their maturity, 
 and then perish. They attain their appointed and 
 ultimate perfection, and then die. Beings destined 
 for another, a higher, and a more enduring state, 
 are each moment tending towards that existence for 
 which their natures are formed, and to which they 
 aspire. There is, innate in man, a principle which 
 incessantly yearns for, and reaches after, a state of 
 perfection and deathlessness. He would fain, at 
 times, quench in eternal night the spark of immor- 
 tality which glows in his breast. A morbid distaste 
 of life, or a pusillanimous shrinking from its evils, 
 or the anticipation of some impending calamity — 
 in most cases springing from a mind diseased, and 
 
 (126) 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 127 
 
 destroying the power of self-control — have tended 
 to inspire and to strengthen this desire. But eternal 
 sleep is beyond his reach. He sighs for it, but it 
 heeds not his moan ; he invites it, but it comes not 
 at his bidding ; he inscribes the sentiment over the 
 charuel house of the dead, but it changes not their 
 state — he may slay the mortal^ but he cannot touch 
 the immortal. The compass of his soul points on to 
 life. The long, bleak coast of eternity, its shores 
 washed by the rough billows of time, stretches out 
 before him ; and towards it, his bark each instant 
 tends, and to it it will assuredly arrive. Such is the 
 chain that links man to the invisible world ! So in- 
 teresting and important a being is he. An eternity 
 of happiness or of misery is before him — from it he 
 cannot escape — and for the one or the other, mind 
 is educating, and character is forming. 
 
 A truth kindred in its solemnity to this, is the near- 
 ness of judgment to every unconverted individual. 
 To his eye — its vision dimmed by other and diverse 
 objects — it may appear far remote. Damnation 
 may seem to linger, judgment to tarry. Sentence 
 executed against an evil work may appear delayed. 
 But this is an illusion of the mental eye, a deception 
 of Satan, a lie which the treacherous and depraved 
 heart is eager to believe. JSTever was a snare of the 
 devil more successful than this. But death, judg- 
 ment, and hell are in the closest proximity to man ; 
 nearer than he has any conception of. His path 
 winds along the very precipice that overhangs the 
 billows of quenchless flame. Let him assume what 
 
128 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 
 
 position "he may, high or low, fortified or iingnardecl, 
 from that position there is but one stei) between him 
 and death, between death and judgment, between 
 judgment and a fixed and a changeless destiny. 
 As one has truly remarked, what a creature of time 
 is eternity ! Time is, in some respects, more solemn 
 and important than eternity. The present decides 
 the future. The future is all that the present makes 
 it. It is " troubled or serene, inviting or revolting, 
 happy or miserable, a blessing or a curse, as time, 
 omnipotent time, ordains it." And this is the senti- 
 ment of the text which suggests our subject. 
 " And now also the axe is laid unto the root of the 
 trees : therefore every tree which bringeth not forth 
 good fruit is hewn down, and cast into the fire." 
 There is much truth in these words, that is deeply 
 and solemnly instructive. They describe the cha- 
 racter of an unconverted state, v/arn us of its danger, 
 and predict its doom. May the Spirit who speaks 
 in the word, be the Spirit who illumines us, while 
 that word is now laid open to our view ! 
 
 What a true description have we here of the cha- 
 racter of a carnal, unregenerate soul — " Every tree 
 which bringeth not forth good fruit." I^o pencil 
 could more accurately delineate the condition of 
 such a one. There cannot be, by any possibility 
 w^hatever, the slightest misconception here. This 
 is not descriptive of a renewed state. The expres- 
 sive metaphor cannot, by the most forced construc- 
 tion, be made to apply to a state of grace. A living 
 member of the true Vine is a fruit-bearing tree. 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 129 
 
 The degree of his fruitfulness is another question. 
 It is with the reality of the vital principle within 
 him that he has first and mainly to do. The ques- 
 tion that takes precedence of all others is, his seve- 
 rance from the ' wild olive tree' of a carnal, lifeless 
 nature, and his grafting into Christ the true Vine. 
 Can any metaphor, drawn from the world of ima- 
 gery, more strongly and truly set forth an uncon- 
 verted state than this ? It is a tree that bears no 
 GOOD fruit. It is a soul utterly destitute of every- 
 thing that is really good, holy, and spiritual. It 
 makes no allusion to the verdant leaves of a mere 
 Christian profession, or to the blossoms of good 
 resolutions and external reformations, which often 
 appear in life. These may be many and fair to look 
 upon. But it speaks of more than the leaf, and the 
 promising blossom ; it speaks of fruit, and of good 
 fruit, and of good fruit only. The "tree which 
 bringeth not forth good fruit." It will now be 
 proper for us to inquire into the nature and the pro- 
 perties of the "good fruit" which is found in a state 
 of grace, the absence of which decides a state of 
 nature. 
 
 Shall we begin with Prayer? Who will not 
 pronounce this a fruit of the Spirit, and in its nature 
 and influence, truly good ? When Saul of Tarsus 
 was smitten to the ground by the divine light which 
 shone around him, — all his pride and rebellion in a 
 moment prostrated, — the first accents heard from 
 him in heaven, and announced on earth, were ac- 
 cents of prayer. There came a voice from the ex- 
 
130 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 
 
 cellent gloiy, exclaiming, " Behold, he prayethJ" 
 Here was the first throbbing of life in the new-born 
 soul. Here was spiritual breath, pouring out itself 
 into the bosom of Him from whom it came. It was 
 more than the sprouting leaf, more than the opening 
 bud, more than the full-blown blossom ; it was pre- 
 cious fruity brought forth in the heart by God the 
 Eternal Spirit. Are you a praying soul ? Has the 
 prayer ever burst from your lips, " God be merciful 
 to me a sinner?" I ask not if you are theoretically, 
 or notionally acquainted with prayer. You may 
 be accustomed to the formal habit of prayer, and 
 yet never pray. You may eagerly purchase, and 
 diligently use every form of devotion which the 
 piety or the skill of others has compiled, and yet 
 the gladdening intelligence may uev^er have passed 
 from lip to lip in heaven — ^'Behold, he prayeth!'' 
 If this be true of you, you are that tree that bringeth 
 not forth the good fruit of 'prayer. For years, 
 perhaps it has been so. You have lived thus far a 
 prayerless life. What ! no hallowed intercourse with 
 Heaven ! l^o sweet fellowship with the Father ! 
 Ko yielding to the attraction of the throne of His 
 grace ! What ! an utter stranger to all this ? Then, 
 your life has been unsanctiSed by praj^er — your 
 family unblest by prayer — your business pursued 
 without prayer. The dew of mercy has fallen, and 
 the sun of prosperity has shone upon you ; means 
 of grace, and a thousand influences, have conspired 
 to make you a man of prayer ; and yet again and 
 again has the Lord of the vineyard come seeking in 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 131 
 
 you this good fruit, and found none. Then, what 
 scriptural, reasonable, valid claim to the character 
 of a child of God can you possibly have, wanting 
 this, the first and the latest evidence of spiritual life ? 
 In the House which Christ is rearing, and of which 
 he is the foundation, all the stones are living stones. 
 "Ye also as lively stones, (or living stones,) are built 
 up a spiritual house." There are no dead materials 
 here. In the scaffolding, and among the rubbish — 
 things not forming essential parts of the building 
 itself — we expect to find no life. Yea, solemn 
 thought ! among the builders themselves there may 
 be, there often are, those having no sympathy with 
 the nature and character and ultimate design of the 
 structure whose walls they are helping to uprear. 
 But in every stone, placed and cemented in that 
 building, and forming an essential part, there is life, 
 — divine, spiritual, resurrection, deathless life, flow- 
 ing from union to Christ, who has ever been, and 
 ever will be, the " tried stone, the precious corner- 
 stone, the sure foundation" of his church. Then, 
 be not deceived ; the scaffolding will be taken down, 
 and the rubbish will be removed, and the workmen 
 will be dispersed, and this beautiful and stupendous 
 structure will present to the eye the spectacle of a 
 '^glorious church, not having a spot, or a wrinkle, or 
 any such thing," partaking of the life, and radiant 
 with the glory, of the Lord through eternity. Then, 
 all those who had a Christian "name to live while 
 they were dead," who were employed about this 
 spiritual house, but formed no part of the house 
 
132 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 
 
 itself, will have their portion in the " second death.'* 
 Speaking of the results of the Christian ministry, 
 the Apostle employs this solemn language, "Every 
 man's work shall be made manifest; for the day 
 shall declare it, because it shall be revealed by fire ; 
 and the fire shall try every man's work of what sort 
 it is." These are searching, thrilling facts, relating 
 both to minister and to people. 
 
 But oh ! what a precious fruit of the renewed 
 heart is true prayer ! If there is a single exercise of 
 the soul that places the fact of its regeneracy beyond 
 a doubt, it is this. Prayer, that comes as holy fire 
 from God, and that rises as holy incense to God — 
 prayer, that takes me, with every want and infirmity, 
 with every sin and sorrow, to the bosom of the 
 Father, through the smitten bosom of the Son — 
 prayer, that sweetens my solitude, that calms my 
 perturbed spirit, that weakens the power of sin, 
 that nourishes the desire for holiness, and that trans- 
 ports the soul, by anticipation, beyond the region of 
 winds, and storms, and tempests, into the calmer 
 presence of God, where all is sunshine and peace — 
 O what a wondrous privilege is this ! That there is 
 much of awful mystery yet to be unravelled in rela- 
 tion to this holy exercise of the soul, we readily 
 admit. How prayer operates upon God we know not. 
 That it can efibct any alteration in His purpose, or 
 change His will, or afford Him information, no one 
 for a moment supposes. And yet, that it should be 
 an ordained medium by which finite weakness seems 
 to overcome Infinite strength, and a human will 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 133 
 
 seems to turn the Divine will, and man's shallow 
 mind seems to pour knowledge into the fathomless 
 mind of God — that it should arrest a threatened 
 judgment, or remove an existing evil, or supply a 
 present wantT— is a marvel in which, like all others 
 of Divine revelation, I submit my reason to my faith, 
 receiving and adoring what my reason cannot, un- 
 less I were God, perfectly comprehend. The only 
 solution which ,we have of this mystery of prayer, 
 is contained in these words : " lie that searcheth the 
 hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit, 
 because he maketh intercession for the saints accord- 
 ing to the will of God. The Holy Spirit thus indi- 
 ting just that petition which is in harmony with the 
 purpose, will, and love of Him who is emphatically 
 the Hearer and the Answerer of prayer. What a 
 volume might be composed on the subject of prayer, 
 and yet the half would not be told ! A compilation 
 of its acMeveiyients would of itself be the work of 
 the longest life. Blessed are they who can enter into 
 the spirit of these words, — "I give myself unto 
 prayer." "It is good for me to draw nigh unto 
 God." " Pray without ceasing." "Praying with 
 prayer." " If we ask anything according to his will, 
 he heareth us; and if we know that he heareth us, 
 whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the peti- 
 tions that we desired of him." Have you, reader, 
 this fruit ? Then, restrain not prayer before God ! 
 
 " Prayer is a creature's strength, his very breath and being ; 
 Prayer is the golden key that can open the wicket of Mercy; 
 12 
 
134 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 
 
 Prayer is the slender nerve that moveth the muscles of 
 Omnipotence : 
 
 Wherefore, pray, creature, for many and great are thy 
 wants ; 
 
 Thy mind, thy conscience, and thy being, thy rights commend 
 thee unto prayer, 
 
 The cure of all cares, the grand panacea for all pains, 
 
 Doubt's destroyer, ruin's remedy, the antidote to all anx- 
 ieties," * 
 
 Godly sorrow must be quoted as another fruit, 
 good and precious, of the renewed heart. This, also, 
 is the product of the Holy Spirit, indicating the 
 life of God in the soul of man. l^o single exercise 
 of mind is presented in the word as holding so es- 
 sential and important a place in a work of grace as 
 this : it is absolutely indispensable as an element of 
 conversion. There cannot be the subsequent stages 
 of faith in Jesus, of righteousness, joy, and peace in 
 the Holy Ghost, without the previous sense and sor- 
 row of sin. "We need, on this interesting subject, 
 no other teaching than what is contained in these 
 words : " Thus saith the high and lofty One that in- 
 habiteth eternity, w^hose name is Holy : I dwell in 
 the high and holy place, with him also that is of a 
 contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the 
 humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite 
 ones." Isa. Ivii. 15. Again — "For all these things 
 hath my hand made, and all these things have been, 
 saith the Lord ; but to this man will I look, even to 
 him that is of a poor and contrite spirit, and trem- 
 
 * Tapper's Proverbial Philosophy. 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 135 
 
 bleth at my word." Isa. Ixvi. 2. Can any truth be 
 more strongly and aflectingly stated? This, too, 
 was the doctrine which our Lord preached: "I say 
 unto you, that except ye repent, ye shall all likewise 
 perish." And so did his Apostles, when they de- 
 clared, " God now commandeth all men everywhere 
 to repent.'' ITo command, no duty can be more dis- 
 tinctly, intelligently, and solemnly defined and 
 urged than this. But the inquirer will ask, " "What 
 is repentance?" The reply is, — it is that secret 
 grace that lays the soul low before God, — self- 
 loathed ; sin, abhorred, confessed, and forsaken. It 
 is the abasement and humiliation of a man because 
 of the sinfulness of his nature, and the sins of his 
 life, before the holy, heart-searching Lord God. The 
 more matured believer is wont to look upon a bro- 
 ken and contrite spirit fl.owing from a sight of the 
 cross, as the most precious fruit found in his soul. 
 No moments to him are so hallowed, so solemn, or 
 so sweet, as those spent in bathing the Saviour's 
 feet with tears. There is indeed a bitterness in the 
 grief which a sense of sin produces ; and this, of all 
 other bitternesses, is the greatest. He knows from 
 experience, that it is an " evil thing and bitter, that 
 he has forsaken the Lord his God." ^Nevertheless, 
 there is a sweetness, an indescribable sweetness, which 
 must be experienced to be understood — blended 
 with the bitterness of a heart broken for sin, from a 
 sight of the cross of the incarnate God. precious 
 tears wept beneath that cross ! 
 But how shall I portray the man that is of a 
 
136 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 
 
 humble and a contrite spirit? He is one who 
 truly knows the evil of sin, for he has felt it. He 
 apprehends, in some degree, the holiness of God's 
 character, and the spirituality of his law, for he has 
 seen it. His views of himself have undergone a 
 radical change. He no longer judges himself as 
 others judge him. They exalt him: he ahaseth 
 himself. They approve; he condemns. And in 
 that very thing for which they most extol him, he 
 is humbling himself in secret. "While others are 
 applauding actions, he is searching into motives ; 
 while they are extolling virtues, he is sifting 
 principles ; while they are weaving the garland for 
 his brow, he, shut in alone with God, is covering 
 himself with sackcloth and with ashes. O precious 
 fruit of a living branch of the true Vine ! Is it any 
 wonder, then, that God should come and dwell 
 with such a one, in whom is found something so 
 good towards Him ? no ! He delights to see us 
 in this posture — to mark a soul walking before 
 Him in a conscious sense of its poverty, the eye 
 drawing from the cross its most persuasive motives 
 to a deep prostration of soul at His feet. Dear 
 reader, to know what a sense of God's reconciling 
 love is — to know how skilfully, tenderly, and effec- 
 tually, Jesus binds up and heals, thy spirit must be 
 wounded, and thy heart must be broken for sin. 
 O it were worth an ocean of tears to experience the 
 loving gentleness of Christ's hand in drying them. 
 Has God ever said of you, as he said of Ahab, 
 "See how he humbleth himself before me?" 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 137 
 
 Search and ascertain if this good fruit is found in 
 your soul. 
 
 And what shall be said of Faith ? Truly is it 
 the crowning grace of all, and a most costly and 
 precious fruit of the renewed mind. From it 
 springs every other grace of a gracious soul. It 
 has been designated the Queen grace, because a 
 royal train ever attends it. Faith comes not alone, 
 nor dwells alone, nor works alone. "Where faith in 
 Jesus is, there also are love, and joy, and peace, and 
 long-suffering, and patience, and godly sorrow, and 
 every kindred perfection of the Christian character, 
 all blending in the sweetest harmony, all uniting to 
 celebrate the glory of God's grace, and to crown 
 Jesus Lord of all. Is it, then, surprising that this 
 should be distinguished from all the others by the 
 term ''precious faith?" l^o ! that must needs be 
 precious which unfolds the preciousness of every 
 thing else. It makes the real gold more precious, 
 and it transmutes every thing else into gold. It looks 
 to a "precious Christ." 1 Peter ii. 7. "It leads to 
 his precious blood." 1 Peter i. 19. It relies 
 unqualifiedly on the " precious promises." 2 Peter 
 i. 4. And its very trial, though it be by fire, is 
 "precious." 1 Peter, i. 7. It so changes the nature 
 of the painful, the humiliating, and the afflictive, as 
 to turn the Father's frown, rebuke, and correction, 
 into some of the costliest mercies of life. Precious 
 grace that bids me look upon God in Christ as 
 reconciled; and which, in the absence of all 
 evidence of sight, invites me to rest upon the 
 12 * 
 
138 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 
 
 veracity of God ! — which takes me in my deepest 
 poverty to Jesus, my true Joseph, having in his 
 hands, and at his disposal, all the treasures of 
 grace and glory ? These are some of the charac- 
 teristics of this royal grace. "Being justified by 
 faith, we have peace with God through our Lord 
 Jesus Christ." By faith I can not only say that 
 Jesus died for sinners, but that he died for me. 
 Faith makes the great atonement mine. Faith 
 appropriates to itself all that is in Christ. It lays 
 its hand upon the covenant of grace, and exclaims, 
 "All things are mine." Oh ! to see one bowed to 
 the dust under a sense of sin, yet by faith travelling 
 to the blood and righteousness of the Lord Jesus 
 for salvation, and finding it too — to mark the 
 power of this grace in sustaining the soul in deep 
 waters, holding it up in perilous paths — is a spectacle 
 on which God Himself must look down wdth 
 ineffable delight, 
 
 The application of this truth, reader, must be to 
 your conscience — " Dost thou believe in the Son of 
 God?" Have you " like precious faith" with that 
 which we have attempted to describe? Alas! it 
 may be that you are that tree which bringeth not 
 forth this good fruit. Yours may be a species of fruit 
 somewhat resembling it ; but be not deceived in a 
 matter so momentous as this. " Thou believest 
 there is one God : thou doest w^ell, the devils also 
 believe, and tremble." That is, you assent to the 
 first proposition of true religion — the being of God ; 
 this is w^ell, because your judgment assents to that 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 139 
 
 which is true. And still you have not gone beyond 
 the faith of demons ! They believe, and yet horror 
 inconceivable is but the effect of the forced assent 
 of their minds to the truth ■ — they "tremble." O 
 look well to your faith ! There must be in true 
 faith, not only an assent, but also a consent. In 
 believing to the saving of the soul, we not only 
 assent to the truth of the word, but we also consent 
 to take Christ as he is there set forth — the sinner's 
 reconciliation with God. A mere intellectual 
 illumination, or a historical belief of the facts of 
 the Bible, will never place the soul beyond the 
 reach of hell, nor within the region of heaven. 
 There is a " form of knowledge, " as well as a 
 "form of godliness ;" and both existing apart from 
 vital religion in the soul, constitute a "vain 
 religion." Again we press upon you the important 
 inquiry. Have you the "faith of God's elect ?" Is 
 it the " faith that has stained the glory of merit, 
 and laid the pride of intellect in the dust ? Is it 
 rooted in Christ ? Has it transformed you, in some 
 degree, into the opposite of what 3'ou once were ? 
 Are any of the " precious fruits" of the Spirit put 
 forth in your life ? Is Jesus precious to your soul ? 
 And to walk in all circumstances humbly with God, 
 is it the earnest desire of your heart ? If there is 
 no sorrow for sin, no going out of yourself to 
 Jesus, no fruits of holiness, in some degree, appear- 
 ing, then is yours but a '-'dead faith." James ii. 
 17. Deadj because it is a part and parcel of a 
 nature " dead in trespasses and in sins, — dead 
 
140 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 
 
 because it is not the fruit of the quickening Spirit, 
 — dead^ because it is inoperative, even as the hfe- 
 less root transmits no vitality and moisture to the 
 tree, — dead, because it never can bring you to 
 eternal hfe. Of what value, then, is it ? Cut it 
 down ! why cumbereth it the ground ! If, then, 
 you have never brought forth the good fruit of 
 grayer, and repentance, and faith, you are yet in 
 the old nature of sin, of rebellion, and of death. 
 
 We are now conducted to a truly solemn branch 
 of the subject under discussion : viz. — the imminent 
 danger to which an uncoriverted state is exposed. 
 "And now also behold the axe is laid unto the 
 root of the tree : therefore every tree which bring- 
 eth not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast 
 into the fire." Here is an unequivocal declaration 
 of the over-hanging judgment of Christless souls. 
 Their " damnation slumbereth not." It is " ready 
 to be revealed." It is not that such a state is 
 advancing to a judgment, so much as its closest 
 proximity to that judgment, that constitutes the 
 most solemn feature. Were you to repair to an 
 adjacent plantation, and observe the woodman's 
 axe lying by the side of some lifeless oak, you 
 would naturally conclude — " here is the preparation 
 for removal ; its doom is fixed ; the axe is laid at 
 its root;" and you would naturally expect soon to 
 see it level with the earth. Thou art that dead "tree 
 that bringeth not forth good fruit !" At the root 
 of your dead faith, and lifeless profession, and 
 impenitent, prayerless, godless, Christless life, the 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 141 
 
 axe of divine judgment is lying, ready to fell you 
 to the ground. There it lies, waiting but the 
 lifted hand of Justice, at the command of the long- 
 suffering, but sin-avenging God — " Cut it down 1" 
 " Their judgment now of a long time lingereth 
 not." For a long time that judgment has been in 
 abeyance — O how long ! — but now it " lingereth 
 not." Behold ''■now also the axe is laid." And 
 laid where ? Not at the withered, fruitless tranches 
 merely : these, indeed, the Lord often severs. He 
 removes gospel privileges, or withdraws great 
 mercies, or cuts off peculiar and choice blessings ; 
 sickness, bereavement, reverses, enter the domestic 
 circle, once bright and happy, throwing the pall of 
 vacancy, of gloom, and of desolateness over all. 
 In this way the Lord sometimes lays the axe at 
 the pleasant branches of creature blessing and 
 comfort, and they fall before our eye, leaving the 
 heart bleeding, and brooding in gloomy loneliness 
 over its loss. 
 
 But the most alarming view of this truth is its 
 personal relation to ourselves. The axe of God's 
 judgment is lying at the root. In the due considera- 
 tion of this fact, we lose sight of others, and con- 
 centrate all our thought and anxiety upon ourselves. 
 It becomes now a truth of increased magnitude and 
 solemnity ; because no longer thinking of the 
 branches which God has removed, or may yet remove 
 from us, we are appalled by the irresistible conviction 
 — "J must die ! the axe is lying at the root.'' Ah ! 
 this is the most calamitous of all divine judgments. 
 
142 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 
 
 This is the climax of horrors ! This is the filling 
 to the brim of the cup of woe. The loss of wife, 
 or children, or property, or health, has often resulted 
 in untold blessings to the loser. It has led him to 
 seek and to find all that he had lost, and infinitely 
 more, in Christ. The Eternal Spirit has made it the 
 means and the occasion of his conversion to God. 
 And thus while he has mourned in bitterness the 
 severance of the pleasant branches, he has rejoiced 
 with a joy unspeakable, in the mercy that has spared, 
 and in the grace that has quickened, the root. And 
 is it so, that the beloved of our hearts must die 
 before we can live? Must bough after bough of 
 fragrant blossom, and of pleasant fruit, be severed, 
 ere we are led to give to God our hearts and to 
 Christ our service ? Must the idol be crumbled, 
 and its shrine be broken down, ere the Holy Spirit 
 enters to re-create, renew, and occupy us for himself? 
 Yes, mourning reader, it is often so ! 
 
 *' For us they languish, and for us they die.'' 
 
 O happy for thee, if now the vacant niche in thy 
 heart is filled by him who indeed "died for us, that 
 we might live through him." Yes, judgment is 
 suspended over the fruitless tree. The axe is lying 
 at the root. And when a man loses himself, it is 
 the direst loss of all. " What shall it profit a man if 
 he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ?" And 
 what matter if a man lose all that the world esteems 
 good, if yet he himself is found in Christ ! He may 
 loose all, and yet save himself. Ah! better that 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 143 
 
 every branch, and leaf, and blossom should die, than 
 that the root should be for ever destroyed. 
 
 HhQ periods at v/hicli the state of human probation 
 ceases, are various. We often behold the young fall 
 suddenly before the axe of death. The spectacle is 
 peculiarly affecting ; awfully so, if there is no hope ! 
 Picture it to your mind. The sun had scarcely risen 
 ere it set. It went down whilst it was yet day. The 
 morning of life had just dawned, gilding the horizon 
 with the golden hues of promise, when lo ! the night 
 of the grave drew rapidly on, and quenched all in 
 darkness ! There were health and beauty, vivacity 
 and vigour. Hope predicted, and the world 
 promised, much. A thousand avenues proffered to 
 guide the youthful traveller to the elysium of happi- 
 ness. The morning rejoiced over his head, and 
 everything around him wore a smiling appearance. 
 He traversed the new-born world, now bursting into 
 beauty upon his view, cropping the unblown flower, 
 and drinking the untasted spring. With spirits 
 buoyant as the morning air, health blooming on his 
 cheek, genius sparkling in his eye, visions of bliss 
 floating before his imagination, he set out upon the 
 journey of life. But the axe is at the root ! It rises 
 — it strikes — and in a moment the "strong staff is 
 broken, and the beautiful rod !"_ Fearful, if on that 
 tree " no good fruit" were found ! Happy, if early 
 ripe for heaven ! 
 
 Such a one I knew. N'ature had cast him in her 
 finest mould. Possessed of a form of exquisite 
 symmetry, a countenance pencilled with lines of per- 
 
144 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT, 
 
 feet beauty and mirroring the greatness of his soul, 
 art in her noblest chisellings never embodied the 
 idea of a mere perfect man. Learning enriched his 
 mind; travel added to his rich stores of thought 
 and information, and heightened the polish and the 
 grace of his address ; a poetic genius, perfectly 
 classic, imparted an indescribable tenderness and 
 delicacy to his sentiments ; while religion, heaven- 
 born religion, threw its sanctity and its charm over 
 all. On his return from mingling amidst the classic 
 scenes of Homer and of Virgil, and the yet more 
 thrilling and hallowed scenes of Christ and of his 
 apostles, he was invested with the holy office of the 
 Christian ministry. In its sacred duties he was per- 
 mitted for a while to engage ; admiring multitudes 
 hanging on the lips that spake so mellifluently of 
 Christ and of his cross. But fell disease was insid- 
 iously feeding at the root of this beautiful cedar of 
 Lebanon ; and when life was the sweetest and the 
 brightest, and hope spake most flatteringly to his 
 ear; and when, from the precious stores of thought 
 and sentiment, his fascinating voice flung their trea- 
 sures the most lavishingly around him, at that 
 moment he sickened, and drooped, and died ! The 
 skilful hand of affection has reared a splendid monu- 
 ment to his memory, the materials of which his own 
 richly furnished mind had supplied.* But his true 
 and imperishable record is on high. 
 
 But why recall the memory of the young and the 
 
 * Griffin's Remains. New York. 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 145 
 
 beautiful who have passed away ? To give, if possi- 
 ble, increased force and solemnity to the exhortation 
 which the Holy Spirit addresses to the young, 
 "Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy 
 youth.'' Remember Ilim who created you, and who 
 created you for his glory, — who fashioned your form, 
 and who endowed your mind, and who placed you 
 in your present position in life, be it of rank and 
 influence, or of lowliness and obscurity. Remember 
 him as a holy, sin-hating God, and that you stand 
 to Him in the relation of a fallen creature, impure 
 and unrighteous, impotent and hostile, unworthy to 
 live, unfit to die. Remember what He must have 
 done, and what He must do for you if ever that 
 relation is changed, and you become a new creature, 
 an adopted child, an heir of glory. Remember the 
 strong and inalienable claims which He has upon 
 you — claims which He will never relax nor revoke. 
 He who commanded the first of the ripe fruits, and 
 creatures of the first year, to be ofiered to Him, bids 
 you remember Him in the days of your youth ! — 
 your first days, and your best, while the body is in 
 health, and the mind is vigorous, and all the facul- 
 ties of the soul fit you especially for His service and 
 His glory. Oh remember Him novj, ere other things 
 and other objects come and occupy the place which 
 belongs to God alone. Remember your breath is in 
 His hands ; that the axe of judgment is lying at the 
 root of the green tree as well as the dry, that the 
 blooming flower and the young sapling are often cut 
 down long ere the stately cedar or venerable oak bows 
 13 
 
146 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 
 
 itself to the earth. Build not upon length of days 
 — plume not yourself with the laurels which pro- 
 found learning, or hrilliant talent, or successful 
 enterprise may already have won for you. See how 
 soon they fade upon the brow which they adorn ! 
 Think of Kirke White, and of Spencer, and of 
 TJrquhart, and of M'Cheyne, and of Taylor, and 
 of Swaine, and of Grifein — those beautiful cedars 
 of God's Lebanon, — how verdant and how fragrant 
 were the honours which went down with them to 
 the tomb ! But they early lived in the Lord, and 
 unreservedly for the Lord, — and the Lord took them 
 early to live with himself for ever. They gave to 
 Him the first and the best, and He took them the 
 first to glory, and has given them the best of glory. 
 Who would not live and die as did they ? 
 
