LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY 
 
 PRINCETON, N. J. 
 
 Presented by 
 
 BX 9 178 .C7 i'"^ 
 
 Crawford, Thomas J. 
 
 The preaching of the cross ! 
 
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 r, 
 
 -■% 
 
THE 
 
 PREACHING OF THE CROSS 
 
BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 
 I. 
 
 THE DOCTRINE OF HOLY SCRIPTURE RESPECTING 
 
 THE ATONEMENT. Second Edition, Revised and Enlarged. Octavo, 12s. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE MYSTERIES OF CHRISTIANITY; Being the Baird 
 
 Lecture for 1874. Crown octavo, 7s. 6d. 
 III. 
 
 THE FATHERHOOD OF GOD, considered in its General and 
 
 Special Aspects, and particularly in relation to the Atonement ; with a Review of 
 Recent Speculations on the Subject. Third Edition, Revised and Enlarged. 
 Octavo, 9s. 
 
 IV. 
 
 PRESBYTERIANISM DEFENDED against the exclusive 
 
 Claims of Prelacy as urged by Romanists and Tractarians. Second Edition. 
 PRESBYTERY OR PRELACY : Which is the More Conformable to the 
 Pattern of the Apostolic Churches? Second Edition. Bound in one vol., 2s. 
 
 WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & SONS, Edinburgh and London. 
 
THE 
 
 PREACHING OF THE CROSS 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER SERMONS 
 
 By 
 
 THOMAS J. CRAWFORD, D.D. 
 
 LATE PROFESSOR OF DIVINITY IN THE UNIVERSITY, AND 
 
 FORMERLY ONE OF THE MINISTERS OF ST ANDREW'S 
 
 CHURCH, IN THE CITY OF EDINBURGH 
 
 WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS 
 
 EDINBURGH AND LONDON 
 
 MDCCCLXXVI 
 
PREFATORY NOTE. 
 
 The following sermons were written by the late Dr 
 Crawford when he was one of the ministers of St An- 
 drew's Church, Edinburgh. With the exception of 
 the one preached before the Society for Propagating 
 Christian Knowledge, they were not revised by him 
 for publication ; but the others also will be found to 
 bear undoubted marks of that ability and thoroughness 
 which characterised all he did. They are now pub- 
 lished at the desire of members of his former con- 
 gregation, and of some of his old friends and students, 
 who believe that they will tend to impress on the 
 hearts of many the precious truths he so earnestly 
 commended, and will prove an acceptable memorial 
 of one who was not more honoured for his hio^h 
 talents and varied attainments, than he was beloved 
 for his many Christian virtues and for his warm 
 attachment to the faith " once delivered to the saints." 
 Dr Crawford held a high place among the ablest 
 preachers of the Gospel in our National Church. 
 This is attested by the great and long -continued 
 
vi Prefatory Note, 
 
 acceptance he enjoyed in Edinburgh, and especially in 
 the large, intelligent, and influential congregation to 
 which he ministered, as well as by the singular esti- 
 mation in which he was held by his clerical brethren 
 of all shades of opinion in Scotland. What was said 
 of one of the Reformers may be most truly said of 
 him : "He was the doctor of divines, or at least of 
 the learned, the intelligent, and the serious. He did 
 better than descend to the level of the thoughtless 
 and frivolous. He strove, and often with success, to 
 raise them to his own," " Clear, direct, and com- 
 pact, without oratorical show, but full of moral force, 
 his discourses descended on his hearers like a steady, 
 fertilising shower of rain on the ground in spring." 
 By his grasp of intellect and warmth of heart, — by his 
 earnest commendation of the truth as it is in Jesus, 
 combined with careful avoidance of exaggeration and 
 unreality, — by his powers of searching analysis, patient 
 thought, vigorous argument, and persuasive reasoning, 
 — he could not fail to awaken the interest, sustain the 
 attention, and engage the hearts of those who regu- 
 larly attended on his ministry. And in the course 
 of nearly forty years, from the time when as a stu- 
 dent he first heard Dr Crawford preach, down to 
 the last occasion on which he had the privilege of 
 assisting him at the communion in the little chapel 
 in Elder Street, the writer of this notice has met 
 with no one to whom he has felt himself so drawn 
 alike by the beauty of his character and the ability 
 of his ministrations. A. F. M. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. THE PREACHING OF THE CROSS, ... I 
 