 " It matters little at what hour o' the day 
 The righteous fall asleep. Death cannot come 
 To those untimely who are fit to die. 
 The less of this cold world, the more of heaven, ^ 
 The briefer life, the earlier immortality." 
 
 Build, then, on nothing beneath the sky save an 
 immediate and undoubted interest in Christ. Until 
 you are born again, you are in peril; until God 
 possesses your heart, as to any real holiness, and 
 usefulness, and happiness, your life is a perfect blank. 
 You live to yourself; and not to live to Him who 
 created you, who upholds you, and who will soon 
 judge you — is a poor life indeed. O give to Christ 
 the golden period of your life ! Bind the early sacri- 
 fice upon the altar. Lay upon it the first fruits — 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE HOOT. 147 
 
 Jesus is worthy of your young affections, and of the 
 earliest development of your mind. O what a trea- 
 sure is Christ! To begin life with Christ in the 
 heart, is to begin with a radiant morning — the sure 
 prelude of a smiling day, and of a cloudless evening ! 
 Others are cut down in the meridian of life. With 
 them, the romance of youth is past ; the ideal has 
 vanished, succeeded by the sober reality. Immersed 
 in its cares, entangled with its perplexities, or eager 
 of its gains, its honours, and its pleasures, they heed 
 not the sun's altitude ; they watch not how far it 
 has declined upon the dial of human life, and how 
 near its setting is ! With noiseless wing, time pur- 
 sues its flight, and borne imperceptibly along upon 
 the rapid current of human a,ffairs, they realize not 
 that they were born and are destined for another 
 world, until they touch its confines ! 
 
 *' And while the scene on either side 
 Presents a gaudy, flattering show, 
 They gaze, in fond amusement lost, 
 Nor think to what a world they go." 
 
 A few, and but a few, are spared to the winter of 
 old age. The fruitless tree of many years, and of 
 long and unwearied culture, is permitted to stand 
 as a monument of God's long-suffering patience. 
 The tints of autumn are upon its once green foliage 
 and its branches are withered and decayed. Lono- 
 has God waited for the good fruit, but none ha^ 
 appeared. He has looked year after year, but has 
 looked in vain. Judgment and mercy have been 
 
148 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 
 
 sent, and both have alike proved ineffectnah "No 
 alarm, no seriousness, no reflection, no repentance, 
 no prayer, have given evidence that within the man 
 there dwelt a Uvmg soul. God has smitten, hut he 
 has not returned ; — God has smiled, but he has not 
 loved ! Oh where is there a spectacle in human life 
 more awful and affecting than a fruitless, uncon- 
 verted old age? To see the hoary head found in 
 the way of unrighteousness, worldliness, carnality, 
 frivolity, hardness of heart and unbelief, instead of 
 spirituality and sobriety, contrition and faith, is 
 melancholy indeed. There is a worldly old age, and 
 a sensual old age, and a frivolous old age, and a 
 sceptical old age, and an impenitent old age. And 
 there is, on the other hand, a heavenly-minded old 
 age, and a verdant, fruitful old age, and a happy old 
 age 1 Dear aged reader, which is thine ? Thou art 
 approaching the end of all earthly things ; thou 
 standest upon the borders of the invisible world ; 
 soon its tremendous realities will open upon you; 
 this may be the last appeal ; the grasp of death may 
 be near thee now, and mercy may be about to utter 
 her eternal farewell. My heart's desire and prayer 
 to God for you is, that you may be saved, even at 
 the eleventh hour. And O, should there appear, 
 even now, in the exercise of God's rich and sovereign 
 grace, the puttings forth of godly sorrow, and the 
 buddings of precious faith in thy soul — if now, at 
 even-tide, it should be light, — "thy light rising in 
 obscurity, and thy darkness as the noon-day" — then, 
 remember for your encouragement, the labourers 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. \ 
 
 who were welcomed into the vineyard at the ele\ 
 hour ; and think of the expiring malefactor, w\ 
 amidst the very pangs of dissolving nature, aua 
 when his spirit trembled on the verge of eternity, 
 uttered his cry for mercy, in penitence and faith, and 
 was heard, and was forgiven, and was received up 
 into glory — and press the truth to thy heart, that 
 yet — there is hope for thee ! 
 
 And what is the final end of the " tree that bear- 
 eth no good fruit?" It is "hewn down and cast 
 into the fire." Even as a tree marked for judgment, 
 it is " hewn down." Sometimes it is by a gradual 
 process of decay, long wasting disease bringing 
 down the sinner to the grave. At other times it is 
 sudden^ — a single stroke lays him low. " His breath 
 goeth forth, he returneth to his earth ; in that very 
 day his thoughts perish." All his * thoughts' of 
 long life, his ' thoughts' of worldly acquisition, his 
 'thoughts' of human fame, his * thoughts' of 
 domestic happiness, " in that very day his thoughts 
 perish. A slight pressure upon the brain, a single 
 pulse ceasing at the heart, a few moments' suspension 
 of air, and the soul is gone, in the twinkling of an 
 eye — gone to meet its God! The fruitless tree is 
 hewn down ! 
 
 And what follows ? Shall we lift the veil ? Christ 
 has done it. " Cast ye the unprofitable servant into 
 outer darkness, there shall be weeping and gnashing 
 of teeth." O horror of horrors ! O death of deaths ! 
 There they lie ! — They roll in billows of flame ! — 
 they gnaw their chains in agony ! — they torment 
 13* 
 
150 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 
 
 each other ! — they reproach themselves ! — they call 
 for water ! — they shriek in despair ! — they blaspheme 
 God ! — they invoke names once dear to them ! — they 
 stretch out their hands! — they sink, deeper and 
 deeper, and deeper, exclaiming, *' This worm, this 
 flame, this agony, /or ever — for ever!" Reader, 
 there is a Hell ! It is written — ah ! and it is written 
 with the pen of Heaven — ^'The wicked shall go 
 away into everlasting punishment." It is not the 
 eternal sleep of the infidel — that is a dream. It is 
 not the annihilation of the universalist — that is a 
 lie. It is the hell of fearful torments which the 
 Bible reveals just as clearly as the heaven of inef- 
 fable delight. Yes, there is a hell. Every moment 
 its door opens and shuts upon some Christless sinner, 
 entering to return no more — for ever. ^' And now 
 also the axe is laid unto the root of the trees : there- 
 fore every tree which bringeth not forth good fruit 
 is hewn down, and cast into the fire.'' Eternal ages 
 of torment will produce no alleviation and no change. 
 "If the tree fall toward the south, or toward the 
 north, in the place where the tree falleth, there it 
 shall be" — and that to all eternity. Reader, you 
 must be cut down, either by the sword of God's 
 Spirit, or by the axe of God's judgment. Which ? 
 Many will read these pages to whom this awful 
 character will not apply. They are "trees of right- 
 eousness, of the Lord's own right hand planting." 
 Removed from the wilderness of unrenewed nature, 
 sovereign grace has placed you in the Lord's garden ; 
 if this be so, then upon you rests the high obligation 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 151 
 
 to aim after much fraitfulness. Be not satisfied with 
 the low standard of the day. We are surrounded 
 by a worldly, time-serving, man-pleasing, temporiz- 
 ing profession of Christianity. Many are dead 
 while they live. There are the leaves of Christian 
 profession, but where are the fruits of the Spirit ? 
 Rise superior to this standard, and dare to be 
 singular for the Lord. Remember that Christ is 
 thy " Green Fir Tree from whom is thy fruit found." 
 All contrition for sin flows from a sight of his cross; 
 all obedience to his commands, from a sense of his 
 love ; all victory over temptation, from the power of 
 his grace ; and all consolation in sorrow, from the 
 sympathy of his heart. Perhaps you are bearing 
 fruit in the midst of deep trial. Ah ! never wast 
 thou, it may be, so fruitful as now ! Thy Father 
 never saw his image in thee so fairly reflected — 
 Jesus never saw his grace in thee so triumphant — 
 the Spirit never beheld his work so evident in thy 
 soul as now. Thou art bringing forth much precious 
 fruit beneath the pruning hand of the heavenly 
 Husbandman. Come, then, and rest thy weary 
 spirit — and satiate thy hungry soul under the 
 " Green Fir Tree." Listen how sweetly he invites 
 thee — "I am like a green fir tree ; from me is thy 
 fruit found." You are one with that Tree, if you 
 are a living branch. You are invited to come and 
 partake of its fruit, and to sit down under its 
 shadow. Its leaves are for thy healing, its fruit is 
 for thy nourishing, its branches are for thy refresh- 
 ing. All that Christ is, belongs to you. He is the 
 
152 THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 
 
 G-reen Fir Tree — " the sarae yesterday, and to day, 
 and for ever." E"o circumstance and no event can 
 possibly effect any change in him. All that he ever 
 was, as portrayed in the word, he is now, and will 
 continue to be. His word is faithful, his ti'uth is 
 firm, his love is unchangeable. Jesus is the Ever- 
 green — others may change, but he, never! He 
 remains the same rich, loving, kind, true, and 
 precious Brother, Friend, and Saviour, when the 
 frosts and the snows of wintry adversity have con- 
 gealed every spring, and have mantled with gloom 
 every object of creature good. Repair to him when 
 thou mayest, thou wilt find him the G-reen Fir Tree 
 — always the same. May the sentiments of the 
 sweet poet be those of every reader ! — 
 
 " Sweet is the voice which now invites, 
 And bids me shelter take 
 In Christ, the living Tree, whose leaves 
 No storms shall ever shake. 
 
 " Under his shade I would abide, 
 And there thy love, dear Lord, 
 Shall, to this weary heart of mine, 
 Rich stores of peace afford. 
 
 " With him my life is hid in God, 
 From him my fruit is found ; 
 Can aught, then, tear me from his love, 
 Can aught my hope confound ? 
 
 " Ah, no ! ho is the * Green Fir Tree,' 
 Firm as a rock he stands ; 
 Our hope as firm — to him we're bound 
 By love's electing bands. 
 
THE AXE LAID AT THE ROOT. 153 
 
 When they who 'neath his shade do dwell, 
 
 *As corn revive shall they/ 
 Like lily and the vine shall grow, 
 
 But not like them decay. 
 
 ■ But like unto Mount Lebanon, 
 
 They shall their branches spread : 
 And sweetest fragrance breathe through Christ, 
 
 Their life, their rest, their head." 
 
CHAPTER YI. 
 
 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 *' My people have committed two evils ; they have forsaken me, the 
 fountain of living waters, and have hewed them out cisterns, broken 
 cisterns, that can hold no water." — Jer. ii. 13. 
 
 Sin has created a deep and an agonizing void in 
 the soul of man. There was a period — Oh that its 
 joys should have been enshrouded in a cloud so 
 dark ! — when every affection and aspiration of the 
 human mind soared tow^ards, and centred in, God. 
 Possessing a nature assimilating with the Divine 
 nature, and a heart capable of loving God with a 
 compass and a grasp of affection worthy of its 
 object — dwelling near the habitation of His holi- 
 ness, and holding the closest communion with Him 
 in all the privacy of his walk, man sought and 
 desired no other happiness than that which flowed 
 from God, the "Fountain of living waters." 
 God was in all his mercies, and all his mercies led 
 him to God. But a woful change has taken place. 
 A fearful chasm has succeeded. The moment sin 
 invaded paradise, touching with its deadly taint 
 this glorious and happy creature, he swerved from 
 the centre of his repose, and becoming sensible of 
 
 an instantaneous loss, his restless and craving soul 
 
 (154) 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 155 
 
 went in quest of a substitute to occupy the void 
 which his guilt had created. In a word, he forsook 
 the Fountain for the cistern, the Creator for the 
 creature ; and God, in return, abandoned him to all 
 the dire consequences of so foolish and so fatal an 
 exchange. To the contemplation of this state, as 
 it is portrayed in the history of the unrenewed 
 mind, let us now bend our thoughts, gathering from 
 it those lessons of wisdom which it is so eminently 
 calculated to supply. 
 
 The first great truth that meets us is, God's figu- 
 rative revelation of Himself — "Me, the Fountain 
 of living waters." Do we predicate this of the Fa- 
 ther ? Then, here is a truth which, for its vastness 
 and its preciousness, is surpassed by no other. It 
 meets a phase of Christian experience not often 
 glanced at. We allude to the secret tendency which 
 there is in us to a partiality in our estimate of the 
 cost of redemption. There is a proneness to keep 
 out of sight the interest which the Father took in 
 the salvation of His church ; and to look upon the 
 work of the Son as though it originated and pur- 
 chased all the love, and the benevolence, and the 
 allurings which God the Father is represented as 
 manifesting towards his revolted but recovered fami- 
 ly. You have studied but imperfectly the wonders 
 of redemption — have but partially seen its glories 
 — with shallow line have fathomed its depth — and 
 with feeble pinion have soared to its height, if you 
 have not been accustomed to associate the Father's 
 purpose of grace and love with every step which the 
 
15G BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 Son took in working out the recovery of a lost 
 church. So wont are we to fix our admiring and 
 adoring gaze upon the incarnate Son — so wont to 
 entwine our exclusive affection around him who for 
 us ' loved not his life unto the death,' as to come 
 short of the stupendous and animating truth, that 
 all the love, grace, and wisdom which appear so con- 
 spicuous and so resplendent in salvation, have their 
 fountain-head in the heart of God the Father ! May 
 we not trace to the holding of this partial view, those 
 hard and injurious thoughts of his character, and 
 those crude and gloomy interpretations of his go- 
 vernment, which so many of us bear towards him ? 
 And was it not this contracted and shadowy con- 
 ception of the Father which Jesus so pointedly, yet 
 so gently rebuked in his disciple, "If ye had known 
 me, ye should have known my Father also : and 
 from henceforth ye know him and have seen him." 
 To this, his incredulous disciple still objected, " Lord, 
 show us the Father, and it sufiiceth us. Jesus saith 
 unto him. Have I been so long time with you, and 
 yet hast thou not known me, Philip? He that 
 hath seen me, hath seen the Father; how sayest 
 thou then. Show us the Father ?" What further 
 testimony, and what more conclusive proof need we ? 
 "He that hath seen me hath seen the Father^ Do 
 we see the glory of Jesus beaming through the at- 
 tempted concealment of his humanity ? — it is the 
 glory of the Father shining. Do we follow Jesus in 
 his walks of mercy, and behold him lavishing the 
 exuberance of his tenderness and sympathy upon 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 157 
 
 the objects of misery and want who thronged his 
 way ? — strange though it may seem, yet^ in those 
 dispL^ys of love, and in those meltings of compas- 
 sion, and in that voice of mercy, and in those tears 
 of sympathy, we see and hear the Father himself. 
 Do we contemplate the love of Jesus, labouring, suf- 
 fering, dying? — we see \\\q Fathers love in equal 
 vastness, strength, and intensity. He that hath thus 
 seen the Son, hath also seen the Father. 
 
 "Would we breathe a syllable, or pen a line, tend- 
 ing to lessen your attachment to the Son ? God for- 
 bid ! Rather would we heighten your love, and ele- 
 vate it to a standard never reached before. AVe 
 claim for Christ your highest admiration and your 
 supreme affection; and nnhesitatingl}' declare, that 
 there is not an object in the universe so worthy of 
 them as he. But we are jealous of the Father's 
 glory ; and we wish to guide you through the chan- 
 nel to the Fountain from whence it flows — even the 
 eternal purpose, the everlasting love, the covenant 
 mercy of God the Father. Here is the grand secret 
 revealed of God so loving to the world. His love 
 originated the salvation of His Church — the salva- 
 tion of the Church did not originate His love. 
 Think not, then, that the work of Jesus was the 
 procuring cause of God's love to sinners ! O no ! 
 You do him sore injustice and wrong if so you inter- 
 pret his affection. He loved the Church long before 
 He sent His Son from His bosom to die for it. 
 There was the love, thirsting, panting, and longing 
 for an outlet, and only finding it through the riven 
 14 
 
158 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 bosom of Jesus. Oh ! to see that every step which 
 Jesus took to work out our redemption from the 
 curse, was in perfect harmony with the purpose, the 
 mind, and the heart of the Father ! He could, with 
 all truth, say, as he travailed in soul, "I and my 
 Father are one." — "I do always those things which 
 please him." — The Father that dwelleth in me, he 
 doeth the works." — "I am in the Father and the 
 Father in me." Behold, then, the Fountain of liv- 
 ing waters! The infinite, the eternal, and inex- 
 haustible Fountain — the Father's love ! Do you now 
 marvel at redemption ? Do you now wonder at His 
 unspeakable gift? The mystery is explained in the 
 Father's love. "In this was manifested the love of 
 God towards us, because that God sent his only-be- 
 gotten Son into the world, that we might live 
 through him." — "Herein is love, not that we loved 
 God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be 
 the propitiation for our sins." Learn, dear Christian 
 reader, to entwine the Father in the affections that 
 cluster around the Son. Eternally welled in His in- 
 finite heart, was the love which constrained Him 
 not to spare His own Son, that He might spare you. 
 Give to him an equal place in your thoughts, your 
 affections, your worship, and your service. Blend 
 him with every view which you take of Jesus. As- 
 sociate His love who gave, with every hallowed re- 
 membrance of his love who was given. And when 
 you see the heart of the Son broken wdth sorrow, 
 think that it "pleased JEnovAn to bruise him and to 
 put him to grief for the love which He bore the 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 159 
 
 Church. Behold what a fountain of life is God ! 
 All intelligences, from the highest angel in heaven, 
 to the lowest creature on earth, drawing every breath 
 of their existence from Ilim. " In Him we live and 
 move and have our being." But he is more than 
 this to the Church. He is the Fountain of love as 
 well as of life. The spirits of "just men made per- 
 fect," and the redeemed on earth, satiate their 
 thirsty souls at the overflowing fulness of the Fath- 
 er's love. How much do we need this truth ! What 
 stinted views, unjust conceptions, and wrong inter- 
 pretations have we cherished of Him, simply 
 because we overlook His character as the Fountain 
 of living waters. We " limit the Holy One of Is- 
 rael." We judge of him by our poor, narrow con- 
 ception of things. We think that He is such a one 
 as we ourselves are. We forget in our approaches, 
 that we are coming to an Infinite Fountain. That 
 the heavier the demand we make upon God, the 
 more we shall receive, and that the oftener we come, 
 the more are we welcome. That we cannot ask too 
 much. That our sin, and His dishonour, are, that 
 w^e ask so little. We forget that He is glorified in 
 .giving ; and that the more grace He metes out to 
 his people, the richer the revenue of praise which 
 He receives in return. How worthy of such an in- 
 finite Fountain of love and grace is His " Unspeak- 
 able Gift!" It came from a large heart; and the 
 heart that gave Jesus will uphold no good thing 
 from them that walk uprightly. 
 
 The same figure will apply with equal truth to 
 
160 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 the Lord Jesus Christ. It is a most expressive one. 
 He thus appropriates it to himself — "Jesus stood 
 and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let him come 
 unto me and drink." And in another place he de- 
 scribes the water which he gives, as "living water." 
 John iv. 10. Jesus is essential life. But he pos- 
 sesses also mediatorial life, held in covenant for his 
 people. To this hfe he alludes in these words: 
 " Yerily, verily, I say unto you. The hour is coming, 
 and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of 
 the Son of God : and they that hear shall live. For 
 as the Father hath life in himself; so hath he given 
 to the Son to have life in himself." John v. 25, 26. 
 Thus clear is it, that Jesus is the "Fountain of liv- 
 ins: waters." What moral death is in the soul of 
 man until he drinks of this living water ! We can- 
 not, nor dare we, close our eyes to the truth, such 
 are the precious interests at stake. The soul of man, 
 as to everything that is holy and spiritual, is 
 morally dead. His professed faith, and works, and 
 prayers, and religion are dead. All he does while 
 in an unrenewed state, springs from death. He 
 may be powerfully operated upon by a kind of 
 religious galvanism. There may be apparent alarm, 
 and conviction, and excitement, under the preach- 
 ing of the truth, and solemn providences ; and yet 
 (to illustrate his condition by a more scriptural 
 figure), like the bones in Ezekiel's vision, though 
 there may be a shaking, and the outward covering 
 of skin and flesh, yet " there is no breath.'' " Hav- 
 ing the for7n of godliness, but denying the power 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 161 
 
 thereof." It is by the quickeniDg of the Spirit alone, 
 that he becomes a living soul. 
 
 But what a Fountain of life is Jesus ! The dead, 
 on whose ear falls the sound of his voice, live. 
 There is a grace in Christ — quickening, regenerat- 
 ing, life-giving grace; and to whomsoever that 
 grace is imparted, he that was lying cold and 
 inanimate in the valley, begins to move, to live, to 
 breathe, and to arise. One touch of Christ, a 
 whisper of his voice, a breath of his Spirit, begets a 
 life in the soul that never dies. That faint and 
 feeble pulsation which often the most skilful touch 
 can scarcely detect, is as deathless as the life of 
 God ! A stream from the Fountain of essential 
 life has entered the soul, and it lives, and will live, 
 a glorious life, running on parallel with God's 
 eternity. What a Fountain of life is Jesus ! Think 
 of its redundancy. There is the fulness of life in 
 Christ. The grace that is welled in Jesus, is as 
 infinite in its source as it is divine in its nature. 
 "In him dwelt all the fulness of the Godhead 
 bodily." " It pleased the Father that in him 
 should all fulness dwell." An uncreated fulness, it 
 must possess a redundancy inexhaustible. Had 
 the Father deposited this life-giving grace in all the 
 angels in heaven, it had long since been exhausted. 
 Think of the myriads, thirsting for holiness and for 
 happiness, who have knelt and slaked their thirst at 
 this Fountain — think of the myriads who have here 
 filled their empty vessels, and have gone away 
 with joy and hope springing high in their minds. 
 14* 
 
162 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 Think of the myriads whose sins his blood has 
 washed away, whose sonls his righteousness has 
 clad, whose corruptions his grace has subdued, and 
 whose sorrows his love has comforted. Think of 
 the iniquities which he has pardoned ; of the back- 
 slidings which he has healed ; of the grief which he 
 has removed ; of the tears which he has dried ; of 
 the souls which he has saved. Think of the 
 myriads, once drinking from the stream below, but 
 w^ho are now drinking from the Fountain-head in 
 glory. And yet is this Fountain as full as ever! 
 ISTot one hair's-breadth has it sunk. Jesus is as 
 full of pardoning grace for the guilty, and of justi- 
 fying grace for the vile, and of sanctifying grace 
 for the unw^orthy, as ever ; full enough to meet the 
 wants of every poor, thirsty, panting soul who 
 ventures near. Oh, what a precious truth is this ! 
 Precious indeed to him who feels his insufficiency, 
 poverty, and need. "What, reader, is your want? 
 w^hat your sorrow ? what your trial ? what your infirm- 
 ity ? what 3^our burthen ? Whatever it may be, 
 repair with it to the Fountain of living waters, and 
 despair not of a gracious welcome, and of an adequate 
 supply. It is a Fountain, and a living Fountain. It 
 needs no persuasion to ilow, for it flows sponta- 
 neouslj' ; and wherever it flows there is life. 
 
 This reminds us of \t^ free7iess. The grace that 
 is in Christ Jesus must, from its ver}^ nature, be 
 unpurchaseable. It implies absolute poverty in the 
 creature, and infinite aflluence in God. Could it, 
 by any possibility, be purchased, it would cease to 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 163 
 
 be what it now is, the ''* grace of God." Because 
 it is so great, so rich, aud so infinite, God has made 
 it as free as the sun-light and the air. Nothing can 
 procure it. Tears cannot — convictions cannot — 
 faith cannot — obedience cannot — prayer cannot — 
 yea, not even can the most costly work of God's 
 Spirit in the soul procure a drop of this "living 
 water." Qodi gives it, and he gives it, as the word 
 implies, freely. This is its glory — it is an unpur- 
 chaseable, and a freely bestowed gift. Upon no 
 other terms is it granted. Consequently, no condi- 
 tion of human character, and no case of human 
 guilt, are excluded. The vilest of the vile, the 
 poor insolvent sinner, the needy, the wretched, the 
 penniless, the voice of free grace welcomes to the 
 "living waters." What has kept you so long from 
 this fountain ? You have thirsted, and panted, and 
 desired ; but still your soul has not been replenished. 
 You have, perhaps, long been seeking the Lord, 
 asking the way, and desiring salvation. Why have 
 you not found him ? You have borne the heavy 
 burthen of sin, month after month, and year after 
 year, knowing nothing of a sense of pardon, of 
 acceptance, of adoption, of rest. And why ? 
 Because you have stumbled at the freeness of the 
 gift. You have expected to receive it as a sairitj 
 not seeing that God will only give it to you as a 
 sinner. But hear the word of the Lord : " By 
 grace are ye saved ;" " Bedeeraed without money ;" 
 "Nothing to pay :" " Whosoever will, let him come 
 and take of the water of Hfe freely." O receive 
 
104 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 into your heart this truth, and you will be a happy 
 man ! All creation will seem to smile upon you — 
 the heavens will smile — the earth will smile — yea, 
 God himself will smile. Dropping its chain, your 
 emancipated soul will spring into the glorious 
 liberty of the sons of God. What sovereignty, 
 sweetness, and glory will now appear in the very 
 act that forgives all, forgets all, and which introdu- 
 ces you into a new world, redolent of joy and 
 delight. And while this precious fountain of grace 
 and love, proceeding from the overflowing heart of 
 the Saviour, thus flows, you will exclaim, — 
 
 *' My soul is caught, 
 Heaven's sovereign blessings clustering from the cross, 
 Kush on her in a throng, and close her round, 
 The prisoner of amaze/' 
 
 One other quality of the life-giving water of 
 grace yet remains to be noticed — we allude to its 
 satisfying nature. Can this be affirmed of any other 
 bliss ? Is this an ingredient in the thousand cups of 
 creature good which men so eagerly put to their lips ? 
 Select your choicest, fondest, sweetest temporal mercy 
 and say, is it satisfying to thy soul ? Does it, in its 
 fullest enjoyment, leave no want unsupplied, no 
 desire unmet, no void unfilled ? Does it meet the 
 cravings of the mind ? Go into the garden of 
 creature blessing, and pluck the loveliest flower, 
 and taste the sweetest fruit ; repair to the cabinet 
 of friendship, and select from thence its choicest 
 pearl ; pass round the wide circle of earth-born joy, 
 
BROKEN CISTERJfS. 165 
 
 and place thy hand upon the chief and the best — is 
 it the feeling of your heart, and the language of 
 your lips — "I am satisfied^ I want no more?" 
 Does it quench the spirit's thirst ; does it soothe 
 the heart's sorrow ; does it meet the mind's 
 cravings ; does it quiet the troubled conscience, and 
 lift the burthen from the aching heart ? no ! 
 The height, the depth, the length, the breadth, 
 exclaim, " It is not in me — am I in God's stead?" 
 But how blessed is that which truly satisfies ! 
 Listen to the gracious words of the Saviour. 
 " Whoever drinketh of the water that I will give 
 him, shall never thirst ; but the water that I will 
 give him shall be in him a well of water, springing 
 up into everlasting life." Did language ever utter 
 a sentiment more true than this ! Jesus is an all- 
 satisfying portion. They who have tried him can 
 testify that it is so. His is not a satisfaction in name, 
 but in reality and in truth. There is a felt, a 
 realized sense of holy satiety. The mind is content. 
 The believer wanders no more in quest of happiness 
 or of rest. He has found them both in Jesus. He 
 is satisfied to stake his eternal all upon the finished 
 work of Immanuel — to live upon his smile, to 
 abide in his love, to draw upon his grace, to submit 
 to his wdll, to bear his cross, to be guided by his 
 counsel, and afterwards to be received by him, and 
 to him, into glory. " Whom have I in heaven but 
 thee ? and who is there upon earth that I desire 
 beside thee ?" " My heart infixed, O God, my heart 
 is fixed: I will sing and give praise," — are the 
 
166 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 breathings of his adoring, loving, fixed heart. 
 Who that has fully received Christ into his heart, 
 finds that heart sighing to return again to the bond- 
 age and the flesh-pots of Egypt ? No man, having 
 tasted of the old wine of God's everlasting love in 
 Jesus, straightway desires the new wine of the 
 world's everchanging joys. Satisfied with what he 
 has through grace thus found, he exclaims, " The 
 old is better." 'No. The Lord Jesus imparts con- 
 tentment to the soul in which he enters and dwells. 
 Vast as were those desires before, urgent as were 
 those necessities, insatiable as were those cravings, 
 and restless as was that mind, Jesus has met and 
 satisfied them all. The magnetic power of his love 
 has attracted to, and fixed the mind upon himself. 
 "He satisfieth the longing soul, and filleth the 
 hungry soul with goodness." The believer is 
 satisfied that God should possess him fully, and 
 govern him supremely, and guide him entirely, and 
 be the sole Fountain from whence he draws his 
 happiness, gratefully acknowledging, "All my 
 springs are in Thee." Thus is he content to be just 
 where his Father would have him. He is satisfied 
 that he possesses God, and that possessing God, he 
 has all good in God. He knows that his Father 
 cares for him ; that he has undertaken to guide all 
 his steps, and to provide for all his wants. The 
 only anxiety which he feels as to the present, is, how 
 he may the most glorifj^ his dearest, his only Friend, 
 casting the future on Him in the simphcity of child- 
 like faith, which has 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 16T 
 
 " No care a day beyond to-day ; 
 No thought about to-morrow.'^ 
 
 Nor is the satisfaction thus felt limited to the 
 present state. It passes on with the believer to 
 eternity. It enters with him into the mansions of 
 bliss. There, in unruffled serenity, in unalloyed joy, 
 in unmingled bliss, it is perfect and complete. 
 " Thou wilt show me the path of life : in thy 
 presence is fulness of joy ; at thy right hand there 
 are pleasures for evermore." Happy saint ! who hast 
 found thine all in Jesus ! Glorified spirit ! would we 
 recall you to these scenes of sin, of suffering, and 
 of death? ISTo ! the needle of thy soul no longer 
 varies and trembles, diverted from its centre by 
 other and treacherous objects, — Jesus fixes it now, 
 and fixes it for ever. Drink on, ye spirits of the 
 just made perfect, drink ! " Kaphtali ! satisfied 
 with favour, and full with the blessing of the Lord, 
 possess thou the west and the south." Yea, range 
 the entire compass of infinite good, for all things in 
 God, in Christ, and in the covenant, are yours, and 
 yours to all eternity ! 
 
 But man has his wretched substitutes for this 
 "Fountain of living waters." This is the solemn 
 charge which God here alleges against him. " They 
 have forsaken me the fountain of living waters, and 
 hewn them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can 
 hold no water." There are three circles into which 
 we will introduce the reader, each one affording 
 evidence and illustration of the truth and nature of 
 
168 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 this charge. The first circle, perhaps the widest 
 and the most melancholy, is, the circle of a self- 
 righteous world. In no instance does the truth of 
 this statement receive so affecting a confirmation as 
 in this. What is the sad history of man in relation 
 to this indictment ? Has he not forsaken the right- 
 eousness of God, and sought a substitute in his 
 own ? What is man's own righteousness, the best 
 that he ever made, but the hewing out of a created 
 cistern, in the place of the infinite fountain ? Wlien 
 Adam fell, he forsook God; and when expelled 
 from paradise, he came out with a fig-leaf covering, 
 a wretched substitute for the beautiful robe which 
 he had just cast aside, and a melancholy and 
 expressive emblem and badge of his own shame, 
 and of our ruin. It was then that the solemn 
 charge was first laid at the door — of forsaking the 
 Fountain for a cistern. And what a wretched 
 cistern it is ! See how contracted and how shallow ! 
 In vain he "goes about to establish a righteousness, 
 of his own, not submitting himself to the righteous- 
 ness of God." At every step he fails. "For the 
 bed is shorter, than that a man can stretch himself 
 on it ; and the covering narrower, than that he can 
 wrap himself in it." Isaiah xxviii. 20. His 
 obedience, at best, must be but a partial and an 
 imperfect one, and failing in a single point, entails 
 eternal despair. "For whosoever shall keep the 
 whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty 
 of all." But not only is it a shallow and contracted, 
 but it is also a ^'hrolcen cistern." It can hold no 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 169 
 
 water of life or of peace, of consolation or of joy. 
 In vain his spirit, tormented with guilt and agitated 
 with fear, repairs to it for satisfaction and repose — 
 it supplies it not. Let a man, for example, who is 
 thus seeking salvation by the law, take the holiest 
 day in the calendar of his life ; let it be as free as it 
 is possible for a fallen creature to make it from sin ; 
 let it be filled up with religious duties and services 
 — it closes, and the curtains of night have drawn 
 around him. Reposing on his pillow, he throws 
 forward a glance into the eternal world — he thinks 
 of the holy God, of the righteous law, of the solemn 
 judgment, and the question, " "What, if this night 
 I should be summoned to stand before my Judge ! 
 — what, if to-morrow's sun should rise upon my 
 corpse, and I, a departed spirit should be mingling 
 with the dread realities of an unseen world ! " — 
 and he trembles and turns pale. What! has not 
 his lest obedience, his holiest day, his strictest 
 observance brought peace to his conscience and 
 quietness to his soul ? What, does no bright hope 
 of glory play around his pillow, and no loving, 
 peaceful view of God cradle him to rest? Ah, no ! 
 he has " forsaken the fountain of living waters, and 
 has hewn him out a cistern, a broken cistern, that 
 can hold no water," and his night closes in upon 
 him hung with the drapery of hopeless gloom. To 
 you, reader, is this solemn word now sent. Ah ! 
 while your eye has been scanning this page, has 
 there not been in your heart the secret conviction 
 of its truth? You have forsaken the righteousness 
 15 
 
170 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 of God, and for years have been digging into the 
 law, hoping thus to find in its strictest observance, 
 some well-spring of life and peace to your soul. 
 But allj^our toil has been in vain, and all your time 
 mis-spent. And why ? because, " by the works of 
 the law shall no man livicg be justified." And as 
 true peace flows only through the channel of justi- 
 fication by faith, turning your back upon tTiat 
 channel, there is, there can be, no peace for your 
 soul. that this voice, now sounding in faithful- 
 ness in your ear, may awaken you to a sense of 
 your delusion and your folly, and win you to the 
 "good and the right way!" O that you may be 
 persuaded to abandon the implements of a self- 
 wrought righteousness, with which you have so 
 long fruitlessly laboured, and just as you are, — 
 poor, guilty, vile, helpless, and hopeless, — betake 
 yourself to the " righteousness of God, which is by 
 faith in Christ Jesus!" The law is a "broken 
 cistern;" it holds no sweet waters of salvation, it 
 gives out no streams of peace. But the Lord Jesus 
 is the living fountain. He is the " end of the law 
 for righteousness to every one that believeth." He 
 has " brought in a new and an everlasting right- 
 eousness" for the fall justification of poor sinners, 
 such as you. Abandon at once and for ever the 
 broken cistern of a creature righteousness, — too 
 long has it allured but to deceive you, — and repair 
 to the fountain of the Divine righteousness, which 
 never has and never will deceive a believing sinner. 
 Drink, O drink, from this life-giving fountain! 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 171 
 
 Hero are peace, joy, confidence, and hope. 
 Clothed in this righteousness, you can look your 
 sins in the face, and death in the face, and hell in 
 the face, and fear nothing. "Who shall lay any- 
 thing to the charge of God's elect ? It is God that 
 
 JUSTIFIETII." 
 
 We introduce the reader within another circle. 
 In the unrenewed, ungodly world, what accumulated 
 and melancholy evidence presents itself of man's 
 abandonment of an infinite for a finite good — the 
 fountain for the cistern ! It matters not whether 
 he is found in the intellectual, or in the sensual 
 world, the world of science, or of sense ; whether 
 he drinks from the more refined, or the more 
 polluted source, — he has forsaken God, and has 
 sought out some false and wretched substitute. 
 Man is an inventive creature. And from the 
 moment that he first turned away from the infinite 
 source of happiness, until the present, he has been 
 bent upon " finding out many inventions" of crea- 
 ture good. Not a day returns but it finds him still 
 delving into the earth in quest of that which will 
 quench the burning thirst of his soul. He formed 
 the cistern, and lo ! it proves a " broJeen cistern 
 that can hold no water !" The man of science has 
 effected his ingenious discovery, the geometrician 
 has solved his abstruse problem, the scholar has 
 completed his production, the statesman has carried 
 his measure, the warrior has gained his battle, the 
 speculator has amassed his wealth, and the competitor 
 has won his prize — are they happy ? Follow them 
 
172 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 into privacy, and behold them, wlien the fragrant 
 incense of flattery, and the low murmur of applause, 
 and the delirious excitement of success, and the 
 burning flush of victory have, like a beautiful 
 vision, passed away, and they are alone with them- 
 selves. Are they happy ? Oh ! that melancholy 
 countenance, pale with thought — that deep-drawn 
 sigh — that languid look — that restless pace — too 
 painfully reveal that happiness — that heaven-descend- 
 ins^-creature — hath not her home and her dwellino;- 
 place there ! And why marvel ye at this ? They 
 have committed two great sins — they have forsaken 
 the Fountain of living waters, and have hewn them 
 out broken cisterns that can hold no water. Survey 
 the daughter of worldly loleasure. She has retired 
 from her evening fascination to her couch of repose, 
 intoxicated with the incense of adulation offered to 
 her intelligence and her beauty. But the excitement 
 evaporates, and the mind turns in upon itself — is 
 she happy f Ask that heaving bosom — ask that 
 aching head — ask that burning tear — ask that 
 feverish restlessness — ask that sleepless pillow ; each 
 would exclaim — " It is not here ! " And still do 
 you wonder? "Wonder not — she has forsaken the 
 Fountain of living waters, and has hewn out a 
 broken cistern that can hold no water. Take the 
 testimony of one who had ransacked the world of 
 earthly good : ''I have seen all the works that are 
 done under the sun ; and behold, all is vanity and 
 vexation of spirit." 
 And what is the history of creature idolatry^ but 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 173 
 
 a mournful record of beautiful and inviting cisterns, 
 which nevertheless, God has destroyed ? This is a 
 wide and affecting circle. We enter it cautiously, 
 we allude to it feelingly and tenderly. We touch 
 the subject with a pen that has often sought (though 
 in much feebleness, it is acknowledged) to comfort 
 the mourner, and to lift the pressure from the bowed- 
 down spirit. We enter the domestic circle ; oh ! 
 what beautiful cisterns of creature good, broken and 
 empty, meet us here! The affectionate husband, 
 the fond wife, the devoted parent, the pleasant child, 
 the faithful friend, laid low in death. They were 
 lovely cisterns, and the heart loved to drink from 
 them its bliss. But lo ! God has smitten, and they 
 are broken, and the sweet waters have passed away ! 
 Was there not a worshipping of the creature rather 
 than the Creator? Was not the object deified ? Was 
 not the attachment idolatrous ? Did not the loved 
 one occupy Christ's place in the heart ? Ah ! the 
 wound, the void, the desolateness, the lonely grief 
 of that heart, but too truly tell who was enthroned 
 upon its strongest and its best affections. 
 
 But we will seek an illustration of our subject 
 from a narrower circle. Let us pass within the ivorld 
 of religious lorofession. What numerous and affect- 
 ing proofs meet us here of the truth of God's sol- 
 emn charge ! Look at the false teaching of the day. 
 What are the heretical doctrines which are now de- 
 fended with such ability, and propagated with such 
 zeal, but so many cisterns of error hewn out by man 
 as substitutes for the fountain of revealed truth ?— 
 15* 
 
174 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 doctrines that sink revelation and exalt tradition, 
 and so deny tlie word of God ; that ascribe regen- 
 erating grace to sacraments, and so deny the Holy 
 Spirit ; that teach the "real presence " in the Lord's 
 Supper, and so do away with the sacrifice and 
 atonement of Christ ; that make religion to consist 
 in a mere observance of external rites, and so deceive 
 and ruin immortal souls ; that obliterate the revealed 
 truth of future and eternal punishment, thus weak- 
 ening the power and shading the glory of God's 
 moral government. "We hesitate not to say, that 
 these, and their kindred heresies, are the inventions 
 of man, and designed to beguile souls from the 
 pure fountain of truth. They are cisterns of human 
 contrivance, v/hich hold no water but the water 
 of death. 
 
 Shall we find nothing in the still smaller circle of 
 the true Church of God which would seem to indi- 
 cate a proneness to substitute some object in the ex- 
 perience of the believer for Christ? Yerily, we 
 think so. To adduce an example, alas ! but too com- 
 mon — When the act of faith is substituted for the 
 object of faith, w^hat is this but the hewing out of a 
 broken cistern ? Whatever I put in Christ's place 
 necessarily becomes a substitute for Christ. If I look 
 to my faith for comfort, and peace, and evidence, 
 instead of my faith looking to Christ for these, I 
 exchansce the Fountain for the cistern. We are 
 now touching upon a truth of vital moment. Jesus 
 is the fountain of all life, light, grace, and love to 
 the believer. Faith is but the channel through which 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 175 
 
 these blessings are received. And yet, who has not 
 detected in his heart a tendency to look to faith for 
 the evidence of his Christianity, instead of to 
 Christ ? thus making the act of believing a substi- 
 tute for the olject in which we believe. You have 
 long been pleading, as your reason for the unsettled 
 and unhappy state of your mind, the weakness of your 
 faith. What, I ask, is this, but the making a Saviour 
 of your faith ? It was not faith that died for you — it 
 is not faith that saves you. It is Christ, and Christ 
 alone. Your evidences, your peace, your joy, 3^our 
 hope, all must ilow/rom Jesus. "Thou hast made 
 me glad through thy w^ork," was the Psalmist's ex- 
 perience. And your soul also will be made glad 
 through the atoning, finished work of Christ. That 
 you should have found faith a broken cistern of 
 soul-comfort, should create in you no surprise. The 
 Lord is jealous for his glory — he will not give it to 
 a creature, nor will he give it to a grace. Precious 
 as that grace may be, it never can be a substitute 
 for Christ's precious work. If by any means I ex- 
 clude the sun from my garden, should I wonder 
 that my seed did not germinate, and that my 
 flowers did not appear, and that my plants drooped 
 and died ? Surely not. And if I veil the Sun of 
 Kighteousness from my soul, — if some intervening 
 object is allowed to arrest his beams, so that they 
 fall not directly and warmly upon the "incor- 
 ruptible seed" sown in my heart, need I wonder that 
 it springs not forth in blossom, or that the blos- 
 som falls ere it sets in fruit ? But turn, believer, 
 
176 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 from this broken cistern to Jesus the fountain. 
 Draw your comfort, not from the channel, but from 
 the source whence it proceeds. Stumble no longer 
 at the weakness of your faith. Turn your eye from 
 every object but the Lord our Righteousness, in 
 whom you may stand before God, the object of his 
 love and delight. 
 
 Again, "When we substitute spiritual frames and 
 feelings for a simple resting on the Lord Jesus, we 
 hew out broken cisterns that afford no true refresh- 
 ment to the soul. These are perpetually varying. 
 The billows of the sea, and the winds of heaven, 
 are no more restless, fluctuating, and uncertain. 
 But if the mariner incessantly watches the heaving 
 ocean, guiding his bark by its ever-changing undu- 
 lations and currents, what progress towards his 
 haven will he make ? And thou wilt make no ad- 
 vance in the divine life, if thine eye is ever upon thy- 
 self instead of Christ. What though the experience 
 of to-day is the opposite of the experience of yester- 
 day, — yesterday all brightness, to-day all cloudiness ; 
 yesterday thy soul like a well-tuned psalm, to-day 
 every string loosed and uttering no melody ; yester- 
 day Jesus felt to be so near and precious, to-day 
 seeming to awaken not a loving emotion in thine 
 heart ; yesterday communion with God so sweet, 
 to-day none whatever; yesterday desiring to walk 
 uprightly, holily, and humbly, to-day detecting so 
 much that is vacillating, weak and vile; — never- 
 theless, Jesus is not changed. The work of Christ 
 is the same — your acceptance in him is the same — 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 177 
 
 hi^^ intercession in heaven for thee is the same ; then, 
 wherefore should you % to spiritual experiences for 
 succour, strength, and consolation — rising when 
 they rise, falling when they fall — when all your 
 standing, joy, peace, and hope are entirely out of 
 yourself, and are solely in Christ? "What though 
 you change a thousand times in one day ? he never 
 changes. God may vary His dispensations; He 
 may alter His mode of dealing — He may change 
 the nature of His discipline — He may vary the les- 
 son, but His loving-kindness and His truth are as 
 unchangeable as his very being. He may dry up 
 the earthly cistern, but He will never seal up the 
 heavenly fountain; that will flow on in grace 
 through all time, and in glory through all eternity. 
 And is it not an evil thing thus to have forsaken 
 the Fountain of living waters ? God speaks of it as 
 involving two evils— the evil of forsaking Him, and 
 the evil of substituting a false object of happiness for 
 Him. '' My people have committed two evils : they 
 have forsaken me the Fountain of living water, and 
 they have hewn them out cisterns, broken cisterns, 
 that can hold no water." We are now^ touching upon, 
 perhaps, the most solemn and important part of this 
 chapter — the sinfulness of forsaking God, and of sub- 
 stituting something else for God. Dear reader, the 
 true painfulness of this subject consists not in the sor- 
 row which thy heart may have felt in seeing thy cis- 
 tern broken. Ah no ! the true agony should be,*^ that 
 thou hast, in thy wanderings and creature idolatry, 
 sinned, deeply sinned, against the Lord thy God. 
 
178 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 This, and not thy loss, ought to lay thee low before 
 Him. This, and not thy broken scheme of earthly 
 happiness, ought to fill thee with the bitterness of 
 sorrow, and clothe thee with the drapery of woe. 
 Oh ! to have turned thy back upon such a God, 
 upon such a Father, upon such a Friend, and to 
 have supposed that even a universe of creatures 
 could have made you happy without Ilim, ought to 
 bring you to His feet, exclaiming, " God be merciful 
 to me the chief of sinners !" Is it no sin to say to 
 God, as you have said a thousand times over — "I 
 prefer myself to Thee — my family to Thee — my 
 estate to Thee — my pleasure to Thee — my honor 
 to Thee ?" It is no sin to have taken the gifts with 
 which He endowed thee, or the wealth with which 
 He entrusted thee, and forming them into a golden 
 image, to have fallen down before it, exclamiug, 
 " This is thy God, O my soul !" yes, it is a sin, 
 the guilt and the greatness of which no language 
 can describe. There is coming a period, unconverted 
 reader, when thou wilt know it of a truth to be a sin. 
 A dying bed ! ah yes ! a dying bed ! the last cistern 
 broken ! the last joy fled ! the last hope expired ! And 
 now, without God, and without Christ, and without 
 hope ! "What ! is there not one drop of thy many earth- 
 ly cisterns left to cool thy spirit's burning ? Have all 
 thy creature olessings fled, as if appalled by the hor- 
 rors of the scene? Yes! allhavefled, and have left thee 
 alone upon the dreary precincts of an eternal world ! 
 " Oh ! how this eternity haunts me !" exclaimed a 
 gay votary of worldly pleasure, the moment before 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 179 
 
 her young, trembling spirit plunged into the dark 
 and measureless abyss. " Lord, the hope of 
 Israel, all that eorsake thee shall be ashamed, 
 
 AND they that DEPART FROM THEE SHALL BE WRITTEN 
 
 in the earth, because they have forsaken the 
 Lord, the fountain of living waters." 
 
 And is it no siuy believer in Jesus, to have 
 turned away in thine unbelief and inconstancy, 
 from the glorious redemption which the Lord has 
 obtained for thee at such a price, and to have sought 
 the assurance and the joy of thy salvation from other 
 sources than it ? What ! is not the atonins: work 
 of Jesus sufficient to give to thy believing soul solid 
 rest, and peace, and hope, but that thou shouldst 
 have turned thine eye from him, and have sought it 
 in the polluted and broken cistern of selfP slight 
 not the precious blood, and the glorious righteous- 
 ness, and the infinite fulness, and the tender love 
 of Jesus thus ! l!^ay, — you dishonour this precious 
 Jesus himself! Shall he have wrought such an 
 obedience, shall he have made such an atonement, 
 shall he have died such a death, shall he have risen 
 and have ascended up on high, all to secure your 
 full salvation and certain glory, and will you derive 
 the evidence and the comfort of your acceptance 
 from any other than this one precious source — 
 "Looking unto Jesus!" Look away, then, from 
 everything — to Jesus. ITo matter w^iat thou art, 
 look away from self — to Jesus. The more vile, the 
 more empty, the more unworthy, the greater reason 
 and the stronger argument w^herefore thou shouldst 
 
180 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 look entirely off thyself — to Jesus. His atoning 
 work is FINISHED by him, and is sealed by the 
 Father. It is impossible that God can reject you, 
 entirely renouncing yourself, and fleeing unto Christ. 
 Coming to Him in the name of Jesus, God cannot 
 deny you. He has pledged Himself that whatever is 
 asked in that name He will grant. Take Him at His 
 word ! Ask Him for the sense of His reconciled love 
 — ask Him for the spirit of adoption — ask Him for 
 the fihal, loving, and obedient heart — ask Him for 
 the meek, lowl}^, and submissive will. Yea, pour 
 out your heart before Him : God waits to grant your 
 utmost desire breathed out to Him m the name of 
 Jesus. He has given you His beloved Son — O 
 largess worthy of our God ! gift of gifts, priceless 
 and precious beyond all thought ! — what inferior 
 blessing will He, then, withhold ? 
 
 Suffer, in closing this chapter, an affectionate ex- 
 hortation. Turn every loss of creature-good into an 
 occasion of greater nearness to Christ. The dearest 
 and loveliest creature is but a cistern — an inferior 
 and contracted good. If it contains any sweetness, 
 the Lord put it there. If it is a medium of any 
 blessing to your soul, Jesus made it so. But forget 
 not, beloved, it is only a cistern. And what more ? 
 Shall I wound thee if I say it ? Tenderly do I speak 
 — and if, instead of leading you to, it draws you 
 from, the Fountain, in unerring wisdom, and in 
 tender mercy, and in faithful love, the Lord will 
 break it, that thou mayest learn, that while no crea- 
 ture can be a substitute for him, he himself can be 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 181 
 
 a substitute for all creatures. Thus, his friendship, 
 his love, and his presence, are frequently the sweetest 
 and the most fully enjoyed, when he has taken all 
 things else away. Jesus loves you far too much to 
 allow another, however dear, to eclipse and rival 
 him. " The day of the Lord will be upon all 
 pleasant pictures," and then the poor, imperfect 
 copy will retire, and give place to the divine and 
 glorious Original ; and God in Christ will be all in all. 
 One thought more— to some, perhaps, the sweetest 
 in this work — ^^g door of return u still open. The 
 Fountain is still accessible. The waters of life still 
 flow. " Ho ! every one that thirsteth, come ye to 
 the waters and drink." '' The Spirit and the bride 
 say, Come." "Return,, thou backsliding Israel, 
 saith the Lord, and I will not cause mine anger to 
 fall upon you ; for I am merciful, saith the Lord, and 
 will not keep anger for ever." Let your restored 
 heart respond, " Come, and let us return unto the 
 Lord ; for he hath torn, and he will heal us ; he hath 
 smitten, and he will bind us up." Be your posture, 
 in view of the cisterns which the Lord has broken 
 around you, one of high and holy expectation. 
 The Lord often removes one mercy, preparatory to 
 the bestowment of another. And he never i^ives 
 less, but always more, than he takes away. You 
 may have thought, in the depth of your heart's deep 
 sorrow, that your wound was incurable, and that 
 your blessing could not be replaced. But, ah' if 
 Jesus now enters thy heart through the breach which 
 his own hand has made, and occupies the vacancy 
 
182 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 which his own providence has created, then wilt thou 
 know of a truth, that there is One who can heal 
 thy wound, and replace thy mercy, giving you back 
 infinitely more than he took away, in giving you 
 Himself. You have, in the matter of your sorrow, 
 to do with One who himself was wounded, who 
 himself was a man of sorrows and acquainted with 
 grief; and who well understands the language of 
 grief, the meaning of sighs, and the eloquence of 
 tears. Dost thou go to thy lonely chamber to weep 
 there, thinking none are cognizant of thy grief? 
 You, too, may chant a song in the night of your 
 woe, in the language of a suffering brother : — 
 
 *' There was I met by One who had himself 
 Been hurt by the archers : in his side he bore, 
 And in his hands and feet, the cruel scar : 
 With gentle force, soliciting the task, 
 He drew them forth, and healed and bade me live." 
 
 "Who can tell what thoughts of peace, what resolves 
 of mercy, and what purposes of grace and love, may 
 now be treasured in the heart of God towards you ? 
 The present mournful dealing may be but the dark 
 background of a beautiful picture — portraying the 
 brightest, the holiest, the happiest period of thy life. 
 And this broken cistern of earth-born hope, over 
 which the eye weeps, and around which memory 
 loves so fondly to linger, may but give place to those 
 waters of renewing, sanctifying grace, which shall 
 be in you a springing-well, rising into everlasting 
 life. 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 183 
 
 All things and all events point us to, and are lead- 
 ing us towards, eternity . how we ahsorb in our 
 present sufferings and light afflictions, the thought 
 of the coming death — the coming grave — the com- 
 ing judgment — the coming heaven — the coming 
 hell ! Our sojourn here is but brief. We flit away 
 like the shadow across the sun-dial. We weep to- 
 day, we are wept for to-morrow. To-day we are 
 toiling, and fighting, and suffering ; and anon, if be- 
 lievers in Jesus, we are with him,, and " are come 
 unto Mount Sion, and unto the city of the living 
 God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumera- 
 ble company of angels, to the general assembly and 
 church of the first-born, wdio are written in heaven, 
 and to God the Judge of all, and to the spirits of 
 just men made perfect, and to Jesus the Mediator of 
 the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling, 
 that speaketh better things than that of Abel." 
 Then, let us " gird up the loins of our minds, be 
 sober, and hope to the end, for the grace that is to 
 be brought unto us at the revelation of Jesus 
 Christ." Christ will soon appear in the clouds of 
 heaven. " The coming of the Lord draweth nigh.''' 
 "The Lord is at hand.'' Let us hew out no more 
 cisterns of earthly good ; but following the stream 
 of the Lord's love — deepening and widening as it 
 ascends — let us rise to the fountain-head in glory, 
 having our conversation in heaven, and our aflfec- 
 tions on things above, where Christ sitteth — and 
 from whence he w^ill come again — at the right hand 
 of God. "Drink, yea drink abundantly, O be- 
 
184 BROKEN CISTERNS. 
 
 loved !" of this river, is your Lord's loving invita- 
 tion. You cannot take to it too many vessels, nor 
 vessels too empty. The precious " fountain opened 
 to the house of David, and to the inhabitants of 
 Jerasalem, is "for sin and uncleanness." Then, as 
 sinners, plunge into it, "wash and be clean." 
 Think not that you are alone in your grief at cis- 
 terns of creature-good thus broken. A ' cloud of 
 witnesses ' surrounds you, all testifying that the fled 
 joy of earth gives place to the fall and permanent 
 bliss of heaven ; that Jesus now turns his people's 
 sorrow into joy, by the sustaining power of faith, 
 and the sweet discoveries of love ; and that he will 
 perfect that joy when he brings them to drink of the 
 " pure river of water of life, clear as crj^stal, pro- 
 ceeding out of the throne of God, and of the 
 Lamb." May sanctified sorrow enable you to sing, 
 as one has done before you, — 
 
 " Saviour ! whose mercy, severe in its kindness, 
 lias chastened my wanderings, and guided my way, 
 Adored be the power which illumined my blindness, 
 And weaned me from phantoms that smiled to betray. 
 
 " Enchanted with all that was dazzling and fair, 
 I followed the rainbow — I caught at the toy, — 
 And still in displeasure, thy goodness was there, 
 Disappointing the hope, and defeating the joy. 
 
 *' The blossom blushed bright, but a worm was below; 
 The moonlight shone fair, — there was blight in the beam ; 
 Sweet whispered the breeze, but it whispered of woe ; 
 And bitterly flowed in the soft flowing stream. 
 
BROKEN CISTERNS. 18^ 
 
 " So cured of my folly, yet cured but in part, 
 I turned to the refuge thy pity displayed ; 
 And still did this eager and credulous heart 
 Weave visions of promise, that bloomed but to fade. 
 
 " I thought that the course of the pilgrim to heaven 
 Would be bright as the summer, and glad as the morn ; 
 Thou show'dst me the path — it was dark and uneven — 
 All rugged with rock, and all tangled with thorn. 
 
 " I dreamed of celestial rewards and renown ; 
 I grasped at the triumph which blesses the brave ; 
 I asked for the palm-branch, the robe, and the crown ; 
 I asked — and thou show'dst me a cross and a grave. 
 