 II. god's best gift the pledge of every other, . 23 
 
 III. THINGS WHICH ANGELS DESIRE TO LOOK INTO, . 38 
 IV, THE SON OF GOD PLEADING WITH THE SONS OF 
 
 MEN, ...... 57 
 
 V. EARNEST RELIGION NOT MADNESS, . . .76 
 
 VI. RETRIBUTION A LAW OF GOD's MORAL GOVERNMENT, 98 
 
 VII. CHRIST THE GIVER OF REST, . . . II7 
 
 VIII. faith's VICTORY OVER THE WORLD, . . 135 
 
 IX. THE UNBELIEF OF THOMAS, . . . 156 
 
 PART I. — CHRIST REMOVES THE UNBELIEF. 
 
 X. THE UNBELIEF OF THOMAS, . . . 174 
 PART II. — CHRIST JUDGES THE UNBELIEVER. 
 
 XI. THE UNCHANGEABLENESS OF CHRIST, . . 198 
 
 xiL Christ's living epistles, . . . .215 
 
 xiiL Paul's obtaining mercy a pattern of Christ's 
 
 long-suffering, .... 236 
 
 xiv. martha and mary, . . . .255 
 
 xv. the constraining love of christ, . . 277 
 
 xvi. self-dedication and christian liberality, . 299 
 
 xvii, the sabbath a gift of god, . , -319 
 
 xviii. faith, hope, and charity, . . , 342 
 
 xix. things not seen and eternal, , . -357 
 
THE 
 
 PREACHING OF THE CROSS. 
 
 " The preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness ; but unto us 
 which are saved it is the power of God." — i Cor. i. i8. 
 
 The sovereignty of God is in nothing more remark- 
 able than in His choice of means for accomplishing 
 His purposes. Often have we cause to say of Piim 
 in this respect, that His ways are not as our ways. 
 Both in His works of providence and of grace, 
 results the most wonderful are frequently brought 
 about by means apparently the most inadequate to 
 produce them. Thus is it made to appear that 
 God is all in all ; and even the least reflecting minds 
 are constrained to look beyond the machinery of 
 second causes, and to recognise the working of that 
 Almighty Hand by which the whole is governed and 
 directed. 
 
 Of this we have a notable example in the early 
 propagation of the Gospel. The means employed in 
 this instance, to accomplish the mightiest revolution 
 which history has ever recorded, were of all others 
 the least likely, in man's judgment, to be productive 
 of any such marvellous result. The foolish things of 
 
2 The Preaching of the Cross. 
 
 the world were chosen to confound the wise, and the 
 weak things of the world to confound the mighty. 
 The efforts of a few humble peasants of Galilee — pos- 
 sessed of no worldly riches, armed with no temporal 
 power, endowed with no human learning, opposed 
 by all the interests, passions, and prejudices of those 
 to whom they preached, and visited everywhere with 
 mockery and persecution — were yet, in the course of 
 a few years, instrumental in " turning the world up- 
 side down," in baffling its might, confounding its wis- 
 dom, humbling its pride, and subduing its enmity ; in 
 overthrowing those long-established institutions and 
 those prevailing superstitions which had been for ages 
 cherished and revered, and raising upon their ruins 
 a new system utterly opposed to them alike in its 
 spirit and its tendency. 
 
 Here assuredly, if anywhere, it may be said the 
 " arm of the Lord has been revealed." The marvel- 
 lous change produced by agents, apparently so inade- 
 quate to its accomplishment, can be accounted for in 
 no other manner, than by ascribing it to that Almighty 
 Being who was pleased to accompany their preaching 
 with the clearest displays of miraculous power, and 
 with the mightiest demonstration of the Holy Spirit. 
 
 To this remarkable instance of the Divine power 
 attaining its ends by means the most unpromising, 
 the Apostle Paul makes allusion in the text. He is 
 led to do so, in order to correct the errors which in 
 those days were prevalent among the Corinthians. 
 He knew that an inordinate delisfht in the eraces of 
 rhetoric and the speculations of philosophy, to which 
 certain of their teachers made very high pretensions, 
 was one great cause of those lamentable divisions by 
 
The Preaching of the Cross. 3 
 
 which the Church at Corinth was torn asunder. And 
 accordingly, he sets himself to show how little stress 
 was to be laid on these accomplishments. This he 
 illustrates by referring to the choice which God 
 made of preachers who were altogether destitute of 
 them, but who were yet in His providence rendered 
 effectual in destroying the wisdom of the wise, and 
 bringing to nothing the understanding of the prudent. 
 " Where is the wise ? " he asks ; " where is the 
 scribe ? where is the disputer of this world ? Hath 
 not God made foolish the wisdom of this world ? " 
 The wisdom of this world was thus shown to be vain 
 and unprofitable, when even its highest results were 
 compared with those which He is able to produce, 
 not only without it, but actually in defiance of it. It 
 was indeed so. For " after that in the wisdom of 
 God" — in the midst of the brightest displays of 
 Divine wisdom by which they were on every side 
 surrounded — " the world by wisdom knew not God, 
 it pleased God by the foolishness of preachi^ig'^ — for 
 so carnal men are ready to esteem it — it pleased God 
 by this apparently weak and despised instrument, " to 
 save them that believe." " Because the foolishness 
 of God is wiser than men ; and the weakness of God 
 is stronger than men." 
 
 Paul himself, it is true — differing in this respect 
 from his fellow-labourers — was a learned man, a man 
 of strong natural talents, expanded and cultivated by 
 the most liberal education. But, as he here reminds 
 the Corinthians, he made no ostentatious parade of 
 these human endowments and accomplishments, in 
 executing the ministry intrusted to him. He came 
 among them, " not with the excellency'"of speech," but 
 
4 The Preaching of the Cross. 
 
 with all simplicity, " declaring to them the testimony 
 of God." " His preaching" was "not with the en- 
 ticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration 
 of the Spirit and of power," — " that their faith should 
 not stand in the wisdom of man, but in the power of 
 God." 
 
 Good cause, indeed, had he to adopt such a course. 
 For he knew that a plain and simple exhibition of the 
 truth as it is in Jesus was the means which God Him- 
 self had appointed, and which He might be expected 
 to bless for the conviction, comfort, and edification of 
 believers. Worldly men might despise and reject it ; 
 they might count it foolishness, and treat it with de- 
 rision ; but still the promise of the Lord would re- 
 main sure : " My word shall not return unto me void, 
 but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it 
 shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it." For, 
 as he assures us in the text, " The preaching of the 
 cross is to them that perish foolishness ; but unto us 
 which are saved it is the power of God." 
 
 By " the preaching of the Cross " we are here to 
 understand not the mere statement of our Lord's 
 crucifixion as a matter of fact, but the declaration of 
 it as a most essejztial point of doctrine. This doctrine 
 of the Cross, as the most essential subject of St Paul's 
 preaching, is what I now propose more particularly 
 to consider. 
 