 " Subdued and instructed, at length, to thy will. 
 My hopes and my longings I fain would resign ; 
 give me the heart that can wait and be still, 
 Nor know of a wish or a pleasure but thine ! 
 
 L" There are mansions exempted from sin and from woe. 
 But they stand in a region by mortals untrod : 
 There are rivers of joy, but they roll not below ; 
 There is rest, but it dwells in the presence of God." * 
 
 * Sir Kobert Grant. 
 
 16* 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS RELATION TO 
 NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 " Our lamps arc gone out." — Matt. xxv. 8. 
 
 It is a distinguishing feature of the word of God 
 that it is a record of stupendous and authenticated 
 facts — a revelation of great and glorious events, a 
 large portion of which yet remains to be fulfilled, 
 but which will as certainly be accomplished as that 
 God, whose Spirit in the prophets predicted them, 
 is true. To the contemplation of one of these great 
 transactions — the first in point of importance, and 
 the greatest in point of grandeur — the attention of 
 the reader will in this chapter be directed. The 
 coming of the Lord in glory and majesty, is the 
 event of unfulfilled prophecy — the central point of 
 hope to the Christian Church, and will be the signal 
 of terrible judgments upon nominal Christendom, 
 and the unbelieving world. Surely it becomes a 
 question with each individual, of the most serious 
 moment, " What part will be assigned to me in the 
 great transaction ? What will be my position, and 
 shall I be able to stand v>'hen he appeareth ?" The 
 reader will at once perceive that it is our present 
 
 (18G) 
 
THE COxMING OF THE LORD, EtC. 187 
 
 design to view this subject in its practical bearing 
 upon character, and more particularly in its solemn 
 relation to o. false profession of Christ, l^o statement 
 in God's word can possibly be clearer than that 
 which describes the Lord as finding, when he comes, 
 a portion of the professing church in a state of actual 
 unpreparedness for the event. They are not surprised 
 in a state of infidelity, or of atheism, or of open 
 and gross ungodliness, " eating and drinking with 
 the drunken," but in the assumed character of pro- 
 fessing Christians, mingling with the true church 
 of God, and dreaming — alas ! it is but a dream ! — 
 of an actual participation in the grace that is to be 
 brought unto the saints at the revelation of Jesus 
 Christ. Our Lord thus portrays their character and 
 describes their state at his appearing — "And at 
 midnight there was a cry made, Behold the bride- 
 groom Cometh; go ye out to meet him. Then all 
 those virgins arose, and trimmed their lamps. And 
 the foolish said unto the wise. Give us of your oil, 
 for our lamps are gone (or, are going) out." Let us, 
 in attempting a spiritual and a practical improve- 
 ment of these solemn and searching words, direct 
 our attention, first, to the great event to which they 
 refer; and then, to an analysis of the character 
 which they describe. 
 
 The event is none other than the second cominq 
 OF THE Lord. We are left to no speculation or 
 surmise as to the certainty of this event. IsTot more 
 clearly was the doctrine of the first advent one of 
 express revelation and distinct announcement, than 
 
188 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 is the doctrine of the second advent. It is a doctrine 
 of Scripture, and therefore to be studied and believed. 
 And never will the standard of spirituality in the 
 Christian church rise to its proper elevation, nor her 
 serried ranks present so formidable a front to her 
 foes, until she has been brought as fully to receive 
 and as joyfully to hail the one advent as she has 
 fully received and joyfully hailed the other. The 
 truth is, the discussions which have agitated and 
 divided the Christian church as to the mode of his 
 coming, have tended, we fear, to avert the eye of 
 the church from i\iQfact of the Lord's coming. And 
 thus, the blessed hope, the glorious appearing of 
 the great God our Saviour," which should have been 
 a truth uniting, strengthening, and sanctifying the 
 *' one body," has been lost sight of amidst the strife 
 of party and the conflict of opinion. But we will 
 endeavour to present to the believer's eye a scrip- 
 tural ghmpse of this great truth — a truth, than 
 which, none can be more earth-detaching and 
 heaven-attracting to a believing mind. "We have 
 already gone at some length into the Scripture 
 testimony to the doctrine of the second coming;* 
 but as it is possible that these pages may meet the 
 eye of some who have not given to this line of argu- 
 ment any lengthened attention, we will arrange a 
 few Scripture proofs under their proper heads, a 
 candid and prayerful examination of which must 
 lead to the conviction of the great truth which 
 they so clearly substantiate. The reader is re- 
 
 * " The Glory of the Redeemer in his Person and Work/' 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 189 
 
 quested, at his leisure, to turn to the passages in 
 his Bible. 
 
 The doctrine of the second coming of the Lord was 
 fully believed and ardently anticipated both by the Old 
 and New Testament saints. Jude 14 ; Job xix. 25, 
 27; Malachi iii. 1, 2; Dan. vii. 9, 10; John viii. 
 m ; Heb. xi. 13, 39, 40; Acts vii. 5 ; 1 Cor. i. 7, 8 ; 
 xi. 26 ; XV. 23 ; Phil. iii. 20, 21 ; 1 Thess. i. 10 ; ii. 
 19 ; iii. 13 ; iv. 13—17 ; v. 23 ; 2 Tim. iv. 8 ; Titus 
 ii. 13; Heb. ix. 28; 1 Pet. i, 7, 13; 1 John iii. 2; 
 Rev. xxii. 20. 
 
 Christ will come in the clouds of heaven. Dan. vii. 
 13, 14; Matt. xxiv. 30; xx\A. 64: Acts i. 9 — 11; 
 Pvev. i. 7. 
 
 Sis coming will be sudden and unexpected. Matt. 
 xxiv. 38, 39 ; xxv. 5, 6 ; Mark xiii. 34 — 36 ; Luke 
 xii. 39, 40: 1 Thess. v. 2, 3; 2 Peter iii. 10; Eev. 
 xvi. 15. 
 
 The gatliering together of the saints to meet the 
 Lord. Matt. xxiv. 30 ; Luke xvii. 34 — 36 : 1 Cor. 
 XV. 22, 23, 51, 52 ; Phil. iii. 20, 21 ; 1 Thess. iv. 16, 
 17 ; 2 Thess. ii. 1. 
 
 The trial of the Christian Church previouly to the 
 coming of the Lord. Dan. xii. 1 ; vii. . 21, 25 ; viii. 
 12, 24 ; Matt. xxiv. 21, 22 ; Eev. xi. 7 ; xiii. 7, 15, 
 17 ; xvii. 6 ; xviii. 24 ; Mai. iii. 2, 3. 
 
 The sealing of the saints in anticipation of this time 
 of trial. Ezek. ix. 3—6 ; Eev. vii. 3. 
 
 The saints will reign with Christ: Dan. vii. 18, 22, 
 27 ; Psalm xxxvii. 11 ; Matt. v. 5 ; Luke xxii. 29 ; 
 
190 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 1 Cor. vi. 2 ; 1 Thess. iii. 13 ; iv. 14 ; 2 Tim. ii. 12 ; 
 Eev. XX. 4 ; xxi. 1 — 3. 
 
 The iniquity of the earth will he full at the coming 
 of the Lord. Matt xxiv. 12—14 ; 2 Thess. ii. 3 — 
 10 ; 2 Tim. iii. 1—5 ; iv. 1—3 ; Jude IT, 18 ; Eev. 
 xiv. 19. See an analogy to this truth in the des- 
 truction of the wicked in the time of Koah. Gen. 
 vi. 11 — 13. And subsequently of the Amorites. 
 Gen. XV. 16. And then of the Jews. Matt, xxiii. 
 32, 33 ; 1 Thess. ii. 14—16. 
 
 The gathering together of the Jezvs, their restoration 
 to their own land, their conversion, and the judgment 
 of Crod upon their enemies. Deut. xxx. 1 — 9 ; Isa. 
 xi. 11, 12 ; Ix. to the end ; Ixv. 17 to the end ; Ixvi. 
 5 to the end ; Jer. iii. 14, 19 ; chapters xxx. xxxi. 
 xxxiii.; Ezek. xx. 33 — 38; xxviii. 25, 26; xxxvi. 
 xxxvii. xxxix. 25 — 28 ; xxxiv. 22 ; Jer. xxiii. 3 — 8 ; 
 Hos. iii. 4, 5; Amos ix. 14, 15; Zech. viii.; Luke i. 
 68, 72—75 ; ii. 32 ; xxi. 24 ; Matt, xxiii. 37 to the 
 end ; Zech. xii. xiv. 
 
 The coming of the 3Iessiah the signal of vengeance 
 upon his enemies. Isa. ii. 20, 21 ; xi. 4 ; xxvi. 21 ; 
 xxxiv. 1—8 ; Jer. xxiii. 19, 20 ; Ezek. ix. 5, 7 ; Joel 
 iii. 9—16 ; Mai. iv. 1 ; Zeph. i. 14 to end ; iii. 8 ; 2 
 Thess. i. 7—10 ; Jude 14—19 ; Eev. viii. 7—13 ; ix 
 xiv. 7 — 10 ; xvi. xviii. 
 
 The doctrine of the second coming of our Lord a 
 holy influential truth. A motive to godly sorrow, 
 Acts iii. 19 — 21. To holiness of life and divine 
 conformity, Matt. xvi. 27 ; 1 John ii. 28 ; iii. 2, 3 ; 
 Eev. xxii. To the mortification of sin in believers, 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 191 
 
 Col. iii. 4, 5 ; Titus ii. 11—13. To spirituality of 
 mind, Phil. iii. 20, 21. To watchfulness. Matt. xxiv. 
 42—44 ; XXV. 13; Luke xii. 35 — 37 ; 1 Thess. v. 4 
 — 6 ; Rev. xvi. 15. To patience and long-suffering, 
 Luke xviii. 7, 8 ; 2 Thess. i. 4—7 ; Ileb. x. 3G, 37 ; 
 James v. 7, 8 ; 1 Peter i. 6, 7 ; iv. 12, 13. To 
 moderation and sobriety, Phil. iv. 5 ; 1 Peter i. 13. 
 Against censorious judgment, 1 Cor. iv. 5. To 
 ministerial fidelity and diligence, Matt. xxiv. 45, 46; 
 1 Thess. ii. 19; 1 Tim. vi. 13, 14; 2 Tim. iv. 12. 
 To growth in grace and holiness, 2 Pet. iii. 11 — 14. 
 To the study of prophecy, Eev. xxii. 7.* 
 
 From this line of Scripture testimony to the 
 truth of the doctrine of our Lord's second appear- 
 ing, let us proceed to take a rapid glance at some 
 of its more interesting and prominent character- 
 istics. 
 
 The first point that strikes ns is, the long interval 
 which transpires previously to the accomplishment of 
 the event. But in this we see an illustration of the 
 wisdom and mercy which have ever been so conspi- 
 cuous in the Divine government. Immediately 
 after the apostle had announced the truth of the 
 Lord's coming, he found it necessary to guard the 
 individuals to whom he had written against the 
 idea of the Lord's immediate appearing, — an error 
 into which they had evidently fallen, — and which, 
 in a second letter, he thus corrects : *' Kow we 
 
 * Sec an excellent tract, " The Closing Scenes of the Present 
 Dispensation." 
 
102 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 beseech you, brethren, by the coming of our Lord 
 Jesus, and by our gathering together unto him, 
 that ye be not soon shaken in mind, nor be troubled 
 neither by spirit, nor by word, nor by letter as from 
 us, as that the day of Christ is at hand. 2 Thess. 
 ii. 1, 2. Thus it clearly appears that, so far from 
 the doctrine of tlie Lord's coming being a strange 
 and a novel idea to the early church, it was not only 
 an article of their belief, but it was the theme of 
 their joy, and the cherished object of their anticipa- 
 tion. The apostle, however, found it necessary to 
 check this ardent feeling of the early Christians, by 
 reminding them, that certain great events must 
 transpire, preparatory to the coming of the Lord. 
 He then proceeds to specify two in particular — a 
 season of great spiritual declension, and the 
 temporary ascendency of the papal power. "Let 
 no man deceive you by any means : for that day 
 will not come, except there come a falling away 
 first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of 
 perdition." 2 Thess. ii. 3. And is there nothing, 
 we earnestly ask, in the events which are now 
 transpiring, identical with these two remarkable 
 premonitions of the advent of the son of God? 
 Are there not a sad waning of spirituality, a declen- 
 sion of vital godliness, of heart-felt religion ? And 
 are there not also a painful defection from the doc- 
 trines of grace, and a revival of Popery in a form 
 the most specious and seductive, and therefore the 
 more alarming? Let the reader make himself 
 intelligently acquainted Vvdth tlic history of liis own 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 193 
 
 times, read, compare, and judge, and be found 
 prepared for the final issue. 
 
 We may regard the delay attendant upon the 
 second coming, in yet another and an interesting 
 point of view, namely, as illustrating the dispensa- 
 tion of mercy under which we live. As in the ante- 
 diluvian world, "the long-suffering of God waited 
 in the days of ISToah," thus affording to the impeni- 
 tent space for repentance ere the Lord came in the 
 terror of his judgment ; so, as it regards the coming 
 of the Son of Man, — the interval between the pre- 
 diction and its accomplishment, is an interval of 
 mercy to the ungodly and impenitent world. The 
 long-suffering of the Lord now waiteih, God has 
 ever shown himself slow in the execution of judg- 
 ment, but quick in the exercise of mercy. His wrath 
 has been wont to linger, as if reluctant to break 
 forth ; but his goodness has ever gone before us, as 
 if by anticipation, meeting and providing for our 
 need. The coming of the Lord, while it will con- 
 summate the blessed hope of the Church, will, to an 
 ungodly, infidel world, be the fearful signal of over- 
 whelming judgments. Hence the delay. Mercy 
 stays the uplifted arm of vengeance, and cries," 
 "Forbear!" The Lord '-'- ivaiteth to be gracious." 
 "I gave her space for repentance." The divine 
 banner is extended, an armistice is proclaimed, pro- 
 posals of peace are made, a plan of reconciliation 
 is announced — rebel sinners are urged to ground 
 their arms, and to submit to the government of God. 
 Yet, see how the scoffers requite this merciful delay ! 
 17 
 
194 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 *' There will come in the last days scoffers, walking 
 after their own lusts, and saying, Where is the pro- 
 mise of his coming? for since the fathers fell asleep, 
 all things continue as they were from the beginning 
 of the creation." "Because sentence against an 
 evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the 
 heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do 
 evil." But Christ will come : and " Who may 
 abide the day of his coming ? and who shall stand 
 when he appeareth !" Kot those who Svalk in the 
 counsel of the ungodly, and stand in the way of 
 sinners, and sit in the seat of the scornful.' They 
 ' shall be like the chaff which the wind driveth away ; 
 the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor 
 sinners in the congregation of the righteous. 
 
 But in what cliaracter, with especial relation to his 
 Church, will our Lord appear? It will be tw^ofold. 
 He will come, first, as a triumphant King. As a 
 victorious King, he is now enthroned in glory. 
 " Thou hast ascended on high ; thou hast led capti- 
 vity captive." He returned back to heaven as a 
 conqueror over sin, hell, and death, ^ever did a 
 Eoman victor return from the battle-field bearing 
 such spoil, nor amidst such glory and acclamation, 
 as that with which Jesus returned to his kingdom. 
 The Captain of our salvation had gotten him the 
 victory over every foe of his Church. He met and 
 battled, single-handed and alone, the combined hosts 
 of his enemies, and hers. And although he fell in 
 the conflict, he yet w^on the battle. He conquered 
 by submitting to conquest ; he overcame in being 
 overcome. He slew death in being slain by death. 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 195 
 
 Want you a coniirmation to your belief in the 
 essential Deity of 3^our coming Lord ? Behold it, 
 beloved. Where will you turn to the record of a 
 battle so strange, between combatants so opposite, 
 and attended by results so wondrous? That, in the 
 greatest weakness, our Lord should demonstrate his 
 greatest strength; that, by a decided defeat, he should 
 prove the victor ; and that, in succumbing to the 
 power and dominion of death, he should be the 
 death of death ! 01 1 ! how truly divine does he 
 appear ! Believer in Jesus ! the King, whose banner 
 weaves over you, has fought and won all your battles. 
 One with him, every believer is victorious. Treading 
 in his Lord's footsteps, he overcomes, even as he 
 overcame. It is impossible but that the weakest 
 believer must obtain the victory in the severe con- 
 flict which he is w^aging with the foe. He may at 
 times be foiled, embarrassed, and overcome, but he 
 will ultimately triumph. Vincimur in prselia, sed 
 non in hello. The battle may go against us, but not 
 the war. Faith realizing its union with the Lord, 
 obtains the victory. And never does the believer 
 go forth to face the enemy in the name of Jesus, but 
 with the disciples he may exclaim, "Lord, even the 
 devils are subject unto us through thy name." 
 Come, ye faint and exhausted warriors ! and refresh 
 your spirits and renew your strength with this 
 precious truth — your Captain is victorious ! He who 
 lives for you upon the throne — he who dwells in 
 you by his Spirit, is he who rose to glory with your 
 every foe chained in defeat and humiliation to his 
 
196 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 chariot, "carrjnng captivity captive." Do you still 
 hesitate to believe so great a truth ? Hark how his 
 angelic escort heralded his approach to glory ! 
 "Lift up your heads, ye gates, even lift them up, 
 ye everlasting doors ; and the King of glory shall 
 come in. Who is this Xing of glory ? The Lord 
 strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle." 
 
 " Hark, ten thousand harps and voices 
 Sound the note of praise above 1 
 Jesus reigns, and heaven rejoices : 
 
 Jesus reigns the God of love : 
 See, he fills yon azure throne ! 
 Jesus rules the world alone. 
 
 ** King of glory, reign for ever ! 
 Thine an everlasting crown : 
 Nothing from thy love shall sever 
 
 Those whom thou hast made thine own : 
 Happy objects of thy grace, 
 Destined to behold thy face. 
 
 " Saviour, hasten thine appearing ; 
 Bring, bring the glorious day 1 
 When the awful summons hearing, 
 
 Heaven and earth shall pass away, 
 Then with golden harps we'll sing. 
 Glory to our reigning King." 
 
 But our Lord, although a victorious, is not a 
 triumphant King, l^ov will he be, until he comes 
 the second time to receive his kingdom, and to 
 reign in undisputed and universal supremacy in the 
 bosom of a gathered church, and over a subdued 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 197 
 
 and renovated world. He will then appear " more 
 than a conqueror" — even triumphant. He is 
 represented as having, "after he had offered one 
 sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right 
 hand of God ; from henceforth expecting till his 
 enemies be made his footstool." What are we to 
 gather from this statement ? Much that is deeply 
 and gloriously significant. It describes the Re- 
 deemer in the interval between the victory and the 
 triumph — the victory which signalized his past 
 humiliation, and the triumph which will aggrandize 
 his coming glory. It defines his position of repose 
 and his attitude of expectation. It is impossible not 
 to perceive, in these remarkable words, a reference 
 to another and a final conflict — the issue of that 
 conflict being the crowning act of his glory. Are 
 his enemies yet his footstool ? Are all things yet 
 subdued under him ? Is the world subdued ? Is 
 sin subdued ? Is Anti-christ subdued ? Are the 
 powers of darkness subdued ? Is death subdued ? 
 ^o\ But they shall be. At what time? When 
 Christ "shall appear the second time without sin," 
 or a sin-offering, and therefore no more as a Priest 
 who is to die; "unto salvation" — and therefore as a 
 King who is to reign. "Then cometh the end, 
 when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to 
 God, even the Father ; when he shall have put down 
 all rule, and all authority, and power. For he must 
 reign, till he hath put all enemies under his feet. 
 Then, then will our Lord appear as a triumphant 
 King to your eye. Picture the scene ! Every foe 
 17* 
 
198 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 now falls before him. Death, the last enem}^ is 
 destroyed. All his enemies are " consumed with 
 the spirit of his mouth" — the universal diffusion of 
 his gospel, "and with the brightness of his coming" 
 — the kingly power of his advent. All Antichrists 
 retire — their imposture exposed, and their preten- 
 sions confounded — and Christ remains in triumph. 
 All earthly kingdoms are dissolved — their dominion 
 destroyed, and their glory passed away — and the 
 kingdom of Messiah fills the world. All principali- 
 ties and powers lay down their sovereignty at his 
 feet, and Immanuel triumphantly reigns, having on 
 his vesture and on his thigh a name written — " King 
 
 OF KINGS, AND LORD OF LORDS." 
 
 " He shall reign from pole to pole, 
 With illimitable sway ; 
 He shall reign, when, like a scroll, 
 Yonder heavens have passed away. 
 Man's last enemy shall fall, 
 Hallelujah, Christ in God, 
 God in Christ, is all in all." 
 
 But our Lord will appear in another character, — 
 one particularly endearing to his Church. He will 
 come as her Bridegroom. "Behold, the Bridegroom 
 cometh!" Jesus sustains no relation to his Church 
 more expressive than this. From all eternity he be- 
 trothed her to himself, and for ever. He asked her 
 at the hands of her Father, and the Father gave her 
 to him. He entered into a covenant that she should 
 be his. The conditions of that covenant were great, 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 199 
 
 but not too great for his love to undertake. They 
 were, that he should assume her nature, discharge 
 her legal obligations, endure her punishment, repair 
 her ruin, and bring her to glory. He undertook all, 
 and he accomplished all — because he loved her. 
 The love of Jesus to his Church is the love of the 
 most tender husband. It is single, constant, affec- 
 tionate, matchless, wonderful. He sympathizes with 
 her, nourishes her, provides for her, clothes her, 
 watches over, and indulges her with the most inti- 
 mate and endearing communion. ''Christ also 
 loved the church, and gave himself for it; that 
 he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of 
 water by the word ; that he might present it to him- 
 self a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle, 
 or any such thing ; but that it should be holy and 
 without blemish." Reader, know you what this 
 union with Jesus is ? Apart from its experience, 
 pride not yourself upon any other union. The dear- 
 est, choicest ties of human affection are but as brit- 
 tle glass. They are easily broken, and soon de- 
 stroyed. 1^0 union, but that which is with Jesus, 
 and in Jesus, extends bej^ond the grave. He must 
 share in every tie of creature love, if it be holy and 
 permanent. Think not that the union of holy hearts 
 is dissolved by death. O no ! — death does not sever, 
 death unites the sanctified. The bonds of the holy 
 are beyond his ruthless power to break. The love 
 which the image of Jesus, reflected in his people, in- 
 spires, is as deathless as the love of Jesus himself. 
 It is as immortal as their own redeemed, trans- 
 
200 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 formed, and glorified nature. And in reference to 
 a more divine and elevated sentiment than that 
 to which the poet refers, we apply his beautiful 
 words, — 
 
 " They sin who tell us love can die : 
 With life all other passions fly, — 
 All others are but vanity ; 
 
 But love is indestructible. 
 Its holy flame forever burneth ; 
 From heaven it came, to heaven returneth." 
 
 But the Lord Jesus will come in the clouds of 
 heaven, and this will be the occasion of his public 
 espousal of his Church. Her present union to him 
 is secret and unknown, — invisible to the world, and 
 often concealed to herself. But he will appear, 
 openly and visibly, to take her to himself; and be- 
 fore his Father and the holy angels, he will solemn- 
 ize her eternal union. O what a time of splendour 
 and of rejoicing will that be ! Arrayed in his nup- 
 tial robes, Jesus will descend to make her his own ; 
 and she, "prepared as a bride adorned for her hus- 
 band, will go forth to meet him." Then will be 
 heard the song of angels, — " Let us be glad and re- 
 joice, and give honour to him ; for the marriage of 
 the Lamb is come, and his wife hath made herself 
 ready." Yes! "blessed are they who are called 
 unto the marriage-supper of the Lamb." May the 
 writer and the reader, through grace, sit down to- 
 gether there ! 
 
 But there will be those whom the coming of the 
 Lord will surprise in a state of total unpreparedness. 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 201 
 
 Our allusion now is to nominal i^rofessors of Chriat. 
 To such the words of our Lord's parable unques- 
 tionably refer — That the "five foolish virgins" 
 were professors of the Gospel, cannot admit of a 
 doubt. They, too, like the true disciples of Jesus, 
 had their lamps. But they were lamps merely, and 
 nothing more. When the Bridegroom came, they 
 were found empty, without one particle of oil, and 
 the despairing cry was, — '' Our lamps are going 
 out !" But let us, with all solemnity, portray the 
 character. 
 
 In attempting to describe the case of a mere pro- 
 fessor of the Gospel, we will commence with his re- 
 ligious creed. Herein, we fear, lies his deepest self- 
 deception. He is, perhaps, a profound theologian, 
 is well schooled in the *five points' of divinity, is 
 an acute reasoner, a skilful debater, and an able and 
 vigilant defender of the outposts of Christianity. 
 He can subscribe fully to the Thirty-nine Articles, 
 to the Westminster Confession, and to the general 
 truths of revelation. He has no doubt of the di- 
 vinity of the Bible, his creed is well balanced, and 
 his general views of truth would be considered evan- 
 gelical and orthodox. And yet, thus far may he 
 proceed in the deepest self-deception. With all this 
 "form of knowledge," this lodgment of the truth 
 in the understanding, this subscription of the intel- 
 lect to the doctrines of revelation, he is an utter 
 stranger to that heart-transformation, that inward 
 illumination of the Holy Spirit, without which the 
 soul is spiritually dead, the heart is unrenewed and 
 
202 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 unholy, and the whole moral man is unfit for the 
 kingdom of heaven. In short, we have here the 
 case of one who, while his judgment assents to the 
 truth, his heart entirely rejects it. The Gospel is to 
 him a thing of intellectual subscription, and not of 
 heart experience. ISTot a single truth of the Bible 
 has become an element of life and holiness in his 
 soul. The word, in its letter, is an instrument of 
 light ; but not, in its spirit, is it an instrument of 
 quickening. With such deep-meaning declarations 
 as these, he is experimentally unacquainted : — " The 
 law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul : the 
 testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the sim- 
 ple." "Thy word hath quickened me." "Being 
 born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorrup- 
 tible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth 
 forever." "Of his own will begat he us, with the 
 word of truth." " Sanctify them through thy truth." 
 Thus far will the religion of intellect extend. The 
 grand point at which this religion rests short, is — 
 Regeneration, a word mighty in its import, al- 
 though entirely excluded from the theological vo- 
 cabulary of the man of mere intellectual subscrip- 
 tion to Divine truth. Yet, what a mighty doctrine 
 is this ! There it stands in the Bible, and it cannot 
 be erased. We tell the man proud of his ortho- 
 doxy, and boasting of his well-poised creed, — we tell 
 the man of sound philosophy, and of high intel- 
 lectual attainments, — that though he had the gift of 
 prophecy, and understood all mysteries and all 
 knowledge, yet without the regenerating grace of 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 203 
 
 the Holy Spirit, and supreme love to God, the light 
 within him is darkness, and that darkness is the cer- 
 tain prelude to the " blackness of darkness " of de- 
 spair. " Except a man be born of water and of 
 THE Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of 
 God." 
 
 Shall we describe him in his general conduct? 
 This, perhaps, is exemplary and commendable. As 
 a member of a Christian church, holding, it may be, 
 an office of distinction and responsibility, as a pa- 
 rent, as a master, as a citizen, men admire and com- 
 mend him. He is a zealous partizan, is the man of 
 societies, of committees, and of meetings. His name 
 may be found high upon the subscription list, and 
 appended to generous donations. He is a religious 
 patriot. He will devote his talents, his time, and his 
 wealth, to the erection of public sanctuaries, or to 
 the propagation of the Gospel, or in promoting va- 
 rious benevolent and popular enterprises. In the 
 more retired walks of domestic life, the same spe- 
 cies of religion may be seen. He will bend his knee 
 in family worship, catechise his children, instruct 
 his domestics, and seek to inculcate and exemplify 
 that which is lovely and of good report. 
 
 But follow this Christian professor into the world. 
 Is it evident that the great separation has taken 
 place? Is he there a witness for God? Ah, no! 
 He can mingle with the world, and be of the world, 
 and be as the world, and yet not misplace a single 
 fold of the silken robe with which his religion in- 
 vests him. He talks of its innocent recreations as 
 
204 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 Bources of higli and justifiable enjoyment. He can 
 devour the contents of a novel, or contemplate the 
 transactions of a play, with the same interest with 
 w^hich he bends over the pages of inspiration. The 
 dizzy mazes of the dance, and the voluptuous music 
 of the oratorio, and the delirious excitement of the 
 cup, are sources of enjoyment greater and more fre- 
 quent than the hallowed engagements of the sanc- 
 tuary. This is the man of mere religious profession. 
 Have I exaggerated the picture ? Ah, no ! I have 
 drawn from life. That there are innumerable cases 
 of false profession, not so glaring, or so strongly 
 marked, or so easy of detection and of analysis as 
 this, I readily admit. Instances, many, of an exter- 
 nal putting on of Christ, and of a very zealous en- 
 gagement in his service, and of apparent consistency 
 of walk, of much acquaintance with Scripture, and 
 fluency of religious phraseology, in which, neverthe- 
 less, the great separation of the man from his own 
 righteousness has never taken place — the convic- 
 tion of sin, never felt — brokenness of heart, never 
 experienced — faith in Jesus, never exercised — the 
 pardoning love of God, never realized — the pre- 
 ciousness and graciousness of the Lord, never tasted. 
 Even this may, by some, be thought too strong a 
 picture of self-deception. l!Tot stronger than that 
 which Jesus himself drew: — "N^ot every one that 
 saith unto me. Lord, Lord, shall enter into the 
 kingdom of heaven, but he that doeth the will of 
 my Father which is in heaven. Many shall say to 
 me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 205 
 
 in thy name, and in thy name have cast out devils, 
 and in thy name done many wonderful works? 
 And then will I profess unto them, I never knew 
 you ; depart from me, ye that work iniquity." 
 These are searching, solemn words ! Who can read 
 them with composure, without fixing his eye of faith 
 upon the cross of Jesus, exclaiming, as he looks, 
 " Sinners, of whom I am chief? Who has not, at 
 times, been overwhelmed with the self-agonizing 
 thought, "What, if I should be found at last to 
 have possessed nought but the empty lamp of a 
 Christian profession?" Happy are they whom the 
 searching inquiry may lead more entirely from 
 themselves, to look to Christ, to rest in Christ, to 
 walk in Christ, — in the truth of Christ, in the love 
 of Christ, and in the spirit of Christ ! 
 
 But the dim and flickering light which a mere 
 informed judgment, or which an external profession 
 gives, sooner or later is extinguished. A season of 
 2orosperity often proves fatal to a profession of godli- 
 ness. Divine Providence smiles, riches increase, 
 and with them the temptations and the snares, the 
 luxury, indulgence, and worldly show, which are 
 inseparable from the accumulation of unsanctified 
 and unconsecrated wealth. And what are the re- 
 sults ? In most cases, the entire relinquishment of 
 the outward garb of a religious costume. Found to 
 be in the way of the full indulgence of the carnal 
 mind, it is laid aside altogether; and thus freed from 
 all the restraints which consistency imposed, the 
 heart at once plunges deep into the world it all the 
 18 
 
206 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 while secretly loved, sighed for, and worshipped. 
 Oh ! what a severe, but true, test of religious prin- 
 ciple is this ! How soon it detects the spurious and 
 the false ! How soon does the verdure wither away ! 
 " The cares of this world, and the deceitfulness of 
 riches, choke the word, and it becometh unfruitful." 
 "The prosperity of fools shall destroy them." But 
 if a professing man passes through this trial, and 
 still retains his integrity — still walks closely and 
 humbly with God — still adheres to the lowly cross- 
 bearing path of Jesus — is still found as diligent in 
 waiting upon God in public and private means of 
 grace — is still as meek, condescending, and kind, 
 increasing in devotedness, liberality, and love, with 
 the increase of God's providential goodness around 
 him, such a man has the "root of the matter in 
 him;" and "he shall be like a tree planted by the 
 rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his 
 season; his leaf shall not wither; and whatsoever 
 he doeth shall prosper." His prosperity has not 
 destroyed him. 
 
 A time of adversity is often equally as fatal to a 
 profession of religion, founded upon no true Chris- 
 tian principle. If, in the smooth path, we are apt 
 to slide, in the rough path we may stumble. 
 Periods of great revolution in the historj^ of the 
 Christian Church, when God tries the principles, 
 the conscience, the love, and the faith of his people, 
 are test-periods. What numbers make shipwreck 
 then of their high profession ! And whe^ God 
 enters the pleasant garden of a man's domestic 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 207 
 
 blessings, and blows upon the lovely blossom, or 
 blights the fair flower, or severs the pleasant 
 bough, or scatters the hard-earned wealth of years, 
 or wastes the body's vigour, or frustrates the fond 
 scheme, how does an unrenewed man deport him- 
 self? Is his carriage humble, submissive, child- 
 like ? Does stern Christian principle now exhibit 
 itself, in beautiful contrast with the trial that has 
 called it forth? Does Divine grace, like the 
 aromatic flower, now appear the sweeter and the 
 lovelier for its being crushed? I^ay, does not 
 every feeling of the heart rise in maddened rebel- 
 lion against God and against his government? 
 Ah, yes! how accurately does Christ describe 
 his case! — ''he hath not root in himself, but 
 endureth for a while ; for when tribulation or per- 
 secution ariseth because of the word, by and by he 
 is oiFended." 
 
 It is impossible to blind the eyes to the truth, 
 that a time of trial, such as the Christian Church 
 has never yet experienced, is fast approaching. 
 Our Lord foretells it. " There shall be great tribula- 
 tion, such as was not from the beginning of the 
 world to this time, no, nor ever shall be. And 
 except those days should be shortened, there should 
 no flesh be saved: but for the elect's sake those 
 days shall be shortened." Daniel's "horn" is yet 
 to " make war with the saints, and prevail against 
 them until the Ancient of Days come, and judg- 
 ment is given to the saints of the Most High." To 
 this period of trial, just previously to the Lord's 
 
208 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 second coming, the same prophet again refers in 
 lan2:uao:e similar to Christ's. " At that time shall 
 Michael stand up, the great prince who standeth for 
 the children of thy people : and there shall be a 
 time of trouble, such as there never was since there 
 was a nation even to that same time." Dan. xii. 1. 
 Then will the Lord bring the principles of his 
 people to the touchstone of truth. Then will he 
 sift professors as corn is sifted, and the storm will 
 scatter the chaff of mere profession, while not a 
 grain of the true wheat shall fall to the ground. 
 The trial thus so clearly predicted, and so evidently 
 approaching, will be, not so much a trial of sepa- 
 rate branches of the Christian Church, as it wdll be 
 a trial of the whole body. It will be a battle for 
 the great essential truths of the gospel, held in 
 common by all, and in which general and severe 
 conflict, all the minor and indifferent things that 
 have so long divided and dismembered the church 
 of Christ, will be lost sight of and forgotten, — 
 merged in one great common cause, against one 
 great common foe. This period of trial, while it 
 thus will drive the sheep of the one fold more 
 closely together — now alas! so widely separated 
 and scattered — will be pre-eminently distinguished 
 for its development of truth. The occasion for its 
 investigation will be pecuharly favourable. It will 
 be a conflict for the truth. " What is truth, what 
 is the whole truth ?" will be the inquiry of every 
 lip. Christians will be placed in a better position, 
 and be surrounded by more favourable circumstau- 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 209 
 
 ces for its study. Truth has never so clearly and 
 powerfully developed itself, — its nature and its 
 energies,— as in periods of trial and of suffering. 
 What may be said of the growth of the believer \n 
 a personal knowledge of the truth, will, with equal 
 propriety-, apply to the advancement of truth in the 
 world. The time of trial makes the truth more 
 precious to the heart, and clear to the mind. The 
 affections entwine more closely around it then, and 
 the judgment more distinctly perceives its meaning 
 and its bearings. What believer has not learned 
 more of his Bible in a season of affliction than he 
 had ever learned before ? " It is good for me that 
 I have been afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes:' 
 Then let the dark cloud lower, and the tempest 
 that will shake the Church of Christ to its centre, 
 come, it will but develope the nature, and accele- 
 rate the advancement of the pure truth as it is in 
 Jesus. Men of different views, driven beneath the 
 same shelter by the common storm, finding them- 
 selves bending before the same mercy-seat, and 
 addressing their petitions to the same Father 
 dermng their consolation from the same source,' 
 and realising their oneness in the same Lord, all the 
 mists of prejudice and the congealings of coldness 
 now melted away, they will read, and examine 
 and compare together; and the happy result will 
 be,— a clearer unfolding of the mind of the 
 Spirit in the word, and a more perfect harmony 
 of judgment and of affection in those who are one 
 m the heart and mind of God. Then will the 
 18* 
 
210 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 truth, the divine, precious truth as it is in Jesus, 
 spread, replenishing this sorrowful earth with 
 gladness, and girding this dark globe as with a zone 
 of heavenly light. 
 
 There are two ^periods of awful solemnity, which 
 will be found utterly to extinguish the mere lamp 
 of a Christian profession. Will you follow me, 
 reader, to the dying bed of a false professor ? It is 
 an awful place ! It is an affecting spectacle ! No 
 hope of glory sheds its brightness around his pillow. 
 There is no anchor within the veil, to which the soul 
 now clings in its wrenchings from the body. N"o 
 Divine voice whispers, in cheering, soothing accents, 
 " Fear not, for I am with thee.' No hght is thrown 
 in upon the dark valley as its gate opens, and the 
 spirit enters. Coldness is on his brow, earth recedes, 
 eternity nears, the vaulted damps ascend and thicken 
 around the parting spirit, and the last wail of 
 despair breaks from the quivering lip, '' My lamp is 
 gone out! Withdrawing from this affecting scene, 
 let us in retirement read and ponder, w^ith an 
 earnestness and self-examination which we have 
 never done before, the appropriate warning of Jesus, 
 "Not every one that saith to me. Lord, Lord, shall 
 enter into the kingdom of heaven ; but he that doeth 
 the will of my Father which is in heaven. Many 
 will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not 
 prophesied in thy name ; and in th}^ name have cast 
 out devils ; and in thy name done mau}^ wonderful 
 works ? And then will I profess unto them, I never 
 knew you ; depart from me, ye that work iniquity. 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 211 
 
 Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, 
 and doeth them, I will Hken him unto a wise man, 
 wliieh built Ms house upon a rock: and the rain 
 descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, 
 and beat upon that house, and it fell not ; for it was 
 founded upon a rock. And every one that heareth 
 these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be 
 likened unto a foolish man, which huilt his house 
 upon the sand: and the rain descended, and the 
 floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon 
 that house, and it fell ; and great was the fall of it." 
 And so will it be when the Son of Man cometh. 
 This great event will fix unchangeably the destiny 
 of each individual of the human race. It will break 
 like the loud artillery of heaven upon a slumberino- 
 church, and a careless world. It will find the true 
 saints with " oil in their vessels with their lamps," 
 though in an unwatchful state. It will come upon 
 the nominal professor, grasping firmly his lamp of 
 profession, but utterly destitute of the oil of 
 grace, and in a state of as little expectation of, as 
 preparedness for, the advent of the Lord. And it 
 will overtake and surprise the ungodly world, as the 
 flood did in the days of Noah, and the fire in the 
 days of Lot — "they were eating and drinking, 
 marrying and giving in marriage, they bought, 
 they sold, they planted, they builded, until the day 
 that 'Noah entered into the ark, and until the same 
 day that Lot went out of Sodom." "Even thus 
 shall it be in the day when the Son of Man is 
 revealed." The true saints will arouse from their 
 
212 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 slumber, — the spirit of slothfalness and lethargy 
 into which they had fallen, — and, trimming their 
 lamps by a fresh exercise of faith in Jesus, will go 
 forth as the "children of the light," to welcome 
 their approaching Lord. False professors, too, 
 startled by the cry which breaks upon the awful 
 stillness of midnight, — solemn as the archangel's 
 trumpet, — will eagerly feel for their lamps, — their 
 evidences of acceptance based upon an outward 
 profession of the gospel, — when lo ! to their surprise 
 and consternation, they find themselves destitute of 
 one drop of oil with which to feed the flickering, 
 waning flame, and they exclaim in despair, " Our 
 lamps are going out!" And now the intellectual 
 light goes out, and the moral light goes out, and the 
 professing hght goes out, and the official light goes 
 out ; and while they have fled to human sources to 
 procure the grace they needed, — their backs being 
 thus then turned upon Christ, — the "Bridegroom 
 comes ; and they that are readi/ go in with him to 
 the marriage, and the door is shut." They return 
 with what they suppose the needed evidences, but 
 710W they learn — that they should have learned it 
 too late! — that to have had a professing name to 
 live — to have outwardly put on Christ by baptism 
 — to have united externally with the church of God 
 — to have partaken of the Lord's Supper — to have 
 promoted his truth, and to have furthered his cause 
 
 to have preached his Gospel, and even to have 
 
 won converts to the faith, will avail nothing — alone 
 and apart from union to Jesus by the Spirit, obtain- 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 213 
 
 ing admittance to the marriage supper of the Lamb, 
 " Afterward came also the other virgins, sayiog, 
 Lord, Lord, open to us. But he answered and said, 
 Verily I say unto you, I know you not." In view 
 of such a catastrophe, O how poor, contemptible, 
 and insignificant, appears everything, however 
 splendid in intellect, beautiful in morals, or costly 
 in sacrifice, save the humble consciousness of havins: 
 Christ in the heart the hope of glory ! 
 
 But there are those, whose lamps of Christian 
 profession will not go out when the Lord appear- 
 eth. They are his own chosen, redeemed, and 
 called people. Their light, by reason of manifold 
 infirmities, may often have burned but dimly 
 through life ; but there is vital religion in the soul 
 — the golden, precious oil of grace, flowing from 
 Jesus into their hearts. And this can never be 
 extinguished. Many were the hostile influences 
 against which their weak grace had to contend; 
 many were the trials of their feeble faith, but the 
 light never quite went out. The waves of sorrow 
 threatened to extinguish it ; the floods of inbred 
 evil threatened to extinguish it ; the cold blasts of 
 adversity threatened to extinguish it ; and the stum- 
 bling of the walk, and the inconstancy of the 
 heart, and the declension of the soul, often, for a 
 while, weakened and obscured it ; but there it is, 
 living, burning, and brightening, as inextinguish- 
 able and as deathless as the source from whence it 
 came. The grace of God in the heart is as imper- 
 ishable, and the life of God in the soul is as 
 
\ 
 214 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 immortal, as God himself. That light of knowledge 
 enkindled in the mind, and of love glowing in the 
 heart, and of holiness shining in the life, will burn 
 in the upper temple in increasing efi'ulgence and 
 glory through eternity. The divine light of Chris- 
 tian profession, which holy grief for sin has 
 enkindled, which love to God has enkindled, 
 which the inbeing of the Holy Spirit has enkin- 
 dled, will outlive and outshine the sun in the firm- 
 ament of heaven. That sun shall he extinguished, 
 those stars shall fall, and that moon shall be turned 
 into blood, but the feeblest spark of grace in the 
 soul shall live for ever. The Lord watches his own 
 work with sleepless vigilance. "When the vessel is 
 exhausted, he stands by and replenishes it ; when 
 the light burns dimly, he is near to revive it ; when 
 the cold winds blow rudely, and the rough waves 
 swell high, he is riding upon those winds, and 
 walking upon those waves, to protect this the 
 spark of his own kindling. The light that is in 
 you, is light flowing from Jesus, the " Fountain of 
 light." And can an infinite fountain be exhausted." 
 When the Sun is extinguished, then all the 
 lesser lights, deriving their faint effulgence from 
 him, will be extinguished too, — but not until then. 
 Who is it that has often fanned the smoking flax ? 
 Even He who will never quench the faintest spark 
 of living light in the soul. " Thou wilt light my 
 candle." And if the Lord hght it, what power 
 can put it out ? Is not his love the sunshine of thy 
 soul? Is he not himself thy morning star? Is 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 215 
 
 it not in his light that you see light, even the 
 "light of the glory of God, in the ftice of Jesus 
 Christ?" 0, then, ''Arise and shine, for thy 
 light is come, and the glory of the Lord is risen 
 upon thee ! " 
 
 Of this holy and encouraging subject, — the 
 imperishable nature of true grace, — let us take yet 
 another view. And let it be remembered by the 
 reader, that I am now referring especially to the 
 weakest degree of grace ever found in a gracious 
 soul — ^^a^ grace can7iot die. The divine life of a 
 believer, from its very necessity, is deathless. The 
 life of Adam was never so secure, even when he 
 lifted his noble brow in spotlessness to God. The 
 new life is more secure in a state of imperfection, 
 than his was in a state of innocence. He stood in 
 his own righteousness, upheld by his own power, 
 and yet he fell. But w^e are more secure, because 
 we stand in the righteousness, and are kept by the 
 power, of God. His life was hidden in himself; 
 our life is hidden in Christ, and is as secure in 
 Christ, as Christ's is in God. It is truly remarked 
 by Charnock, that "Adam had no reserve of nature 
 to supply nature upon any defect;" but out of 
 Christ's fulness we receive grace upon grace. How 
 much more ready are we to complain against this 
 small measure of grace, than to praise God for the 
 weakest grace, and to thank Him for an inexhausti- 
 ble source, on which we may at all times fall back ! 
 The believer ever has a reserve of grace. His 
 resources may often be exhausted, but he has a 
 
216 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 stock in Christ's hand, and which, for the wisest 
 end, is kept solely in Christ's hands, upon which he 
 is privileged at any moment to draw. Well is it that 
 that supply of grace is not all in our hands, else it 
 would soon be wasted ; and well is it that it is not 
 in angels' hands, else they would soon be weary 
 with our continual coming. But the covenant was 
 made with Christ, he being the Mediator as well as 
 the Surety ; and in him it pleased the Father that 
 all fulness should dwell. Thus, in his hands the 
 Father has intrusted the keeping of his weakest 
 child, even thy soul, beloved, though thou art the 
 weakest of the weak. An infant as much belongs 
 to the family as the most matured member. Its 
 place in the parent's heart is as strong, and its 
 claim upon its share of the patrimony is as valid. 
 So is it with the feeblest child of God. 
 
 And most faithfully does our Lord Jesus discharge 
 his office. Is the church a garden ? Jesus repairs 
 early to the vineyard, to see "whether the tender 
 grapes appear, and the pomegranates hud.'' Is it a 
 flock ? Jesus "feeds his flock like a shepherd : he 
 gathers the lamhs with his arm, and carries them in 
 his bosom." Can any imagery more aftectingly set 
 forth the tenderness of Christ towards weak grace 
 — the weak lamb carried, not on the shoulders, not 
 in the arms, but in the bosom of the Shepherd ? Yes, 
 there is one image, the most expressive and tender 
 in the universe of imagery — a mother's love for her 
 iiifant. Does God compare His love to this ? 
 Hearken to liis words : " Can a woman foro;et her 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 217 
 
 Slicking child, that she should not have compassion 
 on the son of her womb ? Yea, they may forget, 
 yet will I not forget thee." O that you would, in 
 the simplicity of faith, press this precious truth to 
 your trembling, doubting, fearful heart! ^N'othing 
 does the Holy Spirit seem to take such pains in 
 comforting and strengthening, as real grace in its 
 greatest weakness. Would he indulge our weak faith 
 and our limited measure of grace ? no ! But while 
 he would have us sue for the highest degrees, he 
 would 5^et watch over the lowest degree of grace in 
 the soul. Remember, too, that the weakest grace 
 has a throne of grace to supply it, and the God of 
 grace to delight in it, and the Mediator of grace to 
 influence it, and the Spirit of grace to brood upon 
 it. Though our grace be weak, yet the grace of all 
 these is sufficient to preserve us. The weakest 
 grace in Christ's hand shall stand, w^hen the strong- 
 est nature without his guard shall fall. ' Tis not 
 not our hold of Christ so much preserves us, as 
 Christ's hold of us ; though the faith we hang by 
 be a weak thread, yet Christ hath a strong hand. 
 Had you the grace of a glorified saint, you could 
 not maintain it without his help ; and that is suffi- 
 cient to conduct through the greatest storms into the 
 safe harbour. The * preserved in Christ,' is the 
 happy title of those who are "sanctified by God the 
 Father." 
 
 But while I speak thus, it is in my heart, beloved, 
 to urge you to aim after more than the glimmering 
 light; in other words, to seek larger degrees of 
 19 
 
218 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 grace. Let your standard be the loftiest, and your 
 aim the highest. Place no limit to that which God 
 has not limited. Never cease expecting, until He 
 ceases giving. If you are satisfied with your present 
 measure of grace, a worse sign you could not have. 
 To be content with being stationary in the divine 
 life, places you in a doubtful position. It is an 
 essential property of grace that it grows ; it is the 
 immortal seed of God, and must, from its very 
 nature, germinate. If your faith does not increase, 
 your doubts will increase ; and if your grace does 
 not strengthen, your fears will strengthen. Fill the 
 measure with pure wheat, as one has said, and there 
 will be no room for chaff. Aim after elevated 
 principles if you desire elevated practice. Low 
 principles inevitably lead to low practice. Watch 
 against that which tends to impair the vigour of 
 your grace. "Watch against your most easy besetting 
 sins — your greatest infirmities — your strongest 
 temptations. Beware of your own heart — beware 
 of self-confidence — beware of creature idolatry — 
 beware of the world. Beware, too, of any neglect 
 of the means of grace. ITothing will more tend to 
 keep your grace at a low ebb than this. God has 
 appointed His channels of conveyance. They are 
 the ministry of the word, and the reading of the 
 word, prayer and praise, meditation, ordinances, and 
 Christian communion, &c. Beware that you do not 
 despise any one of them. A neglected sanctuary — 
 a forsaken throne of grace — an unread Bible — will 
 soon bring leanness into your soul. The priests 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CJIRISTIANITY. 219 
 
 under the law were to bring fresh fuel to the altar, 
 morning and evening, for the nourishment of the 
 holy fire. " The fire shall ever bo burning upon 
 the altar; it shall never go out." It is thus God 
 keeps alive the holy fire on the altar of our hearts 
 in the use of His own appointed means. lie has as 
 much ordained the means of grace, as He has 
 promised the grace of the means. You will invari- 
 ably find that grace languishes with duty. If we 
 are listless in duty, we shall soon become lifeless in 
 duty. Therefore let us thirst after God, as the 
 hunted hart panteth for the water-brook. Especially 
 draw largely by fixith on Jesus. He is the great 
 Reservoir from whence all the conduits are supplied. 
 All means of grace are just what Jesus makes them. 
 Behold, then, the coming of the Lord in its sol- 
 emn relation to a nominal profession of Christianity. 
 In a land where the institutions and the ordinances 
 of religion are so strictly and so properly observed ; 
 where religious training from infancy, and the habit 
 of an early connexion with the visible church, and 
 the consequent observance of the Lord's Supper is 
 expected and enjoined, are such marked character- 
 istics, would it be overstepping the bounds of pro- 
 priety and delicacy, if, in view of this solemn event, 
 we press upon the professing reader the importance 
 of close self-examination, and of trial by the word 
 of God, touching the great change, apart from 
 which, the most splendid Christian profession will 
 but resemble the purple robes and the fine linen 
 with which Dives moved, in grandeur and in state, 
 
220 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 to the torments of the lost. Professors of rehgion ! 
 Church communicants ! — ofiice bearers ! — have 3^ou 
 the root of the matter in you ? Have you Christ in 
 you ? Are you temples of the Holy Spirit ? Are 
 you walking humbly with God ? Are you born from 
 above ? Rest not short of the great change — the 
 heavenly, the divine birth. Place no reliance upon 
 your external relation to the church of God. Be 
 not deceived by a false semblance of conversion. 
 You may go far, as we have shown, in a Christian 
 profession, and even may live to see the Lord come 
 in the air, and yet have not one drop of oil in your 
 vessel with your lamp. Have you sometimes trem- 
 bled under the powerful exhibition of the truth ? so 
 did Felix, and yet he never truly repented ! Have 
 you heard the Gospel gladly, and under its momen- 
 tary influence, have done many things ? so did 
 Herod, and yet he kept Herodias, and beheaded 
 John ! Do you show much apparent zeal for the 
 Lord ! so did Jehu, but it was zeal for himself! Are 
 you the associate and the companion of good and 
 holy men ? so was Demas, and yet he loved this 
 present evil world ! Have you been united to the 
 church upon a profession of faith and by baptism ? 
 so was Simon 3Iagus, and yet he was in the gall of 
 bitterness and in the bond of iniquity! Do you de- 
 sire to die the death of the righteous? so did Balaam^ 
 and yet he died as the fool dieth ! O look well to 
 your religion ! Take nothing for granted. Think 
 less of burnishing thy "lamp," than of having a 
 large supply of oil, that when the Lord sendeth or 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 221 
 
 cometh, you may not be found in darkness, not 
 knowing whither you go ! Without converting grace 
 in your heart, your church relation is but the union 
 of a dead branch to a living stem ; and your partak- 
 ing of the Lord's Supper, an " eating and drinking 
 of the Lord's body and blood, (as symbolically rep- 
 resented therein,) unworthily." Receive in love 
 these faithful admonitions, penned by one whose 
 only hope, as the chief of sinners, is in the finished 
 w^ork of Immanuel, and let them take you to 
 
 PRAYER — to the WORD — tO ChRIST. 
 
 " The coming of the Lord draweth nigh." If the 
 apostle, in his day, could thus exhort the saints, how 
 much stronger reason have we for believiDg that 
 "the Lord is at hand!'' Every movement in the 
 providential government of God, indicates the near 
 approach of great events. The signs of the times 
 are significant and portentous. The abounding pro- 
 fession of Christianity — the advancement of human 
 science — the increase of the papal power — the spirit 
 of despotism^ of infidelity, and of superstition, these 
 three master principles at this moment expanding 
 through Europe, and struggling each with the 
 otliers, and all with the gospel, for supremacy — and 
 the extraordinary movements now going forward in 
 reference to the return of the Jews — are heralding 
 the approaching chariot of the Kings of kings. 
 The Church of God will yet pass through severe 
 trials — '' many shall be purified, and made white, 
 and tried ;" nevertheless Jesus lives, and Jesus shall 
 reign, and the church shall reign ivith Jesus. Let 
 19* 
 
222 THE COMING OF THE LORD IN ITS 
 
 the thought of his coming be an influential theme 
 of meditation and joy, of hope and action. The 
 present is the suffering state of the Church. It is 
 through much tribulation that she is to enter the 
 kingdom prepared for her by her coming Lord. But, 
 amidst the sorrows of the pilgrimage, the perils of 
 the desert, the conflicts of the field, the blasphe- 
 mies, the taunts, and the persecutions of the world, 
 the pangs of disease, and the wastings of decay, we 
 will have our "conversation in heaven, from whence 
 also w^e look for the Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 who will change our vile body, that it may be 
 fashioned like unto his glorious bod}^, according 
 to the working whereby he is able even to subdue 
 all things unto himself." He, "whom not having 
 seen we love," will soon appear, and then he will 
 chase away every sorrow, and dry up every tear, 
 and annihilate every corruption, and perfect us in 
 THE BEAUTIES OF HOLINESS. Then there w^ill be no 
 more rising of inw^ard corruption, no more exposure 
 to temptation, no more solicitations of evil, and no 
 more wounding of the bosom upon which we 
 recline. The heart will be perfectly in love ; and 
 the mind, developing its faculties, enlarging its 
 knowledge, and yielding up itself to those " intel- 
 lectual revelations, to that everlasting sun-light 
 of the soul," which all will enjoy who love, and 
 long for, Christ's appearing, — will merge itself in 
 the light and glory and holiness of the Eternal 
 Mind. O that the reign of Christ may be first 
 by his grace in our hearts, then we may indeed 
 
RELATION TO NOMINAL CHRISTIANITY. 223 
 
 expect to reign with him in glory ! The cross 
 below, is the onli/ path to the throne above. The 
 crucifixion now, the glo7'7/ then. The sceptre in 
 our hearts here, the crown upon our heads here- 
 after. Precious Jesus ! hasten thy coming ! We 
 love thee, we serve thee, we long for thee, we look 
 for thee. Come, and perfect us in thy likeness ! 
 
 " Oh ! loved, but not enough — though dearer far, 
 Than self and its most loved enjoyments are 
 None duly loves thee, but who, nobly free 
 From sensual objects, finds his all in thee. 
 
 ** Glorious Almighty, First, and without end, 
 When wilt Thou melt the mountains and descend ? 
 AVhen wilt Thou shoot abroad thy conquering rays, 
 And teach these atoms thou hast formed, thy praise ? 
 
 " My reason, all my faculties unite 
 To make thy glory their supreme delight; 
 Forbid it, Fountain of my brightest days, 
 That I should rob thee, and usurp thy praise ? 
 
 "My soul ! rest happy in thy low estate. 
 Nor hope, nor wish to be esteemed or great ; 
 To take the impression of the will divine, 
 Be that thy glory and those riches thine ! 
 
 "Confess him righteous in his just decrees, 
 Love ivliat lie loves, and let his pleasure please ; 
 Die daily — from the touch of sin recede ; 
 Then thou hast crowned Him, and he reigns indeed !^'* 
 
 * M. GuioN. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST OF CHRISTIAN 
 CHARACTER. 
 