 In what way those persons, who regard the death 
 of Christ as that of a mere self-sacrificing martyr in 
 the cause of truth, are to account for the prominence 
 assigned to it in the text, and in other passages of a 
 like nature, it is no very easy matter to conceive. It 
 
The Preaching of the Cross. 5 
 
 is indeed true, that, when suffering upon the cross, 
 the Author of our holy reHgion confirmed in the 
 most affecting manner the truth of His testimony 
 by the shedding of His blood. But, then, the same 
 thing might be said of Stephen, and of James, and 
 of many other Christian martyrs, to whose sufferings 
 no such importance has been attached; Besides, we 
 know that the ignominious death of Christ, instead 
 of being regarded in primitive times as a strong con- 
 firmation of the truth of His Gospel, was for a long 
 period one of the greatest obstacles with which the 
 Gospel had to contend. It was " unto the Jews a 
 stumbling-block, and unto the Greeks foolishness.'' 
 And, therefore, the frequency with which it is alluded 
 to, the prominent manner in which it is brought for- 
 ward, and the triumph of exultation with which it is 
 regarded by the early propagators of Christianity, 
 cannot otherwise be reasonably accounted for, than 
 on the ground which they have themselves assigned, 
 that the death of Jesus is in reality " the power of 
 God unto salvation," and that " we have redemption 
 through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, accord- 
 ing to the riches of His grace." Apart from the., 
 saving efficacy which belongs to it, the conduct of the 
 Apostles, in so conspicuously setting forth this great 
 stumbling-block of the crucifixion, could be considered 
 in no other light than a wanton and needless provo- 
 cation of their adversaries. 
 
 You see from the text how paramount is the im- 
 portance which St Paul attaches to the doctrine of 
 the Cross. He speaks of it as if it constituted the 
 very sum and substance of the Gospel. No one 
 would ever designate a religious system by that 
 
6 The Preaching of the Cross. 
 
 Avhich is but a secondary or immaterial part of it. 
 And therefore, when St Paul designates his Gos- 
 pel, by way of eminence, as " the preaching of the 
 Cross," he evidently points to " salvation through 
 the death of Christ " as the grand peculiarity which 
 distinguished it. 
 
 In this respect the text is in perfect harmony with 
 the general strain and spirit of the Apostle's doctrine. 
 Thus, in speaking of the subject of his ministry, he 
 says " we preach Christ crucifiedl^ — putting the cruci- 
 fied Christ for the whole Gospel. And, again, he 
 says, " I delivered unto you first of all, that which 
 I also received, that Christ died for our sins accord- 
 ing to the Scriptures." The initiatory rite of Chris- 
 tian baptism, he styles in the same spirit, a baptism 
 into the ''death" of Christ; the adversaries of the 
 Gospel he represents as "-enemies of the Cross of 
 Christ;''' and the persecution with which the early 
 believers were so cruelly visited, he calls a '' pci'secii- 
 tion for the Cross of Ch^'ist!' Nay, so strongly was he 
 impressed with the primary importance of this article 
 of the Christian doctrine, that he expresses in one 
 place his determination " not to know anything save 
 Jesus Christ and Him crucified;" and exclaims in 
 another place, " God forbid that I should glory, save 
 in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ " ! 
 
 We are not, indeed, to conclude from these pas- 
 sages, that no other topic than the atonement ever 
 found admission into the discourses of the Apostle. 
 We have only to read his epistles in order to see how 
 careful he was " rightly to divide the word of truth," 
 how bold in " declaring the whole counsel of God," 
 how anxious to " keep back nothing that was profit- 
 
The Preaching of the Cross. 7 
 
 able." And even in preaching salvation through the 
 Cross, he does not overlook those circumstances in the 
 character of God, and in the condition of fallen man, 
 that rendered such a scheme of salvation necessary 
 — nor those exercises of faith and of repentance by 
 which alone its benefits were to be secured — nor those 
 high hopes and precious consolations which it served 
 in rich abundance to adminster — nor, in fine, those ob- 
 ligations to a holy life, which it tended with peculiar 
 efficacy to enforce. At the same time, it is evident 
 from the text, that this doctrine of redemption by the 
 death of Christ was that grand peculiarity in the 
 Apostle's preaching and doctrine by which, more than 
 by any other, they were characterised ; and that all 
 other topics were regarded by him chiefly in their 
 subserviency or relation to it. Begin where he 
 might, he ended with it ; digress how he might, to 
 it he was sure to return. The Cross of Christ per- 
 vaded all his teaching. It was the very sun and 
 centre of his whole system. And those persons, 
 therefore, who would either explain away this fun- 
 damental article of the Christian faith, or make but a 
 feeble and partial exhibition of it, may rest assured 
 that their Gospel (if it can be so called) is quite an- 
 other Gospel than the Apostle's. Whatever be the 
 faith which they contend for, it certainly has no pre- 
 tensions to be called " the faith once delivered to the 
 saints." 
 
 Such, then, being the grand subject of Paul's 
 preaching, observe the opposite receptions which it 
 meets with. 
 
 Truly was it foretold by Simeon, when he took up 
 the infant Jesus in his arms, that this child was set 
 
8 The Preaching of the Cross. 
 
 for the " fall and rising again of many in Israel." By 
 some He is received, while by others He is rejected. 
 The preaching of His Gospel is to some "a savour of 
 life unto life ; " but to others it is " a savour of death 
 unto death." 
 
 To those by whom the Gospel is rejected, and who 
 are consequently left to perish in their unbelief, the 
 doctrine of the Cross is a highly offensive stumbling- 
 block. They not only disbelieve it, but they despise 
 it. They recognise in it no wisdom, no excellency, no 
 preciousness, no display of the attributes of God, no 
 adaptation to the wants and circumstances of man. 
 It is in their estimation '^ foolishness^^ — vain and use- 
 less, unreasonable and ineffective. It was so in the 
 days of the Apostle. Many among those to whom he 
 preached showed the strongest repugnance to his 
 doctrine. The Jews had been expecting, as their 
 promised Messiah, a temporal Prince, surrounded 
 with all the insignia of worldly greatness ; one who 
 should not only restore their national independence, 
 but lead them on to supremacy and glory. They 
 were sadly disappointed, when called to acknow- 
 ledge him in the person of the " Man of sorrows," 
 appearing in the form of a servant — establishing 
 no kingdom but a spiritual kingdom, aiming at no 
 conquests but conquests over sin, leading through- 
 out a life of poverty and humiliation, and dying 
 at last an ignominious and accursed death. They 
 could not discover any marks of their expected 
 Saviour in "Jesus Christ and Him crucified." The 
 Gentiles, on the other hand, were scarcely less 
 opposed to the reception of "the truth as it is in 
 Jesus." It was a doctrine altogether hostile to their 
 
The Preaching of the Cross. 9 
 
 received opinions and inveterate prejudices. It held 
 out not the smallest toleration to those superstitious 
 notions in which they had been educated, or those 
 vicious practices to which they had been accustomed. 
 It called upon them unsparingly, to renounce their 
 creed, their worship, their habits, their besetting sins. 
 And while the doctrine of the Cross was thus obnox- 
 ious to the mass of unenlightened idolaters, it was in 
 no degree fitted to conciliate the learned and ingeni- 
 ous philosophers of the heathen world. It was char- 
 acterised by none of those abstruse subtleties, nice 
 distinctions, and specious refinements, in which they 
 were accustomed to delight. It did not fall in with 
 their favourite speculations. And instead of lending 
 support to those maxims which were most com- 
 monly received among them, it gave forth against 
 them its unqualified condemnation, denouncing the 
 wisdom of the world as foolishness in the sight of 
 God. There was nothing in the simple preaching of 
 the Cross to please their taste or gratify their pride 
 of intellect. Nay, there was much to mortify and 
 offend them. To look for salvation to one who had 
 not saved Himself — to hope for life from one who 
 had succumbed to death — to expect justification from 
 one who was Himself condemned, — appeared to them 
 the grossest inconsistency and extravagance. 
 