 **We know that we have passed from death unto life, because we lovo 
 the brethren." — 1 John iii. 14. 
 
 Surely it is a question of all others the most 
 interesting and important, "Am I, or am I not, a 
 true believer in the Lord Jesus Christ?" We do 
 not say that the state of doubt and uncertainty 
 from which this inquiry arises, necessarily invali- 
 dates the evidence of grace which already exists : 
 nor would we have it inferred that the question it- 
 self indicates a health}^, vigorous tone of mind. 
 But what we affirm is, that where there exists the 
 principle of life, and a growing acquaintance with 
 the plague of a human heart, and a conscience 
 increasingly tender, the question will sometimes 
 arise — "Am I a living soul in Christ?" In enabling 
 us to meet and satisfy this inquiry, how kind and 
 condescending is God, the Holy Ghost! A state 
 of uncertainty as to his personal salvation, cannot 
 be regarded by the believer as the most favourable 
 for the cultivation of personal holiness. He, 
 indeed, is the most heavenly-minded, happy, and 
 useful child of God, who, with the lowly confidence 
 
 (224) 
 
225 
 
 of the great apostle, can saj^, " I hnoiv in whom I 
 have believed." But we must admire the love of 
 the Spirit in providing for the necessities of the 
 weakest state of grace. If saints of advanced 
 stature in Christ can sympathize but little with the 
 timidit}', the fearfulness, and the weakness of child- 
 ren of more dwarfish proportions, not so the loving, 
 faithful Spirit of God. He is never above his own 
 work. The smallest part is too precious to his 
 heart, to allow of the withdrawment of his eye 
 from it for a single moment. It is not the extent 
 of the territory which he has subjugated to himself 
 in the soul, that most thrills his heart with delight 
 —this he is sure to perfect — but it is his having at 
 all eifected an entrance, and established himself 
 permanently there. Tliis is the ground of his 
 greatest triumph, and the source of his highest 
 joy, — that after all the opposition and the diffi- 
 culty, he should at last have gotten himself the 
 victory. Is it possible, then, that the tenderest bud 
 of grace, or the faintest glimmering of light in the 
 soul, can be a matter of indifference to him ? Ah 
 no ! Would Titian have despised a painting, upon 
 whose outline he had stamped the impress of his 
 genius, because its penciUings were not complete ? 
 "Would Canova have destroyed his sculpture, almost 
 breathing with life, because its chisellings were 
 unfinished ? And will the Holy Spirit, in drawing 
 the moral likeness of God upon the soul, in model- 
 ling the mind for heaven, slight this, his master- 
 piece of wisdom and of power, because of its 
 
226 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 present incompleteness ? No ! The faintest out- 
 line of the divine image, the roughest shaping of 
 the divine nature in man, presents to his eye 
 more beauty, and symmetry, and finish, than, tlie 
 finest pencillings of nature, or the most perfect 
 modellings of art. The universe of loveliness and 
 of wonder contains nothing that can compare 
 with it. 
 
 Thus, rejoicing in his own w^ork, he has placed 
 before us, in the words which we have quoted, an 
 evidence of Christian character, in the existence of 
 Christian love. We do not say that it is the strong- 
 est attestation which might be given ; nay, it may 
 be considered, by some, the weakest; and yet 
 multitudes have met death with composure and 
 have gone to glory in peace, the Holy Spirit com- 
 forting their hearts by tJns sweet and lowly evidence 
 — love to the brethren. '' "VVe hnoiv that w^e have 
 passed from death unto life, because we love the 
 brethren." But before we enter fully upon our 
 main subject, viz.. Christian love, evidencing the 
 reality of Christian character — it may be profitable 
 first, to consider the character itself, and then the 
 existence and the operation of love as attesting its 
 truth. 
 
 It is a state of transformation. The condition 
 from which the renewed man passes, is that of 
 DEATH. This was his Adamic, or natural state. 
 The sinner is by law dead ; the curse is upon him, 
 and condemnation awaits him. Nay, he is now 
 condemned. " He that believeth not, is condemned 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 227 
 
 already.'" As in a state of grace, heaven is com- 
 menced below, so in a state of nature, hell is com- 
 menced below. Grace is the beginning of glory, 
 and nature is the beginning of condemnation. The 
 one has in it the element of eternal happiness; the 
 other has in it the element of eternal woe. " Dead 
 in trespasses and in sins," is the a\vful sentence 
 written at this moment upon your brow. There is 
 nothing in the history of that which is affecting 
 and awful that will compare with it, but the condi- 
 tion itself of the finally lost. Indeed, the two states 
 may be regarded almost as identical. The sinner 
 is by law dead. He is under the curse of God, and 
 is shut up to its condemnation, awaiting only the 
 period of its final and eternal infliction. ISTay, his 
 condemnation has, in a measure, already commenc- 
 ed. " He that believeth not, is condemned already.'' 
 Listen to it, ye unconverted men and women ! Let 
 the words, as they fall from the lips of Him into 
 whose hands all judgment is committed, sink down 
 into your ears like the knell of death. " He that 
 believeth not is condemned already." Your condi- 
 tion has been tried, the verdict has been given, the 
 sentence has been pronounced, and nothing remains 
 but the — doom ! The mournful preparation for 
 its accomplishment is made. But one step, and 
 you have passed beyond the reach of mercy, into 
 the hands of your tormentors. Hark ! heard you 
 that sound ? It has come from the invisible world. 
 It is the great bell of eternity tolling the death of 
 lost souls. Soon it will toll for you, if angels do 
 
228 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 not celebrate your heavenly birth. O think of 
 passing from the death that is temporal, to the 
 death that is eternal ! — from the flames that might 
 now be quenched, to the flames that are unquench- 
 able. Kise and pray that God may not gather 
 your soul with sinners, but that, numbered with 
 those who shall have part in the first resurrection, 
 upon you the second death may have no power. 
 
 But the believer in Jesus is one who has " passed 
 from death unto life.'' Having somewhat touched 
 upon this subject in the preceding pages, we will 
 only seize upon a few of the more prominent cha- 
 racteristics illustrative of this renewed state. The 
 Spirit of God has breathed into him the breath of 
 life, and he has become a living soul. But, if pos- 
 sible, there is a yet stronger light in which we may 
 view this change. The renewed man is a living 
 soul, in consequence of his union with the life of 
 Christ. We too little ti^ace the life which is in us to 
 the life which is in Jesus. The Spirit himself could 
 not be our life apart from our union to Christ. It 
 is not so much the work of the Spirit to give us life, 
 as to quicken in us the life of Christ. The Apostle 
 thus briefly but emphatically states it, — " Christ, 
 who is our life." Hence we see the relation and 
 the fitness of the second Adam to the church of 
 God. In consequence of our federal union to the 
 first Adam, we became the subjects of death, — he 
 being emphatically our death. And in consequence 
 of our covenant union to the second Adam, we be- 
 come the subjects of life, — he being emphatically 
 
OF CHRISTfAN CHARACTER. 229 
 
 "owr life.'' Hence it is said, " The second Adam is 
 a quickening spirit." The headship of Christ, in 
 reference to the Hfe of his people, is written as with 
 the point of a diamond in the following passages : 
 — "In him was life;" "The Son quickeneth whom 
 he will;" "The dead shall hear the voice of the 
 Son of God, and they that hear shall live ;" "I am 
 the resurrection and the life : he that believeth in 
 me, though he were dead, yet shall he live;" " He 
 that eateth me, even he shall live by me;" "I am 
 the life." Now this life that is in Christ becomes 
 the life of the believer in consequence of his union 
 with Christ. "Ye are dead, and your life is hidden 
 ivitli Christ in God;" "I am crucified with Christ, 
 nevertheless I live ; yet not I, but Christ liveth in 
 me." And what is the crowning act of Christ as 
 the life of his people? What but his resurrection 
 from the dead? "We are risen with Christ;" "Ye 
 are also risen with him ;" " That I may know the 
 power of his resurrection." This doctrine of the 
 Lord's resurrection is the pivot upon whicli the 
 w^hole system of Christianity hinges. He is risen, 
 and in virtue of this his people are partakers of a 
 resurrection life to eternal glory. It is utterly im- 
 possible that they can perish, for they have already 
 the resurrection life in their souls. Their own 
 resurrection to everlasting life is pledged, secured, 
 antedated, in consequence of the risen Christ being in 
 them the hope of glorj-. Thus is Christ the 
 life of his people. He is the life of their imr- 
 doUy — all their iniquities are put away by his 
 20 
 
230 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 blood. He is the life of their justification; — 
 his righteousness gives them acceptance with 
 God. He is the life of their sanctification ; — 
 his grace subdues the power of the sins, the guilt of 
 which his blood removes. He is the life of their 
 joys, of their hopes, of their ordinances ; the life of 
 everything that makes this life sweet, and the life 
 to come glorious. 
 
 But what an amazing truth is this ! We see into 
 what a new and holy life the believing sinner has 
 passed. Quitting for ever the low life of sense, he 
 now enters on the exalted life w^hich every believer 
 leads — the life of faith on the Son of God. He has 
 now learned to lean upon Jesus, his righteousness 
 and his strength, his consolation and his support. 
 He is happy in sorrow, joyful in tribulation, strong 
 in weakness, as by faith he leans upon Christ. 
 What a life, too, is the life of communion with God, 
 springing from his life of oneness with Christ ! The 
 believer now holds communion with essential life, 
 with essential holiness, with essential love. The 
 holy breathing of his soul is the fellowship of Christ 
 below, with the Father above. It is the one life in 
 heaven and on earth. What is player to you, my 
 reader? Is it co?mnunionf is it fellowship P Does 
 God meet you, and open His heart to you ? Are 
 you ever sensible that you have, as it were, attract- 
 ed His eye, and possessed yourself of His ear ? Is 
 prayer the element in winch your soul lives ? Do 
 you make every circumstance of life an occasion of 
 prayer ? As soon as sorrow comes, do you take it 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 231 
 
 to the Lord's heart ? As soon as burdening care 
 comes, do you take it to the Lord's arm ? As soon 
 as conscience is beclouded, do you take it to the 
 Lord's blood? As soon as the inward corruption 
 arises, do you take it to the Lord's grace ? This, 
 beloved, is the life of faith. Mistake not the nature 
 of pra}^. True prayer is never more eloquent and 
 prevailing than when breathed forth in real desires, 
 and earnest longings, and groans that cannot be 
 uttered. Sighs, and words, and tears, flowing from 
 a lowly, contrite heart, have a voice more powerful 
 and persuasive than the most eloquent diction that 
 ever clothed the lips of man. to be led by the 
 Spirit more perfectly into a knowledge of the nature 
 and the power of prayer ! for this is the grand evi- 
 dence of our spiritual life. 
 
 This life of the renewed soul, springing from the 
 indwelling of Christ by the Spirit, includes the 
 crucifixion of self in us. "I live, yet not J." What 
 a depth of meaning is contained in these words ! 
 We may not in this life be able fully to measure its 
 depth, but we may in some degree fathom it. There 
 is not, — indeed there cannot be, a more sure 
 evidence of the life of Christ in the soul, than the 
 mortifying of that carnal, corrupt, self-boasting that 
 is within us. For its utter annihilation in this 
 present time-state, we do not plead. This would be 
 to look for that which the word of God nowhere 
 warrants. But we insist upon its mortification ; we 
 plead for its subjection to Christ. Who has not 
 detected in his heart its insidious working ? If the 
 
232 cnmsTiAN love, a test 
 
 Lord lias given us a little success in our work, or 
 put upon us a little more honour than upon another, 
 or has imparted to us a degree more of gift or grace, 
 O what fools do we often make of ourselves in con- 
 sequence ! We profess to speak of what he has done 
 —of the progress of his work,— of the operation of 
 his grace, when, alas ! what burning of incense often 
 is there, to that hideous idol self! Thus, we offer 
 ' strange lire' upon the altar. But the most gracious 
 soul is the most self-denying, self-crucifying, self- 
 annihilating soul. "I live, yet not I. I believe, 
 and am comforted, — yet not /. I pray, and am 
 answered, — yet not I. I preach, and sinners are 
 converted, — yet not I. I labour, and good is done, 
 — yet not 1. I fight, and overcome, — yet not J, but 
 Christ liveth in me.'' Beloved, the renewed life in 
 us will be ever striving for the mastery of self in us. 
 Self is ever striving to take the glory from Jesus. 
 This is one cause of the weakness of our faith. 
 " How can ye believe,'' says the Saviour, " who receive 
 honour one from another, and seek not the honour 
 w^hich cometh from God only?" "AYe know but 
 little of God," remarks an eminently holy man, "if 
 we do not sicken when w^e hear our own praise. 
 And if we have kept the glory of God in view, 
 rather than our own, remember, it is the gift of God, 
 the work of his Spirit, which has gained a victory 
 over self, through faith in Christ."* O that the 
 life of Christ w^ithin us may more and more manifest 
 itself as a self-denying, self-mortifying, self-annihi- 
 
 * Ilowels. 
 
OP CHRISTIAN CHARACTER, 233 
 
 lating life— willing to be fools for Christ, yea, to be 
 nothing, that Christ may wear the crown, and God 
 be all in all. 
 
 And remember that there will be a correspondence 
 between the life of Christ in the soul, and the life 
 which Christ lived when he tabernacled in the flesh. 
 We have before remarked, that the inbeing of Christ 
 in the believer is a kind of second incarnation of 
 the Son of God. When Christ enters the heart of 
 a poor sinner, he once more clothes himself with our 
 nature. The life which Christ lived in the days of 
 his sojourn on earth, was a life of sorrow, of conflict, 
 of temptation, of desertion, of want, and of suflTering 
 in every form. Does he now live a different life in 
 the believer ? :N'ay ; he is still tempted, and deserted, 
 and in sorrow, and in want, and in humiliation, and 
 in suffering — in his people. What ! did you think 
 that these fiery darts were levelled at you? Did 
 you suppose that it was you who were deserted, that 
 it was yoic who suflTered, that it was you who was 
 despised, that it was you who was trodden under 
 foot ? ;N'o, my brother, it was Christ dwelling in you. 
 All the malignity of Satan, and all the power of 
 sin, and all the contempt of the world, are levelled, 
 not against you, but against the Lord dwelling in 
 you. Were it all death in your soul, all darkness, 
 and sinfulness, and worldliness, you would be an 
 entire stranger to these exercises of the renewed 
 man. Behold the love and condescension of Jesus ! 
 that after all that he endured in his own person, he 
 should again submit himself to the same in the 
 20* 
 
234 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 jDerson of his saints ; that he should as it were, 
 return, and tread again the path of suffering, and 
 of trial, and of humiliation, in the life which each 
 believer lives. how it speaks that love which 
 surpasseth knowledge ! How completely is Christ 
 one with his saints ! And yet, how feebly and 
 faintly do we believe this truth ! How little do we 
 recognise Christ in all that relates to us ! and yet he 
 is in all things. H-e is in every providence that 
 brightens or that darkens upon our path. " Christ 
 is all, and in all." 
 
 The unearthliness of this life is a feature that must 
 not be overlooked. It is a divine and spiritual, and 
 therefore an unearthly life. Its principles are 
 unearthly, its actings are unearthly, its aspirations 
 are unearthly, its pleasures are unearthly, its enjoy- 
 ments are unearthly, its employments arc unearthly, 
 its aims are unearthly. It mixes not, it cannot mix, 
 with earth. Most true it is, that that life which the 
 believer hves is ^' in the flesh," but it is not of the 
 flesh, nor after the flesh, and cannot coalesce luith 
 the flesh. The flesh may often deaden, and weaken, 
 and becloud, and depress, and chain it down, but, 
 like the needle of the compass, the moment it 
 obtains its freedom, it turns to God again. what 
 a heavenly life is this ! What a marvel that it should 
 be found, like a precious pearl, in the midst of so 
 much darkness, and pollution, and deadness, and 
 earthliness ! Who but God could maintain a life so 
 immortal, in the midst of so much deadlinesSp — a 
 life so holy, in the midst of so much impurity, — a 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CUARACTER. 235 
 
 life so heavenly, ia the midst of so much earthliiiess ? 
 And yet so it is. 
 
 But may there be a personal persuasion of our 
 possession of this divine life ? The Apostle answers 
 this inquiry in the affirmative, when he says, " We 
 know^ that we have passed from death unto life.'' 
 For it is a thing of whose possession the believer 
 may be assured. He can speak of its possession 
 with holy boldness, and with humble confidence. 
 The life of God in the soul authenticates itself. It 
 brings with it its own evidence. Is it possible tliat 
 a behever can be a subject of the quickening grace 
 of the Holy Spirit, and not know it ? Possess union 
 with Christ, and not know it? the pardon of sin, and 
 not know it? communion with God, and not know 
 it? breathing after holiness, and not know it? 
 Impossible I The life of God in the soul evidences 
 itself by its actings. Are you sensible of your sin- 
 fulness ? do you love the atoning blood ? is Jesus 
 precious to your soul ? do you delight in God, and 
 in retirement for communion with Him ? Then, for 
 your encouragement we remind you, that these are 
 not the actings of a soul lying in a state of moral 
 death, nor are these the productions of a soul still 
 unregenerate. They proceed from the indwelling 
 life of God, and are the ascendings of that life to 
 God, the Fountain from whence it flows. Thus the 
 weakest believer in Jesus may humbly explain, 
 "This one thmg I know, that whereas I was blind, 
 now I see." He knows that he has passed from death 
 unto life. 
 
236 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 The Holy Spirit is also a witness to the reality of 
 this great change. "The Spirit himself beareth 
 witness with our spirit that we are the children of 
 God," The mode of his testimony is in character 
 with the fact which he authenticates. E"© voice is 
 heard, no vision is seen, nothing tangible is felt, no 
 law of our being is suspended ; but by a silent and 
 concealed, yet effectual, operation, he witnesses to 
 the great fact of our having ''passed from death 
 unto life." He it is who breathes the cry of ''Abba, 
 Father," in the heart — who sprinkles the reconciUng 
 blood upon the conscience — who guides the eye of 
 faith to the cross — and who, by thus testifying of 
 the death of Jesus to the soul, testifies to the love 
 of Jesus in the soul. From the cross of Immanuel, 
 he brings a Hood of heavenly light, and sheds it 
 upon his own regenerating work, proving its reality, 
 and discovering its glories. Beautiful, holy, and 
 perfect, as is the work of the Spirit in the soul, yet 
 not a line is revealed until Jesus shines upon it. 
 Then^ how glorious does it appear ! 
 
 But have all the saints of God alike this clear 
 personal assurance ? and is its possession essential 
 to true faith ? We are far from asserting this. We 
 do indeed think that every regenerate soul must be 
 sensible of a transformation of mind, of character, 
 and of habit. He must acknowledge that by the 
 grace of God he is what he once was not. To what 
 can he ascribe this change but to the second birth ? 
 But even this secret persuasion may be connected 
 with many harassing yea?'s and distressing doubts. 
 
OP CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 237 
 
 The constant discovery of the hidden evil, the 
 perpetual tendency to remove the eye from Jesus, 
 the dark and the painful often experienced in the 
 dealings of God, will at times prompt the believer 
 to question the reality of his life. " With all this," 
 he inquires, " can I be a child of God?" And yet 
 the most holy saints have been the most doubting 
 and fearful saints. David, for example, who had 
 more testimonies of God's favour than any man, 
 yet, as one says, he was at a loss sometimes to spell 
 his evidences. And that holy man Rutherford 
 remarks, " I have questioned whether or not I ever 
 knew anything of Christianity, save the letters 
 which make up the word." But doubting faith is 
 not doubtful faith. If the believer has not the faith 
 of assurance, he may have the faith of reliance, and 
 that will take him to heaven. All the doubts and 
 fears that ever harassed a child of God cannot erase 
 his name from the Lamb's book of life, nor take 
 him out of the heart of God, nor shut him out of 
 glory. " Unbelief," says Eutherford, " may, perhaps, 
 tear the copies of the covenant which Christ hath 
 given you ; but he still keeps the original in heaven 
 with himself. Your doubts and fears are no parts 
 of the covenant; neither can they change Christ." 
 "The doubts and fears of the elect," remarks 
 another, '^ are overruled by almighty grace to their 
 present and eternal good ; as conducing to keep us 
 humble at God's footstool, to endear the merits of 
 Jesus, and to make us feel our weakness and depend- 
 ence, and to render us watchful unto prayer." Did 
 
238 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 ever an unregenerate, lifeless soul entertain a doubt 
 or fear of its spiritual condition ? E^ever. Was it 
 ever known anxiously and prayerfully to question, 
 or to reason about its eternal state ? I^ever. Do I 
 seek to strengthen your doubts ? ISTo ; but I wish 
 to strengthen your tried and doubting faith. I would 
 tell you for your encouragement, that the minutest 
 particle of grace hath eternal glory in it, even as 
 the smallest seed virtually contains all that proceeds 
 from it, — the blade, the ear, and the full corn in the 
 ear. Faint not, nor be discouraged in your trial of 
 faith. There is not a sweeter way to heaven than 
 along the path of free grace, paved with hard trials. 
 It was the way which he trod who was "full of 
 grace." Rich though he was in grace, yet see how 
 deeply he was tried. Think not, then, that your 
 sore trials are signs of a graceless state. no ! 
 The most gracious saints have been the most tried 
 saints. But rest not here. There is still richer, 
 surer comfort for you — even the fulness of grace 
 that is in Jesus — grace overflowing, and yet ever 
 full. Disclose to him your doubts and fears. Tell 
 him you desire him above all good. Plunge into 
 the sea of his fulness ; and he who has created in 
 your soul a thirst for grace, will assuredly and 
 bountifully give you the grace for which you thirst. 
 But there is one test — a gentle, sweet, and holy 
 test — by which the most timid and doubting child 
 of God may decide the genuineness of his Christian 
 character : the evidence to which we allude is, love 
 to the saints. " By this we know that we have passed 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 239 
 
 from death unto life, because we love the breth- 
 ren." The grace which is here singled, is the 
 sweetest and the loveliest of all the graces. It is the 
 product of the Holy Spirit, it flows from the heart 
 of God, and it, more than all others, assimilates the 
 heart to the nature of God, for " God is loveJ* 
 Without love, what is the actual value of all intel- 
 lectual endowments, acquisitions of knowledge, un- 
 derstanding of mysteries, or even the achievements 
 of faith ? But small indeed. " Though I speak 
 with the tongues of men and of angels, and have 
 not love, {ayoL'K'r]) I am become as sounding brass, or 
 a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of 
 prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all 
 knowledge ; and though I have all faith, so that I 
 could remove mountains, and have not love, I am 
 nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to 
 feed the poor^ and though I give my body to be 
 burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing." 
 1 Cor. xiii. 1-3. There is no truth more distinctly 
 littered, or more emphatically stated than this — the 
 infinite superiority of love to gifts. And in pon- 
 dering their relative position and value, let it be re- 
 membered, that the gifts which are here placed in 
 competition w^ith grace, are the highest spiritual 
 gifts. Thus does the apostle allude to them : " God 
 hath set some in the Church, first apostles, secondly 
 prophets, thirdly teachers, after that miracles, then 
 gifts of healing." And then follows his expressive 
 declaration, — " Though I speak with the tongues of 
 men and of angels, and have not love, I am liecome 
 
240 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal." In other 
 v/ords, " Though I were an apostle, having apos- 
 tolic gifts ; or, though I were a prophet, possessed 
 of prophetic gifts; or, though I were an angel, 
 clothed with angelic gifts, yet, destitute of the grace 
 of love^ my religion were but as an empty sound, 
 nothing worth." Is there in all this any undervalu- 
 ing of the spiritual gifts which the great exalted 
 Head of the Church has bestowed upon his minis- 
 ters ? Far from it. The apostle speaks of tlie way 
 of spiritual gifts as excellent, but of the way of the 
 grace of love as a ^^more excellent." Gifts may be 
 possessed separate from love — but existing alone, 
 they cannot bring the soul to heaven. And love 
 may exist apart from gifts, but where love is found, 
 even alone, there is that sweet, excellent grace that 
 will assuredl}^ conduct its possessor to glory. " Grace 
 embellished with gifts is the more beautiful ; but 
 gifts without grace, are only a richer spoil for 
 Satan." 
 
 And why this superiority of the grace of love ? 
 Why is it so excellent, so great and so distinguished ? 
 Because God's love in the soul is a part of God 
 himself — for, ^' God is love." It is, as it were, a drop 
 of the essence of God falling into the heart of man. 
 "He that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God, and God 
 in Jiim.^^ This grace of love is implanted in the 
 soul at the period of its generation. The new crea- 
 tion is the restoration of the soul to God, the expul- 
 sion from the heart of the principle of enmity, and 
 the flowinc: back of its affections to their orio^inal 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 241 
 
 centre. "Every one that lovetli is born of God." 
 Is it again asked wiiy the love of His saints is so 
 costly in God's eye? Because it is a small fraction 
 of the infinite love which He bears towards them. 
 Does God delight himself in His love to His Church? 
 Has He set so high a value upon it as to give His 
 own Son to die for it ? Then, whenever he meets 
 with the smallest degree of that love, He must es- 
 teem it more lovely, more costly, and more rare, 
 than all the most splendid gifts that ever adorned 
 the soul. "We love him because he first loved us." 
 Here, then, is that grace in the soul of man which 
 more than all others assimilates him to God. It 
 comes from God, and it raises the soul to God, and 
 it makes the soul like God. How encouradns:, then, 
 to know the value which the Lord puts upon our 
 poor returns of love to him ! Of gifts we may have 
 none, and even of love but little, yet of that little, 
 who can unfold God's estimate of its preciousness ? 
 He looks upon it as a little picture of Himself He 
 sees in it a reflection — dim and imperfect indeed — 
 of His own image. And as He gazes upon it, He 
 seems to say — "Thy parts, my child, are humble, 
 and thy gifts are few : thy knowledge is scant}', and 
 thy tongue is stammering; thou canst not speak for 
 me, nor pray to me in public, by reason of the lit- 
 tleness of thy attainments and the greatness of 
 thine infirmity ; but thou dost love me, my child, and 
 in that love wdiich I behold, I see my nature, I see 
 my heart, I see my image, I see myself; and that is 
 more precious to me than all besides. Most costly 
 21 
 
242 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 to Him also are all your labours of love, and obedi- 
 ence of love, and sacrifices of love, and offerings of 
 love, and sufferings of love. Yea, w^hatever blade, 
 or bud, or flower, or fruit grows upon the stalk of 
 love, it is most lovely, and precious, and fragrant 
 to God. 
 
 But there is another point of light which still 
 more strongly presents to view the superior 
 excellence and preciousness of the grace of love. 
 We allude to the manifested love of the saints to one 
 another. The apostle presents this as a true test of 
 Christian character. He does not say, as he in 
 truth might have said, "We know that we have 
 passed from death unto life, because we love Grod;'" 
 but placing the reality of this wondrous translation 
 upon a lower evidence, the Holy Spirit, by the 
 inspired writer, descends to the weakest exhibition 
 of the grace which his own power had wrought, 
 when he says, " We know that we have passed 
 from death unto life, because we love the brethren.'' 
 Thus, so costly in God's eye would appear this 
 heaven-born, heaven-like grace, that even the 
 faint and imperfect manifestation of it by one 
 saint to another, shall constitute a valid evidence of 
 his relation to God, and of his heirship to life 
 eternal. Our blessed Lord, w^ho is beautifully said 
 to have been an incarnation of love, places the 
 evidence of Christian discipleship on precisely the 
 same ground. "By this shall all men know that ye 
 are my disciples, if ye leave love one to another. " He 
 might justly have concentrated all their affection 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 243 
 
 upon himself, and thus have made their sole and 
 supreme attachment to Him the only test of their 
 discipleship. But no ! In the exercise of that 
 boundless benevolence which was never happy but 
 as it was planning and promoting the happiness of 
 others, he bids them "love one another," and con- 
 descends to accept of this as evidencing to the 
 world, their oneness and love to himself We are 
 at length conducted to the consideration of the sub- 
 ject to which this chapter more specifically invites 
 our attention — Christian love, a test of christian 
 
 CHARACTER. 
 
 The aflection under consideration, let it be re- 
 marked, transcends all similar emotions embraced 
 under the same general term. There is a natural 
 affection, and a human affection, and a denomina- 
 tional affection, which often binds in the sweetest 
 and closest union those who are of the same family, 
 or of the same congregation, or who assimilate in 
 mind, in temper, in taste, or in circumstance. But 
 the aflection of which we now speak, is of a higher 
 order than this. ~We can find no parallel to it, not 
 even in the pure, benevolent bosoms of angels, 
 until, passing through the ranks of all created 
 intelligences, we rise to God Himself There, and 
 there alone, we meet the counterpart of Christian 
 love. Believer, the love for which we plead is love 
 to the brethren — love to them as brethren. The 
 church of God is one family, of which Christ is the 
 Elder Brother, and " all are members one of an- 
 other." It is bound by a moral tie the most spiri- 
 
244 
 
 tual, it bears a family likeness the most perfect, and 
 it has a common interest in one hope, the most 
 sublime. No clime, nor colour, nor sect, affects 
 the relationship. Meet you one from the opposite 
 hemisphere of the globe, having the image of 
 Christ, manifesting the fruits of the Spirit; who in 
 his walk and conversation is aiming to cultivate 
 the heavenly dispositions and holy habits of the 
 Gospel, and who is identifying himself wath the 
 cause of God and of truth, and you meet with a 
 member of the one family, a brother in the Lord, 
 one who calls your Father his Father, your Lord 
 his Lord, and one, too, who has a higher claim 
 upon your aflection and your sympathy than the 
 closest and the tenderest natural relation that life 
 can command. 
 