 Such was the reception which the Gospel often 
 met with, when preached in all simplicity by the 
 Apostle ; and such, alas ! is the reception which it 
 still meets with, from many of those who hear it at 
 the present day. The offence of the Cross has by no 
 means been removed. There are but too many even 
 now, to whom it is a stumbling-block. 
 
lo The Preaching of the Cross. 
 
 The doctrine of "the Cross" is truly, in some respects, 
 a mysterious doctrine. It lias in it heights too lofty to 
 be scanned, and depths too profound to be fathomed. 
 And those men, accordingly, whose pride will not ac- 
 knowledge the limited compass of their own faculties, 
 or admit that there can be anything even in the dis- 
 pensations of the unsearchable God but what is fully 
 level to their comprehension, are not disposed to the 
 reception of a doctrine which is beyond all contro- 
 versy a " great mystery of godliness," and does not 
 profess to be anything else. The doctrine of the 
 Cross, too, is eminently a humbling doctrine, — hum- 
 j bling not only to our intellectual but to our spiritual 
 pride. It takes its stand on the universal and 
 thorough depravity of the natural heart of man. It 
 proclaims the utter emptiness of human merit. It 
 leaves no room for boasting. It wounds our pride by 
 the humiliating discovery, that all our fancied excel- 
 lences and attainments are less than nothlnof and 
 vanity in the sight of God. And those men, accord- 
 ingly, who would fain go about to establish a right- 
 eousness of their own, and who cannot brook the 
 mortifying thought of being wholly indebted to the 
 grace of God and to the merits of Christ for their 
 acceptance, are ever ready to stumble at this rock 
 of offence. 
 
 Nor must it be forgotten, that the doctrine of the 
 Cross constitutes in the hicrhest decree a " doctrine 
 according to godliness." It proclaims in the most 
 impressive manner the exceeding sinfulness of sin. 
 It inculcates the necessity of holiness, in terms the 
 most uncompromising, and by motives of the most 
 unquestionable force. It gives us, not only a cross 
 
The Preaching of the Cross. 1 1 
 
 to trust to, but a cross to carry, — requiring of us the 
 crucifying of the flesh with all its evil appetites and 
 affections. And, hence it is not to be wondered at, 
 that sinful men should regard a doctrine so eminently 
 holy and mortifying in its practical tendency, with ex- 
 treme aversion. On all these accounts '* the preach- 
 ing of the Cross " is still esteemed as " foolishness by 
 them that perish." And the statement in the context 
 is no less applicable now than it was at the time 
 when it was written, — that ** the natural man receiv- 
 eth not the things of the Spirit of God : for they are 
 foolishness unto him : neither can he know them, be- 
 cause they are spiritually discerned." 
 
 But, while the doctrine of " Christ crucified " is 
 thus by many rejected and despised, there are others 
 from whom, by Divine grace, it meets with a very 
 opposite reception. 
 
 " Unto them which are saved, it is the power of 
 God." Its influence is felt, and its excellence appre- 
 ciated by all who have any personal interest in the 
 great salvation with which it is connected. Their 
 once darkened minds have been enlightened, and 
 their once proud hearts have been humbled by the 
 grace of God. No longer is the Gospel hid from 
 them. No longer do they despise and disregard it. 
 Meekly do they receive it. Confidently do they rest 
 upon it. Triumphantly do they rejoice and glory in 
 it. And gladly can they bear their testimony regard- 
 ing it, that, instead of being " foolishness," it is of a 
 truth " the power of God unto salvation to every one 
 that believeth." 
 
 That such is indeed the case, no man who has been 
 brought to a right apprehension of the truth can en- 
 
1 2 The Preaching of the Cross. 
 
 tertain a doubt. The astonishing fact, that the well- 
 beloved Son of God was crucified as an atonement 
 for the sins of the world, presents to us views of the 
 Divine character so affecting, with calls to repentance 
 so awakening, motives to holy obedience so constrain- 
 ing, grounds of comfort and reliance so encouraging, 
 that the more clearly and simply it is stated so much 
 the more powerfully is it fitted, by Divine grace, to 
 turn the soul from darkness unto light, and from the 
 power of Satan unto God. 
 