 But it is proper that we explain more explicitly, 
 in what the true unity of the church of God 
 consists. The words of her Great Head shall be 
 our sole authority and guide. " That they all may 
 be one ; as thou. Father, art in me, and I in thee, 
 that they also may be one in us." We commence 
 with a declaration of a great truth, that the unity 
 of the church of God, as set forth in this remark- 
 able passage, is, her unity in the Triune God. Her 
 unity in herself is the effect of a cause. She is one 
 bodily, because she is spiritually and essentially one 
 in Jehovah. The words, "■ One in us," convey the 
 strongest idea, and afford the clearest evidence of 
 her essential and individual unit}^ of any that 
 exists. AVe commence with God t\\e Father — she 
 
OP CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 245 
 
 is one in Him. The apostle clearly states this in 
 the Epistle to the Ephesians. " One God and Father 
 of all, who is above all, and through all, and in you 
 alV All who? — the one cliurch of God. One 
 covenant God and Father unites the one family in 
 heaven and in earth. They are one in His choice, 
 one in His purpose, one in His covenant, one in 
 His heart. The same will chose them — the same 
 affection loved them — the same decree predestinated 
 them ; the}^ are one in Him. Blessed truth ! One 
 God and Father." Behold them clusterino: tosrether 
 around the mercy seat — they come from various 
 parts of the world, they speak different languages, 
 they express opposite feelings, they unfold various 
 wants and sorrows — yet listen! they all address 
 Him as, "Our Father.'' Every heart bows in love 
 to Him — every heart is fixed in faith upon Him, 
 and every tongue breathes the lofty, and endearing, 
 and holy name of, "Abba, Father." There, in 
 the glowing light amidst which the throne of mercy 
 stands, all sectarian feeling dies, all denominational 
 distinction is lost, and Christians of every name 
 meet, and embrace, and love as brethren. Holy 
 thought ! One God loves all and protects all ; one 
 Father pities all, supphes all, bears with all, and, 
 with an impartial affection, binds all together and 
 alike in his heart. 
 
 The church is also one in the Son, — " There is 
 one Lord." The Lord Jesus is the one Head, as he 
 is the one Foundation of the Church. All believ- 
 ers are chosen in Christ, blessed in Christ, saved in 
 21 * 
 
246 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TKST 
 
 Christ, preserved in Christ, and in Christ will be 
 glorified. The work of Christ is the one resting- 
 place of their souls. They rely for pardon upon the 
 same blood, for acceptance upon the same right- 
 eousness, and for sanctification upon the same 
 grace. One in Christ, all other differences and 
 distinctions are merged and forgotten. '•^ There is 
 neither Jew nor Greek ; there is neither bond nor 
 free ; there is neither male nor female, for ye are 
 ALL ONE IN Christ Jesus." Blessed truth ! The 
 "righteousness of God, which is unto all and upon 
 all them that believe," imparts the same complete- 
 ness to all believers in Christ. Upon the breast- 
 plate of the great High Priest, now within the veil, 
 every name is alike written — not a sectarian appel- 
 lation dims the lustre of the '' Urim and the Thum- 
 mim in whose glowing light the names of all the saints 
 are alike enshrined. What a uniting truth is this ! 
 Jesus is the one Head of life, light, and love, to all 
 his saints. He carries the transgression of all — he 
 bore the curse of all — he endured the hell of all — 
 he pardons the sin of all — he supplies the need of 
 all — he soothes the sorrows of all — and he lives and 
 intercedes for all. To him all alike repair, — it is 
 true, w^ith different degrees of knowledge and of 
 faith, and from different points; yet to Jesus, 
 as to one Saviour, one Brother, one Lord, they all 
 alike come. Oh ! what a cementing principle is 
 this! The body of Christ — the purchase of the 
 same blood, loved with the same affection, and in 
 heaven represented by the same Advocate, and 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 247 
 
 soon, O how soon, to be "glorified together with 
 him!" What love, then, ought I to bear towards 
 him whom Jesus has so loved ! How can I feel 
 coldly to, or look unkindly at, or speak uncharitably 
 of, one whom Jesus has redeemed with the same 
 precious blood, and whom he carries each moment 
 in the same loving heart. 
 
 The Church of God, too, is equally 07ie in the 
 Holy Spirit. " By one Spirit are we all baptized 
 into one body, whether we be Jews or Gentiles, 
 whether we be bond or free; and have been all 
 made to drink into one Spirit." With what in- 
 creasing glory does this great truth unfold itself! 
 We seem to be brought to the climax of the 
 argument here. One Spirit regenerating all, 
 fashioning all, teaching all, sealing all, comforting 
 all, and dwelling in all. Degrees of grace, and 
 "diversities of gifts" there are, "but the same 
 Spirit.'' That same Spirit making all believers 
 partakers of the same Divine nature, and then 
 taking up his abode in each,' must necessarily 
 assimilate them in evcr}^ essential quality, and 
 feature, and attribute of the Christian character. 
 Thus the unity of the Church is an essential and a 
 hidden unit3\ With all the differences of opinion 
 and the varieties of ceremonial, and the mul- 
 tiplicity of sects into which she is broken and 
 divided, and which tend greatly to impair her 
 strength, and shade her beauty, she is yet essentially 
 and indivisibly one — her unity consisting, not in 
 a uniformity of judgment, but, better far than this, 
 
248 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 in the "unity of the Spirit.'" Thus, no individual 
 believer can with truth say, that he possesses the 
 Spirit excUisively, boasting himself of what other 
 saints have not ; nor can any one section of the 
 Christian Church lay claim to its being the only 
 true Church, and that salvation is found only 
 within its pale. These lofty pretensions, these 
 exclusive claims, this vain-glory and unchari- 
 tableness, are all demolished by one lightning 
 touch of truth, even by that blessed declaration, 
 " For by one Spirit are we all baptized into one 
 
 BODY." 
 
 Behold, then, the threefold cord which unites the 
 family of God. The ever blessed and glorious 
 Trinity dwelleth in the Church, and the Church 
 dwelleth in the blessed Trinity. Who can divide 
 this body from itself, or separate it from God? 
 Having thus endeavoured to show in what the 
 unity of the Church of God really consists, we 
 proceed to the subject more especially before us — 
 the manifestation of this unity by believers, and 
 the evidence which it affords, and the consequent 
 assurance which it imparts, of their personal 
 relationship to God. " We know that w^e have 
 passed from death unto life, because we love the 
 brethren.'' 
 
 The feeling here referred to is a love to the 
 saints, as saints. Whatever natural infirmities we 
 may discover in them, whatever different shades of 
 opinion they may hold from us, and to whatever 
 branch of the Christian Church they may belong, 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER 2-19 
 
 yet the feeling which is to establish our own divine 
 relationship, is a love to them as brethren. Irre- 
 spective of all dissonance of creed, of denomination, 
 of gifts, of attainment, of rank, of wealth, of 
 nation, — when we meet in a Christian professor the 
 image of Christ, the family-likeness, our love will 
 prompt us immediately to recognise that individual 
 as a behever in Jesus, and to acknowledge him as 
 a brother in the Lord. And what are the grounds 
 of my aftection ? I may esteem his character, and 
 prize his gifts, — may admire his talents, and feel 
 there is an assimilation of disposition, of taste, and 
 of judgment, — but my Christian love springs from 
 an infinitely higher and holier source. I love him 
 because his Father is in him, and because the Son 
 is in him, and because the Holy Spirit is in him. I 
 love him because he is an adopted child of the 
 same family, a member of Christ, and the same 
 body, and a temple of the same Holy Spirit. I love 
 him that is begotten, because I love him that begat. 
 It is Christ in one believer, going out after himself 
 in another believer. It is the Holy Spirit in one 
 temple, holding fellowship with himself in another 
 temple. And from hence it is that we gather the 
 evidence of our having " passed from death unto 
 life." " He that loveth him that begat, loveth him 
 also that is begotten." Loving the Divine Original, 
 w^e love the human copy, however imperfect the 
 resemblance. The Spirit of God dwelling in the 
 regenerate soul, yearns after the image of Jesus, 
 wherever it is found. It pauses not to inquire, to 
 
250 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 what branch of the Christian Church the individual 
 resembhng him belongs ; that with which it has to 
 do is the resemblance itself. ]^ow, if we discover, 
 this going out of the heart in sweet, and holy, and 
 prayerful affection towards every believer in Christ, 
 — be his denominational name what it may, the 
 most to those who most bear the Saviour's image, 
 then have we the Spirit of Christ dwelling in us. 
 A surer evidence we cannot have. There is the 
 affection which surmounts all the separating walls 
 of partition in the Church, and in spite of sects, 
 and parties, and creeds, demonstrates its own divine 
 nature and heavenly birth, by its blending with the 
 same affection glowing in the bosom of another. 
 And where this love to the brethren exists not at 
 all, in any Christian professor, we ask that individ- 
 ual, with all the tenderness of affection consistent 
 with stern faithfulness, where is the evidence of 
 your union with the body of Christ ? You have 
 turned away with contractedness of heart, and with 
 frigidity of manner, if not with secret disdain, 
 from one whom God loves, whom Christ has 
 redeemed, and in whom the Holy Ghost dwells, 
 because he belonged not to your sect. Yea, you 
 have turned away with coolness and suspicion from 
 Christ himself? How canyon love the Father and 
 hate the child ? What affection have you for the 
 Elder Brother, while you despise the younger? 
 And if you are a living branch of the same Vine, 
 can you, while cherishing those feelings which 
 exclude from your affection, from your sympathies, 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 251 
 
 and from your fellowship, other Christians, more 
 deeply wound Jesus, or more effectually grieve 
 the Holy Spirit of God, hy whom they are " sealed 
 unto the day of redemption ?" Perhaps, my 
 brother, you have long walked in darkness and 
 uncertainty as to the fact of your own personal 
 adoption into the family of God. Anxious fear and 
 distressing doubt have taken the place of a holy 
 assurance and a peaceful persuasion that you are one 
 of the Lord's people. In endeavouring to trace 
 this painful state of mind to its cause, did it never 
 occur to you, that your lack of enlargement of 
 heart towards all saints, especially towards those of 
 other branches of the same family, has, in all pro- 
 bability, so grieved the Spirit of adoption, that he 
 has withholden from your own soul that clear 
 testimony, that direct witness by which your interest 
 in the covenant love of God, and your union with 
 Christ, would have been clearly made known to you ? 
 You have grieved that same Spirit in your brother, 
 who dwelleth in you, and upon whom you are so 
 dependent for all your sweet consolation and holy 
 desires ; and he has suspended the light, and peace, 
 and joy of your own soul. 
 
 But here is a test of relationship to the family of 
 God which never fails. "We hnoiv that we have 
 passed from death unto life, because we love the 
 brethren." From this, the weakest believer may 
 extract the greatest consolation. Other evidences, 
 beloved, may be beclouded. Divine knowledge 
 may be deficient, and Christian experience may be 
 
252 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 limited and the question, "Am I a child of God?'* 
 may long have been one of painful doubt: but here 
 is an evidence which cannot deceive. You may 
 doubt your love to God, but your love to His 
 people, as such, proves the existence and the reality 
 of your love to Him. Your attachment to them, 
 because they are holy, is an evidence of your own 
 holiness, which no power can invalidate or set aside. 
 Since the Holy Spirit has constituted it as evidence, 
 and since God admits it as such, we press its 
 comfort, with all the energy which we possess, upon 
 the heart of the doubting, trembling child of God. 
 You may often have questioned the reality of your 
 love to God, scarcely daring to claim an affection so 
 great as this. Your attachment to Jesus, so 
 inconstant, so wavering and so cold, may often have 
 raised the anxious fear and the perplexing doubt. 
 But your love to the people of God, has been like a 
 sheet-anchor to your soul. This you have not 
 questioned, and you could not doubt. You have 
 loved them because they were the people of God ; 
 you have felt an attachment to them because they 
 were the disciples of Christ. What can this prove 
 but your love to God, your affection to Jesus, and 
 your own participation in the same Divine nature? 
 It were a thing impossible for you to love that 
 which is holy without a corresponding principle of 
 holiness in yourself. Speaking of the enmity of 
 the ungodly against his people, our Lord employs 
 this language: "If ye were of the w^orld, the 
 world would love its own ; but because ye are not 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 253 
 
 of the world, but I have chosen you out of the 
 
 world, therefore the world hateth you." IsTow, if 
 
 there is the opposite feeling to this, glowing in your 
 
 hearts, be sure that, as the hatred of the world to 
 
 the saints proves that it loves onhj its otvn, so 3'our 
 
 love to the saints places the fact of your union with 
 
 them beyond all doubt. Try your heart beloved, 
 
 by this test. Do you not love the people of God 
 
 because they are His people ? Is not Christ's image 
 
 in them, that upon which you so delight to gaze, 
 
 and, gazing upon which, often enkindles your soul 
 
 with love to Christ himself? And do you not love 
 
 to cull the choicest flowers of grace in the Lord's 
 
 garden, — growing in what bed they may — as those 
 
 in whom your soul has the greatest delight — their 
 
 difterent tints, their varied beauties and odours, 
 
 rather increasing, than diminishing, the pleasure 
 
 which they afford you ? Then, let every Christian 
 
 professor test his religion by this grace. Let him 
 
 who has been wont to retire within his own narrow 
 
 enclosure ask himself the question, "If I love not 
 
 my brother whom I have seen, how can I love God 
 
 whom I have not seen ?" 
 
 Let us now briefly trace some of the operations 
 
 of this heaven-born grace of Christian love, by 
 
 which its real existence in our hearts is proved. 
 
 We have endeavoured to show, that it recognises as 
 
 brethren, all w^ho are partakers of like precious faith 
 
 with us, who hold Christ the head, who walk 
 
 according to the Gospel of Christ, and who are 
 
 labouring and seeking for the coming of his king- 
 00 
 
254 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 dom. "VVe will now proceed to portray some of the 
 effects of brotherly love. 
 
 It tenderly sympathises with all the suffering 
 believers. Here is the evidence of our own mem- 
 bership with the family of God. " If one member 
 suffer, all the members suffer with it." And it is 
 in this exercise of Christian sympathy that " the 
 members have the same care one for another.'' 
 The Church of God is a suffering Church. All the 
 members are, more or less, and' variously, tried. 
 Many are the burdens of the saints. It would be 
 impossible, we think, to find one, whose lip has not 
 touched the cup of sorrow, whose spirit has not 
 felt the pressure of trouble. Some walk in doubt 
 and darkness, — some are particularly setup as a 
 mark for Satan, — some suffer from a nervous tem- 
 perament, discolouring every bright and beautiful 
 picture of life, — some are the subjects of personal 
 affliction, pining sickness excluding them from all 
 participation in the songs of Zion and the solemn 
 assemblies of the saints, — some are bereaved, 
 sorrowing, like Rachel for her children, or mourn- 
 ing, like the sisters of Bethany, for their brother. 
 Some are suffering from narrow^ed and exhausted 
 resources; and there may be not a few, suffering 
 even from actual want itself. Ah ! how many will 
 say, "You have touched upon every sorrow but 
 mine'' — so extensive is the field of Christian 
 sympathy ! But what scope for the \^\aj of those 
 heaven-born affections begotten in the heart of each 
 true believer ! "A new commandment give I unto 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 255 
 
 3'ou," says Christ, " that ye love one another." And 
 how is this commandment to be obeyed ? The 
 apostle answers, "Bear ye one another's burthen, 
 and so fulfil the laio of Christ." Therefore the 
 bearing of one another's burthens is a necessary 
 effect and proper exercise of this holy love. It 
 will delight to recognise the suffering Saviour in his 
 suffering members. And it will go and lift the 
 pressure from the spirit, and chase the sorrow from 
 the heart, and dry the tear from the eye, and sup- 
 ply the pressing need. And if it cannot accomplish 
 this, it will take its place by the side of the suf- 
 ferer, sharing the sorrow and the want it has no 
 power to comfort or remove. Is this law of Christ 
 — the law of love — thus exhibited in you ? 
 
 " Do you love Christ? — I ask not if you feel 
 The warm excitement of that party zeal 
 Which follows on, while others lead the way, 
 And make his cause the fashion of the day : 
 But do you love him when his garh is mean ; 
 Nor shrink to let your fellowship be seen ? 
 Do you love Jesus, blind, and halt, and maimed ? 
 In prison succour him ; — nor feel ashamed 
 To own him, though his injured name may be 
 A mark for some dark slander's obloquy? 
 Do you love Jesus, in the orphan's claim, 
 And bid the widow welcome in his name ? 
 Say not, ' When saw we him ? ' — Each member dear, 
 Poor and afflicted, wears his image here ; 
 And if unvalued or unknown by thee. 
 Where can thy union with the Bochjhtt 
 And if thou thus art to the body dead, 
 Where is thy life in Christ the living Head ? 
 
256 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 And if dissevered from the living Vine, 
 
 How canst thou dream that thou hast life divine ! 
 
 " Sweet is the union true believers feel : 
 Into one Spirit they have drunk; — the seal 
 Of God is on their hearts, — and thus they see 
 In each the features of one family ! 
 If one is suffering, — all the rest are sad ; 
 If but the least is honored, — all are glad. 
 The grace of Jesus, which they all partake, 
 Flows out in mutual kindness for his sake ; 
 Here he has left them for a while to wait. 
 And represent 7dm in their suffering state ; 
 While he, though glorified, as yet alone, 
 Bears the whole church before the Father's throne,'^ 
 
 In the exercise of brotherly love, there will also 
 be a tender forbearance with all wJio differ from us in 
 Judgment. The exercise of private judgmeot is the 
 natural and inalienable right of every individual. 
 Sanctified by the Spirit of God, it becomes a pre- 
 cious privilege of the believer. He prizes it more 
 than riches, claims it as one of the immunities of 
 his heavenly citizenship, and will surrender it only 
 w^ith life itself Christian love will avoid infringing, 
 in the least degree, upon this sacred right. I am 
 bound, by the law of love, to concede to my bro- 
 ther, to its fullest extent, that which I claim for 
 myself. I am, moreover, bound to believe him con- 
 scientious and honest in the views which he holds, 
 and that he maintains them in a reverence for the 
 word, and in the exercise of the fear of God. He 
 does not see eye to e^^e with me in every point of 
 "truth, — our views of church government, of ordi- 
 nances, and of some of the doctrines, are not alike. 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER 257 
 
 And yet, discerning a perfect agreement as to tlie 
 one great and only way of salvation ;• and, still 
 more, marking in him much of the lowly, loving 
 spirit of his Master, and an earnest desire, in simpli- 
 city and godly sincerity, to serve him, how can I 
 cherish or manifest towards him any other than a 
 feeling of brotherly love? God loves him, God 
 bears with him, and Christ may see in him, despite 
 of a creed less accurately balanced with the word 
 of truth than mine, a walk more in harmony with 
 the holy, self-denying, God-glorifying precepts of 
 that truth. With an orthodoxy less perfect, there may 
 be a life more holy. With less illumination in the 
 judgment, there may be more grace in the heart. 
 How charitable in my interpretation, then, how 
 loving in my spirit, how kind and gentle in my 
 manner, should I be towards him ! How jealous, 
 too, ought I to be of that independence of mind, in 
 the exercise of which he may, notwithstanding, have 
 arrived at conclusions opposite to my own ! Che- 
 rishing these feelings, Christians who differ in judg- 
 ment, will be placed in a more favourable position 
 for the understanding of one another's views, and 
 for the united examination of the word of God. Di- 
 versity of judgment, through the infirmity of our 
 fallen nature, is apt to beget alienation of feeling; 
 and, consequently, the development of truth is hin- 
 dered. But where harmony of affection is culti- 
 vated, there will be a greater probability of arriving at 
 more perfect agreement in sentiment, thus walking 
 in accordance with the Apostle's rule, — " I beseech 
 22* 
 
258 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 that ye all speak the same thing, and that there be 
 no divisions among 3'ou ; but that ye be perfectly 
 joined together in the same mind, and in the same 
 judgment." 
 
 Another exercise of Christian love will be, its en- 
 deavours to avoid all occasions of offence. These, 
 through the many and fast-clinging infirmities of 
 the saints of God, will often occur. But they are to 
 be avoided, and in the exercise of that love which 
 proves our Christian character, they will be avoided. 
 The child of God will desire to " keep the unity of 
 the Spirit in the bond of peace." Whatever tends to 
 weaken that bond, he will endeavour to lay aside. 
 Whatever he may discover in his intercourse with 
 the saints calculated to wound, to distress, to alienate, 
 to ofiend, either in his manner, or in his spirit, the 
 healthy exercise of holy love will constrain him to 
 overcome. He will avoid ' giving offence." lie will 
 be modest in. the expression of his own opinion, re- 
 spectful and deferential towards the opinion of 
 others. He will avoid that recklessness of spirit 
 which, under the cover of faithfulness, cares not to 
 estimate consequences ; but which, pursuing its heed- 
 less way, often crushes beneath its rough-shod heel 
 the finest feelings of the human heart; saying and 
 doing what it pleases, regardless of the wounds which, 
 all the while, it is deeply and irreparably inflicting. 
 How sedulous, too, will he be to avoid anything 
 like a dictatorial manner in enunciating his judg- 
 ment, and all hard words and strong expressions iu 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 259 
 
 differing from authorities of equal, perhaps of grea- 
 ter weight than his own. Oh ! were this divine af- 
 fection bat more deeply lodged in the hearts of all 
 those who ' profess and call themselves Christians,' 
 what courtesy of manner — what grace of deport- 
 ment — what tender regard of one another's feelings 
 — what kindness in word and in action — what care- 
 fulness to avoid inflicting even a momentary pain — 
 what putting away, as becometh saints, all wrath, 
 anger, evil speaking, and malice — and what con- 
 stant remembrance of his solemn words, wdio said, 
 *• Whoever shall offend one of these little ones who 
 believe in me, it were better that a mill-stone were 
 hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned 
 in the depths of the sea," — would each believer ex- 
 hibit ! Lord, fill our souls more and more with this 
 lovely grace of love ! 
 
 The forgiveness of offences is an operation of 
 Christian love, equally as essential and beautiful. 
 If there is a single exercise of divine grace in which, 
 more than in any other, the believer resembles God, 
 it is this. God's love to man is exhibited in one 
 great and glorious manifestation and a single word 
 expresses it — forgiveness. In nothing hath He so 
 gloriously revealed Himself as in the exercise of this 
 divine prerogative. E"owhere does He appear so 
 like Himself as here.. He forgives sin, and the 
 pardon of sin involves the bestowment of every other 
 blessing. How often are believers called upon thus 
 to imitate God ! And how like Him in spirit, in 
 affection, and in action do they appear, when, with 
 
260 
 
 true greatness of soul and with lofty magnanimity 
 of mind, they fling from their hearts, and efiace 
 from their memories, all traces of the oiFence that 
 has heen given, and of the injury that has been 
 received ! How aftecting and illustrious the example 
 of the expiring Redeemer! At the moment that 
 his deepest wound was inflicted, as if blotting out 
 the sin and its remembrance with the very blood 
 that it shed, he prayed, as the last drop oozed and 
 as the last breath departed, " ¥ather, forgive them !" 
 How fully and fearfully might he have avenged 
 himself at that moment ! A stronger than Samson 
 hung upon the cross. And as he bowed his human 
 nature and yielded up his spirit, he could as easily 
 have bowed the pillars of the universe, burying his 
 murderers beneath its ruins. But no ! he was too 
 great for this. His strength should be on the side 
 of mercy. His revenge should WTeak itself in com- 
 passion. He would heap coals of Are upon their 
 heads. He would overcome and conquer the evil — 
 but he would overcome and conquer, it with good, 
 "Father, forgive them." It is in the constant view 
 of this forgiveness that the followers of Christ 
 desire, on all occasions of offence given, whether 
 real or imaginary, to "forgive those who trespass 
 against them." Themselves the subjects of a 
 greater and diviner forgiveness, they would be 
 prompt to exercise the same holy feeling towards an 
 oftending brother. In the remembrance of the ten 
 thousand talents from whose payment his Lord has 
 released him, he will not hesitate to cancel the 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 261 
 
 hundred pence owing to him by his fellow-servant. 
 Where, then, will you find any exercise of brotherly 
 love more God-like and divine than this ? In its 
 immediate tender, its greatest sweetness and richest 
 charm appear. The longer it is delayed, the more 
 difficult becomes the duty. The imagination is 
 allowed to dwell upon, and the mind to brood 
 over, a slight offence received, perhaps never 
 intended, until it has increased to such a magnitude 
 as almost to extend, in the eye of the aggrieved 
 party, beyond the limit of forgiveness. 
 
 And then follows an endless train of evils; — the 
 wound festers and inflames ; the breach widens ; 
 coldness is manifested ; malice is cherished ; every 
 w^ord, look, and act, are misinterpreted ; the molehill 
 grows into a mountain, and the little rivulet swells 
 into an ocean, and happiness and peace retire from 
 scenes so uncongenial, and from hearts so full of all 
 hatred and strife. Bat how lovely in its appearance, 
 and how pleasurable in the feelings it enkindles, is 
 a prompt exercise of Christian forgiveness ! Before 
 the imagination has had time to play, or the wo. aid 
 to fester, or ill-minded persons to interfere. Christian 
 love has triumphed, and all is forgiven ! How fall of 
 meaning is our blessed Lord's teaching on this point 
 of Christian daty ! It behoves us prayerfully and 
 constantly to ponder his word. Peter inquired of 
 him, "Lord, how often shall my brother sin against 
 me, and I forgive him ; till seven times ? Jesus 
 saith unto him, I say not. Until seven times, but, 
 Until seventy times seven,'''' Thus, true love has no 
 
2G2 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 limits to its forgiveness. If it descries in the bosom 
 of the offender the faintest marks of regret, of 
 contrition, and of return, like Him from whose 
 heart it comes, it is "ready to forgive," even " until 
 seventy times seven." who can tell the debt w^e 
 owe to His repeated, perpetual forgiveness ? And 
 shall I refuse to be reconciled to my brother ? Shall 
 I withhold from him the hand of love, and let the 
 sun go down upon my wrath? Because he has 
 trampled upon me, who have so often acknowledged 
 myself the chief of sinners ; because he has slighted 
 my self-importance, or has wounded my pride, or 
 has grieved my too sensitive spirit, or, it is possible, 
 without just cause, has uttered hard speeches, and 
 has lifted up his heel against me, shall I keep alive 
 the embers of an unforgiving spirit in my heart? 
 Or rather, shall I heap coals of fire upon his head, 
 not to consume him wdth wrath, but to overcome 
 him with love ? How has God my Father, how has 
 Jesus my Redeemer, my Friend, dealt w^ith me? 
 Even so will I deal with my offending brother. I 
 wall not even wait until he comes and acknowledges 
 his fault. I will go to him and tell him that, at the 
 mercy-seat, beneath the cross, with my eye upon the 
 loving, forgiving heart of God, I have resolved to 
 forgive all, and will forget all. *'And when ye 
 stand -prsiyiug, forgive, if ye have aught against any ; 
 that your Father also which is in heaven may forgive 
 you your trespasses. But if ye do not forgive, 
 neither will your Father in heaven forgive your 
 trespasses." Mark xi. 25, 26. 
 
OF CHRrSTIAN CHARACTER. 263 
 
 But some may reply, The breach is of so long 
 standing, it is now too late to seek reconcihation. 
 An old and acute writer thus meets the objection ; 
 " Well, then, if it be too late, give me leave to en- 
 treat one thing at thy hands ; it is this : I say if it 
 be too late, and you say it is too late to be recon- 
 ciled and to love one another, let me entreat this, 
 that you should lay aside your garments — the gar- 
 ments of your profession of being Christ's disciples. 
 For our Saviour saith, " By this shall all men know 
 that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to an- 
 other." And, therefore, if it be too late to love one 
 another, and to be reconciled, come and let us lay 
 down our garments, let us lay down our profession 
 of being the disciples of Christ ; yea, let us lay down 
 our expectation of heaven too, for saith the apostle, 
 * Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of 
 God.' And is not passion, maHce, and want of love, 
 flesh and blood ? Certainly-, certainly, if I do not 
 walk in this way of love, it is not all my parts and 
 all my gifts that will bail me from the arrest of that 
 scripture, * Flesh and blood shall not inherit the 
 kingdom of heaven.' Believe it, believe it, it is not 
 too late, it is not too late to love one another; 
 it is not too late to do my work as long as it 
 is not too late to receive my wages. And if I say, 
 it is too late to be reconciled, what if God say to 
 me, then it is too late for my soul to be saved ?" 
 And oh! what a lovely spectacle would it be — a 
 spectacle on which angels would look down with de- 
 light—to see, in the exercise of this all-divine, all- 
 
264 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 powerful, all-expulsive emofion of Christian love, 
 individuals, or families, or churches, who had long 
 been at variance one with another, now drawn to- 
 gether in sweet affection, past injuries and old ani- 
 mosities forgotten in the joys of perfect reconcilia- 
 tion, forgiveness, and love ! Let the holy attempt 
 be made. *' Put on, therefore, as the elect of God, 
 holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, hum- 
 bleness of mind, meekness, long-suffering, forbear- 
 ing one another, and forgiving one another, if any 
 man hath a quarrel against any : even as Christ for- 
 gave you, so also do ye." 
 
 Christian forbearance is another beautiful exhibi- 
 tion of this feeling. The image of God is but im- 
 perfectly restored in the renewed soul. The resem- 
 blance to Christ in the most matured believer, is at 
 best but a faint copy. In our intercourse with the 
 saints of God, we often meet with much that calls 
 for the exercise of our indulgence; many weaknesses 
 of the flesh and of the spirit ; and many peculiari- 
 ties of thought and of manner. There are, too, di- 
 versities of gifts, and degrees of grace. Some are 
 more deeply taught than others — some are strong, 
 and some are weak — some travel rapidly, and others 
 slowly — some are fearless and intrepid, others are 
 timid and scrupulous. Now all these things call for 
 the exercise of Christian forbearance. The apostle 
 clearly defines the rule that should guide us here : 
 " We that are strong ought to bear the infirmities 
 of the weak, and not to please ourselves." 
 
 Especially in church intercourse will the grace of 
 
OF CIIIITSTIAX CHARACTER. 265 
 
 forbearance be called into requisition. When the 
 providence of God has thrown together a commu- 
 nity of individuals, composed of a great variety of 
 character, and of mind, and of constitutional tem- 
 perament, although each grade may be more or less 
 modified by the renewing of the Spirit, there will 
 still be a broad field for the passive exercise of love. 
 In a church, necessarily imperfect, there may be 
 found to exist many things, in which taste as well 
 as judgment will be found at fault, calculated to 
 engender a feeling of dislike, and even of disgust, 
 in a mind refined and delicate. But here Christian 
 forbearance must be exercised. They are the infir- 
 mities of the weak of Christ's flock, and they who 
 are stronger in grace should kindly and patiently 
 bear them. In pursuing a difterent course, we may 
 wound some of the most gracious, humble, and 
 prayerful saints of God. We may be but little 
 aware with what frequent and deep humiliation in 
 secret, their conscious failings may overwhelm 
 them. And we ought to bear in mind, that if we 
 sometimes might wish to see in them less that was 
 rough in speech, and abrupt and forward in manner, 
 and fault-finding in disposition, thet/ may detect in 
 us a loftiness of spirit, a coldness of manner, and 
 an apparent haughtiness of carriage, which may be 
 an equal trial to them, demanding the exercise on 
 their part of the same grace of forbearance towards 
 us. How watchful, how tender, how kind, then, 
 should w^e be, ever standing with that broad mantle 
 of love in our hands, which "suffereth long, and is 
 23 
 
266 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 kind ; which secketh uot its own ; is not easily pro- 
 voked," prepared to cast it over the failing of a 
 Christian brother, the moment it meets the eye ! 
 
 The duty of brotherly admonition and reproof is a 
 perfectly legitimate exercise of Christian love. It 
 may be found the most difficult, but the result will 
 prove it to be the most holy and precious operation 
 of this grace. The Church of God is one family, 
 linked together by ties and interests the closest, the 
 holiest, and the tenderest. It is natural, therefore, 
 that each member should desire for the others the 
 utmost perfection of Christian attainment, and must 
 feel honoured or dishonoured, as the case may be, 
 by the walk and conversation of those with whom 
 the relationship is so close. In Christian friendship, 
 too, the same feeling is recognised. We naturally 
 feel anxious to see in one whom we tenderly love, 
 the removal of whatever detracts from the beauty, 
 the symmetry, and the perfection of Christian 
 character. Here, then, will the duty of brotherly 
 admonition and reproof find its appropriate sphere 
 of exercise. But few things contribute more to the 
 formation of Christian character, and to the holy 
 walk of a church, than the faithful, Christ-like dis- 
 charge of this duty. It is true, it requires no ordi- 
 nary degree of grace in him who administers, and 
 in him who receives, the reproof. That in the one 
 there should be nothing of the spirit which seems 
 to say, " Stand by, I am holier than thou ;" nothing 
 to give needless pain or humiliation, but the utmost 
 meekness, gentleness, and tenderness ; and that in 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 2G7 
 
 the other, there should be the tractable and humble 
 mind, that admits the failing, receives the reproof, 
 and is grateful for the admonition. " Let the right- 
 eous smite me," says David, ''it shall be a khid- 
 ness ; and let him reprove me, it shall be an excel- 
 lent oil." " He that refuseth reproof erreth, and he 
 that heareth reproof getteth understanding, and shall 
 be honoured. Open rebuke is better than secret 
 love; and faithful are the wounds of a friend." 
 Thus, while this duty is administered and received 
 in the spirit of the meek and lowly Jesus, the 
 Church will be kindly aftectioned one to another, 
 knit together in love, and growing up into that state 
 m which she will be without a spot, or a wrinkle, 
 or any such thing. 
 
 True Christian love will avoid taking the seat of 
 judgment. There are few violations of the law of 
 love more common than those rash and premature 
 ex cathedra judgments, which some Christians are 
 ever ready to pronounce upon the actions, the prin- 
 ciples, and the motives of others. And yet a more 
 difficult and delicate position no Christian man can 
 be placed in than this. To form a true and correct 
 opmion of a certain line of conduct, we must often 
 possess the heart-searching eye of God. We must 
 be intimately acquainted with all the hidden 
 motives, and must be fully in possession of all the 
 concomitant circumstances of the case, before we 
 can possibly arrive at anything like an accurate 
 opinion. Thus, in consequence of this blind pre- 
 mature pre-judgment, this rash and hasty decision, 
 
268 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 the worst possible construction is often put upon the 
 actions and the remarks of others, extremely unjust 
 and deeply wounding to the feelings. But especially 
 inconsistent with this love, when small unessential 
 differences of opinion in the explanation of scrip- 
 tural facts, and consequent nonconformity in creed 
 and discipline, are construed into rejection of the 
 faith once delivered to the saints, and made the 
 occasion of hard thoughts, unkind and severe treat- 
 ment. Let us then hear the Lord's words, " Judge 
 not, that ye be not judged." And the apostle's, 
 ""Why dost thou judge thy brother? Or why dost 
 thou set at nought thy brother? for we shall all 
 stand before the judgment-seat of Christ. Let us 
 not therefore judge one another any more." 
 
 Christian liberality^ in alleviating the necessities of 
 the Lord's poor, is an attribute of brotherly love 
 which we must not pass by unnoticed. The greater 
 number of the Lord's people are "poor in this 
 world." "I will leave in the midst of thee a poor 
 and an afflicted people, and they shall trust in the 
 Lord." The poor, the Church has always with her. 
 They are a precious legacy committed to her care 
 by her ascended Lord. 
 
 The line of Christian duty is clear respecting them. 
 Even in the old dispensation, we find more than a 
 dim shadowing forth of this duty. " If thy brother 
 be waxen poor, thou shalt relieve him. Thou shalt 
 not give him thy money on usury, nor lend him thy 
 victuals for increase." Lev. xxv. 35. "If there be 
 among you a poor man of one of thy brethren, thou 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 269 
 
 shalt not harden thy heart nor shut thy hand from 
 thy poor brother; but thou shalt open thy hand 
 wide unto him, and shalt surely lend him sufficient 
 for his need. And thy heart shall not be grieved, 
 (i. e.y shall not begrudge the gift, but shall give 
 cheerfully^) when thou givest unto him." Deut. xv. 
 7 — 11. This duty becomes still more obhgatory, 
 and is enforced with still stronger motives, under 
 the Christian dispensation. "Whoso hath this 
 world's good, and seeth his brother have need, and 
 shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how 
 dwelleth the love of God in him ? My little children, 
 let us not love in word, neither in tongue, but in 
 deed and in truth." Thus, "by love we serve one 
 another." And that holy luxury of feeling has the 
 Lord associated with the discharge of this Christian 
 duty ! Who has not realized, in walking in this 
 sweet and lovely precept, a blessing peculiar to 
 itself? Who has not felt that it was " more blessed 
 to give than to receive;" that in this walk, the 
 greatest expenditure has always resulted in the 
 greatest increase; and that in supplying Christ's 
 need in his poor, tried, and necessitous representa- 
 tives, Christ has himself met us in the way with some 
 manifest token of his gracious approval ? for 
 more love to Christ as exhibited towards his people ! 
 To see only Christ in them — be they mean, or poor, 
 or tried, or infirm, or despised, or reviled, or sick, 
 or in prison, or in bonds — to recognise Christ in 
 them, aud to love Christ in them, and to serve 
 Christ in them. This would bring more sweet dis- 
 
270 CHRISTIAN LOVE, A TEST 
 
 coveries of the inbeing of Christ in our own souls. 
 How could we show our love to Christ in another, 
 and not feel the sunshine of his love in our own 
 hearts ? Impossible ! Oh ! to hear him speak when 
 the case of need presents itself, "Inasmuch as ye 
 have done it unto one of the least of these my 
 brethren, ye have done it unto me !" 
 
 True Christian love will excite in the mind, a 
 Tioly jealousy for the Christian reputation of other 
 believers. How sadly is this overlooked by many 
 professors ! What sporting with reputation, what 
 trifling with character, what unveiling to the eyes 
 of others, the weaknesses, and the infirmities, and 
 the stumblings, of which they have become cogni- 
 zant, marks many in our day ! Oh ! if the Lord 
 had dealt with us, as we have thoughtlessly and 
 "uncharitably dealt with our fellow-servants, what 
 shame and confusion would cover us ! We should 
 blush to lift up our faces before men. But the 
 exercise of this divine love in the heart will con- 
 strain us to abstain from all envious, suspicious 
 feelings, from all evil surmisings, from all wrong 
 construing of motives, from all tale-bearing — that 
 fruitful cause of so much evil in the Christian church 
 — from slander, from unkind insinuations, and from 
 going from house to house, retailing evil, and 
 making the imperfections, the errors, or the doings 
 of others, the theme of idle, sinful gossip, — " busy- 
 bodies in other men's matters." All this is utterly 
 inconsistent Avitli our high and holy calling. It is 
 degrading, dishonouring, lowering to our character 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 271 
 
 as the children of God. It dims the lustre of our 
 piety. It impairs our moral influence in the Avorld. 
 Ought not the character of a Christian professor to 
 be as dear to me as my own ? And ought I not as 
 vigilantly to watch over it, and as zealously to 
 promote it, and as indignantly to vindicate it, 
 when unjustly aspersed or maliciously assailed, 
 as if I, and not he, were the suflerer? How 
 can the reputation of a believer in Jesus be 
 aflfected, and we not be affected ? It is our common 
 Lord who is wounded — it is our common salvation 
 that is injured — it is our own family that is ma- 
 ligned. And our love to Jesus, to his truth, and to 
 his people, should caution us to be as jealous of the 
 honour, as tender of the feelings, and as watchful 
 of the character and reputation of every member 
 of the Lord's family, be his denomination what it 
 may, as of our own. "Who is weak," says the 
 apostle, " and I am not weak ? who is offended, and 
 I burn not?" how graciously, how kindly, does 
 our God deal witli His people! Lading His hand 
 upon their many spots. He seems to say, " ISlo eye 
 but mine shall see them." Oh ! let us, in this 
 particular, be " imitators of God as dear children !" 
 Thus shall we more clearly evidence to others, and 
 be assured ourselves, that we have "passed from 
 death unto life." But, inviting as it is, we must 
 conduct this subject to a close. 
 
 Anticipate the happiness of heaveri. It is a world 
 of love. Love reigns in every heart — beams from 
 every eye — glows on ever cheek, and breathes from 
 
272 
 
 every lip. ISTo thing is there tending to interrupt 
 the deepest flow of this, the holiest, the divinest, 
 and the sweetest of all affections. The God of love 
 is there ; and Jesus, the revelation of love, is there ; 
 and the Holy Spirit, the revealer of love, is there ; 
 and from the infinite plenitude of each, the glori- 
 fied spirits receive and drink full and everlasting 
 draughts of love. O blissful regions these, where 
 there are no more strifes, and divisions, and selfish- 
 ness, and pride, and ambition, and coldness, and 
 discord ; but where the songs are the music of love ; 
 and the trees w^ave in the winds of love ; and the 
 rivers flow with the fulness of love ; and the air is 
 balmy with the soothing of love ; and the bowers 
 are fragrant with the odours of love. 
 
 " Love is the golden chain that binds the happy souls above, 
 And he's an heir of heaven, who finds his bosom glow with 
 love." 
 
 Let us more deeply cherish in our bosoms this 
 heaven-born affection ; let us cultivate it more and 
 more towards all with whom we hope to spend our 
 eternity of joy. Let us "love as brethren." Why 
 should we 'fall out by the w^ay,' when we are jour- 
 neying to the same land of promise? And why 
 should we stand aloof from one another, when we 
 
 ARE ALL ONE IN ChRIST JeSUS ? 
 
 " We are * one in Christ our Lord,' 
 Time has no chain to bind us, 
 We fear not death's sharp sword. 
 And the grave we leave behind us. 
 
OF CHRISTIAN CHARACTER. 273 
 
 " "We are one in faith below, 
 In hope and consolation, 
 Though garb and colours show 
 Shadows of variation. 
 
 " "We are one in love divine 
 Each stony heart renewing, 
 Let it reflected shine, 
 
 Christians, your hearts imbuing. 
 
 " We are one from Christ's last prayer, 
 Whom the Father heareth ever. 
 And how can we despair, — 
 "Who from his love can sever ? 
 
 " "We are ' one in homes on high, 
 "Which Jesus is preparing. 
 For the blessed ones who die. 
 One cross, one glory sharing. 
 
 " "W"e are ' one in Christ our Lord,' 
 Thou, of peace the Giver, 
 From every strife abhorred 
 Thy family deliver. 
 
 " "We are * one in Christ our Lord,' 
 He speaks who knows no turning 
 And we stay upon his word. 
 Its light afar discerning. 
 
 " We are ' one in Christ our Lord,' 
 Though earth and hell endeavour 
 To change his mighty word, 
 Its truth abideth ever." 
 
 THE END 
 
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 THE LIFE OF PHILIP MELANCHTHON, 
 
 THE FRIEND AND COMPANION OP LUTHER, According to his Inner and Outer Lif* 
 Translated from the German of Charles Frederick Ledderhose, by the Rev. G. F. Krotei, 
 Pastor of the Trinity Lutheran Church, Lancaster, Pa. With a Portrait of Melaachthon. 
 In one Volume, 12mo. Price $1 00» 
 
 THE PARABLES OF FRED'K ADOLPHUS KRUMMACHER. 
 
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 beautifully printed on fine paper. A handsome demy octavo volume. 
 
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 The simple and Christian parables of Krummacher, chiefly the productions of his younger years, 
 have acquired a wide popularity, and have long afforded a fund on which our periodicals have freelj 
 diawn. In their collected form they have passed through various editions in Germany, but we douW 
 whether any of them have been so tasteful and beautiful in all their appliances as the one before ui. 
 The typography is very chaste, and the illustrations neat and appropriate.— Presftyienan. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN'S DAILY DELIGHT. 
 
 A SACRED GARLAND, CULLED FROM ENGLISH AND AMERICAN POETS. Beautl- 
 «ully Illustrated by Eight Engravings on Steel. 
 
 In cue volume, demy, octavo, cloth, gilt hacks, - Price $t 50 
 
 full gilt sides, hacks and edgesy H US 
 
 ^n this atrr.nctive volume we find much to please the eye ; but the most valuable rocommer.rtttioo 
 of the work ia found ih the lessons of piety, virtue, morality, and mercy, w};ich are thrown toeein»>i 
 ♦» this many-coloured jarland of poetic Rov/em.— Episcopal KccorJer. 
 
LINDSAY & BLAKISTON'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 THE YOUNG LADIES' HOME. 
 
 BY MRS. I.. O. TUTHILL, 
 
 AUTHOR or "l WILL BE A LADY/' "l WILL BE A GENTLEMAN," ETC. 
 
 A new- and 1>eautiful Edition, enlarged* 
 
 A Traveller betwixt life and death ; 
 
 The reason firm, the temperate will. 
 
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 To warn, to comfort and command; 
 And yet a spirit still and brifrht, 
 Witli something of an angel light. — WordswortJi. 
 
 In Cloth, Gilt Backs, 75 cents. In Full Gilt Edges, Ac, $1 25. 
 
 The object which '-he intelligent author of this volume has in view, is to awaken the attention of 
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 racter, and offers them various useful hints for their improvement, mentally and physically : explains 
 to them the station they are to occupy in society, and sets before them in its true light the responsi- 
 bility they incur by a neglect of their proper duties, in their too eager pursuit of the follies of the day 
 Such a book cannot fail to be useful, and we hope it may be read extensively.— £aZ/i»iorc American. 
 
 THE BROKEN BRACELET, 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 By MRS. ESLING, (Late Miss Waterman.) 
 
 Price in Cloth, Gilt Backs, $1 00. 
 
 "They are the poems of the affections, swelling forth from a heart chastened by the discipline of 
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 TREASURED THOUGHTS FROM FAVOURITE AUTHORS. 
 
 BY CAROLINE MAY, 
 AUTHOR OP THE "AMERICAN FEMALE POETS," ETC. 
 
 A neat 12mo. volume. Price $1 00. 
 
 In this book all is sound, rational, and improving, calculated to promote delicacy of feeing and 
 loftiness of sentiment, full of good sense and good taste. It is the best treasury of thoughts in ths 
 language.— C^rtfitan Inlelliyencer. 
 
 Containing many Gems of Thought, from writers of the highest celebrity, on themes of permanent 
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 "Good taste and good judgment make the selections of these excerpts, which convey lessons is 
 morals and wisdom in brief sentences, the best for seizing hold of the understanding, and remaining 
 fixed upon the memory. 
 
 FOREST FlTwTrFoFtHE WEST. 
 
 By MRS. ROBERTS, (Late Miss Rickey.) 
 
 WITH PORTRAIT, ETC. 
 
 In Cloth, Gilt Backs, 75 cents. Full Gilt, $1 00. 
 
 She possesses a warai, lively ffincy, and true poetic feeling : her verse flowing pure and musical aa 
 
 Ihe waters of her own West.— BuUcttn. 
 
 Ttiis vDlume is destined to take its place among the numerous American poetesses whos6 charminj 
 
 •rses expressive of womanly feeling enrich our literaiurv.—Presbyteiian. 
 
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 THE DIAL OF LOVE, 
 
 A CHRISTMAS BOOK FOR THE YOUNG. By Mary Howitt. Ten beau- 
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 MY NEIGHBOR'S CHILDREN. 
 
 From the German. By Mrs. Sarah A. Myers. In 2 volumes, 16mo. With 
 Illustrations. Price $1 25. 
 
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LINDSAY & BLAKISTON'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN FAMILY LIBRARY. 
 
 THE WOMEN OF THE OLD AND NEW TESTAMENT. 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIFE OF THE SAVIOUK. 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIVES OF THE PATRIAKCHS AND 
 PROPHETS. 
 
 SCENES IN THE LIVES OF THE APOSTLES. 
 
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 THE SEPTJLCHEES OF OUR DEPARTED. 
 
 BY THE REV. F. R. ANSPACH, A.M. 
 " As flowers which night, when day is o'er, perfume, 
 Breathes the sweet memory from a good man's tomb." 
 
 Sir E. L. Bulwer. 
 
 Third Edition. In one Vol., 12mo. Price $1. Cloth, gilt. $1 50. 
 
 Thi* is a voluma to comfort and to cheer ; to render the grave familiar, and to deiive from its oo» 
 toinplation the most encouraging hopes. A fine tone pervades the volume, and it abounds in just sen 
 aments ornately expressed. We should be glad to see that general seriousness of feelmg which woul] 
 nake such a volume popular.— PrcsMeria/j. 
 
 All Christians who are looking forward to the bliss of heaven, by passing through the tomb, will b« 
 irengthened and comforted by glancing over the lessons here inculcated as addressed to the pilgrin 
 a search of that better country. — Christian Chronicle. 
 
 THE CHILDREN OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. 
 
 4 Beautiful Presentation Volume. By the Rev. Theophilus Stork, D. D., 
 
 Pastor of St. Mark's Lutheran Church, Philadelphia. 
 
 12mo., Cloth, 75 Cents ; in fuU gilt, $1 00. 
 
 " How oft, heart-sick and sore, 
 I've wished I were once more 
 
 A little child."— Jlfr5. South«v. 
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 diction, the sound sentiments, the encouragements to parents to bring up their children in the fear of 
 the Lord, the abounding consolations for those who in God's providence have been called to yield up 
 their little ones to Him who gave them, these and other characteristics, render this book one of tho 
 most interesting and valuable of the kind that has for a long time been presented to the pubUc— 
 Lutheran Observer. 
 
 STRUGGLES FOR LIFE, An Autobiography. 
 In One Vol., 12nio. Price $1 00. 
 
 What Sunny and Shady Side are, as descriptive of American Pastoral Life, this delightful volume » 
 as descriptive of the Life of an English pastor. It describes, in a most felicitous style, his labours, 
 trials, sovows, pleasures, and joys. But, perhaps, its chief value consists in the vivid views it gives 
 of human nature as illustrated in the leading characteristics of EngLsh society, manners, and customa. 
 
 THE POETICAL WORKS OF JAMES MONTGOMERY. 
 
 The only complete edition; collected and prepared by him just prior to his death. 
 
 With a Portrait. One Volume, octavo. 
 Price, in Library style, $2 00 ; Cloth, fuU gilt, $3 00 ; Turkey Morocco, $4 00 
 
 The poetry of the Sheffield bard has an established reputation among serious readers of every class. 
 The spirit of the humble Christian and the pure Philanthropist, breathes through it all ; and few wi» 
 lise from the perusal of Mr. Montgomery's poems without feehng the elevating power of his chaste 
 and beautiful li-nes. We are glad to see such a favourite poet in such graceful attire. The typ« 
 paper, and entire "getting up" of this lolume, is in tasteful accordance with the precioun gems ii 
 contains, and reflects great credit 'he publishers.— Uecorrfer. 
 
LINDSAY &. BLAKISTON'S PUBLICATIONS, 
 
 %m. Jik larbaug^^s popular ^orb. 
 
 LINDSAY & BLAKISTON, PHILADELPHIA, 
 
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 Religious Denominations; 
 
 HEAVEN, 
 
 JR, AN EARNEST AND SCRIPTURAL INQUIRY INTO THE ABODE OF THE SAINTED DEA[X 
 BY THE REV. H. HARBAUGH. 
 
 PASTOR OF THE FIRST GERMAN REFORMED CHURCH, LANCASTER, PA. 
 
 In One Volume, 12mo. Price 75 Cents. 
 
 THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION, 
 
 OR AN EARNEST AND SCRIPTURAL DISCUSSION OF THE QUESTION, 
 
 BY REV. H. HARBAUGH. 
 
 In One Volume, 12mo. Price 75 Cents. 
 
 THE HEAVENLY HOME; 
 
 OR, 
 THE EMPLOYMENT AND ENJOYMENTS OF THE SAINTS IN HEAVEN. 
 
 BY THE REV. H. HARBAUGH, 
 
 AUTHOP. OP "THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION OF FRIENDS," AND *' HEAVEN; 
 OR, THE SAINTED DEAD." 
 
 In One Volume, 12mo. Price $1 00. 
 
 HARBAUGH'S FUTURE LIFE? 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 HEAVEN, OR, THE SAINTED DEAD, 
 THE HEAVENLY RECOGNITION, 
 THE HEAVENLY HOME. 
 
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LINDSAY &, BLAKlSrON'S PUBLICATIONS 
 
 PROCTOR'S HISTORY OF THE CRUSADES 
 
 With 154 lUustrations. 
 
 HISTOEY OF THE CRUSADES, 
 
 THEIR RISE, PROGRESS, AND RESULTS. By Major Proctob, «f tb« 
 
 Royal Military Academy. ■ 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 CHAPTER I. The First Crusade. — Causes of the Crnsades — Preaching ox thi 
 First Crusade — Peter the Hermit — The Crusade nndertaken by the People — 
 The Crusade undertaken by the Kings and Nobles — The First Crusaders at 
 Constantinople — The Siege of Nice — Defeat of the Turks — Seizure of Edessa — 
 Siege and Capture of Antioch by the Crusaders — Defence of Antioch by th« 
 Crusaders — Siege and Capture of Jerusalem by the Crusaders. 
 
 CHAPTER II. The Second Crusade.— State of the Latin Kingdom— Origin 
 of the Orders of Religious Chivalry — Fall of Edessa — Preaching of the Second 
 Crusade — Louis VII. and Conrad III. in Palestine. 
 
 CHAPTER IIL The Third Crusade.— The Rise of Saladin— Battle of Tib©- 
 rias, and Fall of Jerusalem — The Germans undertake the Crusade — Richard 
 Coeur de Lion in Palestine. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. The Fourth Crusade.— The French, Germans, and Ttaliana 
 unite in the Crusade — Affairs of the Eastern Empire — Expedition against Con- 
 stantinople — Second Siege of Constantinople. 
 
 CHAPTER V, The Last Four Crusades.— History of the Latin Empb-e of 
 the East— The Fifth Crusade— The Sixth Crusade— The Seventh Crusade- -The 
 Eighth Crusade. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. — Consequences op the Crusades. 
 
 At the present time, when a misunderstanding concerning the Holy Places at 
 Jerusalem has given rise to a war involving four of the great Powers of Europe, 
 the mind naturally reverts to the period when nearly all the military powers of 
 Europe made a descent on Palestine for the recovery of them from the possession 
 of the infidels. It would seem that the interest in these places is still alive; and 
 the history of the Holy Wars in Paleetine during a considerable portion of the 
 Middle Ages, may be supposed to form an attractive theme for the general reader. 
 
 Under this impression Major Proctor's excellent " History of the Crusades" has 
 been carefully revised, some additions made, a series of illustrative engravings, 
 •xecuted by first-rate artists, introduced, and the edition is now respectfully sub- 
 mitted to the public. 
 
 The editor, in the performjvnee of his duty, has been struck with the masterly, 
 clear, and lucid method in which the author has executed the work — a work of 
 considerable difiiculty, when we consider the long period and the multiplicity of 
 Important events embraced in the history; nor has the editor been less impressed 
 Kith the vigorous style, and the happy power of giving vividness, colour, and 
 thrilling interest to the events which he narrates, so conspicuous in Major Proc- 
 tor's history. No other historian of the Crusades has succeeded in comprising bo 
 complete and entertaining a narrative in so reasonable a compass. 
 
 i Handsome Octavo Volume, bound in Cloth, with appropriate Designs, $2 25 
 " " " elegantly gilt, 3 00 
 
LINDSAY 86 BLAKISTON'S PUBLICATIONS. 
 
 THE CAMP-FIRES OF THE EEYOLUTION 
 
 OR, THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY THRILLING EVENTS AND STORIES BY THE 
 
 OLD CONTINENTAL SOLDIERS. 
 
 BY HENRY C. WATSON. 
 'With OA'cr 50 Illustratious* 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 THE CAMP-FIRES 
 
 On Dorchester Heights* 
 At Cambridge. 
 At Mount Independence* 
 At liong Island* 
 At Skippack Creek* 
 At Germantown* 
 At Valley Forge* 
 At "Whitcmarsh* 
 At White Plains. 
 At Saratoga* 
 
 A large Octavo Volume. Price in Cloth Backs, $1 75. Embossed Leather, 
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 This work is well and pleasingly done, and the stories illustrate the oft-repeated quotation thai 
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 At Middlehrook. 
 
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 THE RAILROAD AND STEAMBOAT ANECDOTE BOOK; 
 
 Containing Numerous Anecdotes, Conversational Opinions, 
 Choice Sayings, etc., 
 
 FROM THE "WRITINGS OF 
 TOM HOOD, 
 JUDGE HALIBURTON, 
 CHARLES DICKENS, 
 
 WASHINGTON IRVING, 
 SYDNEY SMITH, 
 LORD BROUGHAM, 
 
 AND OTHER CELEBRATED AUTHORS. 
 
 BY AN OLD TRAVELLER. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 A neat 12mo. Volume. Pricpi, Cloth, 60 cents. Paper, 75 cent*. 
 
 BERNARD BARTON'S LIFE, LETTERS, AND POEMS. 
 
 BY HIS DAUGHTER. 
 
 WITH A PORTRAIT. 
 A neai i3iiim. Volume, 
 
I 
 
 ■ I 
 
 'M 
 -I 
 
 • i