 Nowhere else do we perceive so clearly the holy 
 and unbending majesty of the Divine justice as 
 here, where it is harmoniously blended with the free- 
 ness and fulness of the Divine mercy on the cross of 
 Christ. Nowhere else is the authority of the law of 
 God so highly honoured and magnified as here, where 
 all its terms are fulfilled, all its penalties borne, all its 
 curses silenced. Nowhere else have we so forcible a 
 manifestation at once of the infinite value of the im- 
 mortal soul, and of the exceeding sinfulness of sin, as 
 here, where " a price all price beyond " is exacted and 
 paid as the ransom of transgressors. Nowhere else 
 have we so affecting a display of the tenderness and 
 richness of the Divine love, as here, where we find a 
 justly offended God addressing Himself in mercy to 
 His sinful creatures, — conferring on them the choicest 
 gift, — extending to them the freest grace, — confirming 
 to them the most precious promises, — quieting all the 
 alarms of conscious guilt with proffers of love and as- 
 surances of pardon, — disarming the long -alienated 
 mind of all its gloomy suspicions and forebodings, — 
 drawing us unto Himself in sweet attraction, and 
 constraining us to live no longer unto ourselves, but 
 
The Preaching of the Cross. 13 
 
 unto Him who died for us and rose again. Yes ! 
 there is in the doctrine of the Cross, when aided by 
 the demonstration of the Spirit, a quickening, com- 
 forting, and sanctifying influence, such as all the nat- 
 ural enmity and corruption of the human heart are 
 unable to withstand. And those persons know noth- 
 ing of it as they ought to know, who have not found 
 it to be, in their own experience, " mighty through 
 God to the pulling down of strongholds ; casting down 
 every high thing that exalteth itself against the know- 
 ledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought 
 to the obedience of Christ." 
 
 In proof of this prevailing efficacy of the Gospel, 
 I might appeal to the marvellous success with which 
 its early propagation was attended. For you know 
 that the preaching of " Christ crucified " was the 
 simple yet most efficient instrument, with which the 
 fishermen of Galilee were furnished for the conver- 
 sion and regeneration of the world. It was this that 
 shook the fabrics of idolatry, — silencing the lying ora- 
 cles of superstition, baffling all the sophistries of false 
 philosophy, and all the might of principalities and 
 powers, — that forced on its way in every region of the 
 earth, in spite of all the bitter enmity and persecution 
 with which it was resisted, — and that gained every- 
 where a multitude of devoted converts, who were 
 led to glory in nothing save the Cross of Christ. 
 
 I might also appeal, in confirmation of the same 
 truth, to the history of the Christian Church in all 
 subsequent ages. For wherever Christianity has 
 flourished, it has been by " the preaching of the 
 Cross." This is the means which God has always 
 owned and blessed for the accomplishment of His 
 
14 The Preaching of the Cross. 
 
 gracious purposes. In proportion as this essential 
 truth has been fully, simply, and faithfully proclaimed, 
 have the interests of pure religion been promoted ; 
 and in proportion as it has been kept back, or unduly 
 qualified and diluted, the cause of vital godliness has 
 been found to languish. 
 
 Or, yet again, I might point to the achievements 
 of missionary exertion at the present day, as farther 
 proofs of the efficacy of this precious doctrine. For 
 " the preaching of the Cross " is still found to be of 
 all instruments the most powerful in making glad the 
 moral wilderness, enlightening the " dark places of 
 the earth which are full of the habitations of cruelty," 
 and leading the abject votaries of heathenism to cast 
 away the gods of their forefathers, and to renounce 
 lying vanities which cannot profit, for Him who alone 
 maketh wise unto salvation. 
 
 Happily, however, we are not obliged to have re- 
 course to ancient times or distant regions, for proof of 
 the mighty efficacy of the Gospel. Every believer 
 has in himself, and is in himself a living witness of it. 
 Every true Christian feels in his own heart, and 
 proves from day to day by his own conduct, that the 
 doctrine of the Cross is verily "the power of God." 
 Yes ! the influence which this precious truth exerts on 
 the mind of him who is persuaded of it, is such as no 
 other principle can produce. In vain are all the les- 
 sons of morality, weak are all the terrors of the law, 
 as compared with the mighty energy of the Cross of 
 Christ. It is " the power of God " to convince 7is, — 
 displaying our guilt in colours the most affecting, and 
 denouncing sin as that abominable and accursed thino- 
 which God's own Son must suffer to atone for. It is 
 
The Preaching of the Cross. 15 
 
 " the power of God " to convert us, melting the hard 
 heart into penitence, subduing the enmity of the car- 
 nal mind against God, and prompting the disaffected 
 spirit to cease from its warfare and return to its alle- 
 giance. It is " the power of God " to tranquillise us, 
 quieting all the fears of conscious guilt, taking away 
 the oppressive burden of our iniquities, and filling the 
 soul with all joy and peace in believing. It is " the 
 power of God " to comfort and encourage us amidst 
 all the trials and troubles of this mortal state, assur- 
 ing us of a reconciled Father who chastens us, not in 
 anger, but in mercy — of a compassionate High Priest 
 ever pleading for us, and ever touched with the feel- 
 ing of our infirmities — and of a heavenly inheritance 
 obtained for us, with which all our present toils and 
 tribulations are not worthy to be compared. It is 
 also " the power of God " to sanctify iis, by setting 
 before us a manifestation of Divine love, which no 
 amount of service we can ever render in the shape of 
 holy obedience can requite ; and at the same time 
 securing in our behalf those prevailing influences of 
 the Holy Spirit, by which alone the dominion of sin 
 can be subdued, and the reign of holiness established 
 and promoted. Thus does the believer furnish in his 
 own experience a loving testimony to the statement 
 in the text. The life, which he now lives in the body, 
 is a life of faith in the Son of God, who loved him and 
 gave Himself for him. And every step of ad- 
 vancement in his Christian course is just an addi- 
 tional evidence afforded by him, that the ^'preach- 
 ing of the Cross is to them that are saved the power 
 of Godr 
 
 There are, indeed, some persons to be met with at 
 
1 6 TJie Preaching of the Cross. 
 
 the present day who speak as if this doctrine of the 
 Cross had lost the power originally possessed by it, and 
 who greatly desiderate some improved form or fresh 
 developmejit (as they are pleased to call it) of Christi- 
 anity, to suit the present advanced stage of human 
 knowledge. The Gospel, they tell us, as hitherto pro- 
 claimed among us, has served its day — but that day 
 is gone by. It is now effete, obsolete, and ineffective. 
 Some fresher and more vigorous manifestation of it is 
 indispensable. The same old-fashioned doctrines, set 
 forth in the same old-fashioned way, which might suit 
 well enough the first Christians 1800 years ago, or 
 even the Reformed Churches 300 years ago, when 
 just emerging from the darkness of Popery, cannot 
 be held sufficient to meet the new exigencies and 
 tendencies of the present more enlightened and in- 
 quiring age. And why (they ask with an air of tri- 
 umph) — why should not Christianity be allowed to 
 partake, as well as other branches of knowledge, in 
 the general advancement ? Shall the march of intel- 
 lect here alone be checked ? Shall science and art 
 go on from year to year, extending their boundaries, 
 correcting their systems, maturing their discoveries, 
 and improving their applications, while religion alone 
 is obliged to stand still, admitting of no fresh, adapta- 
 tions or amendments ? 
 
 Now, brethren, in meeting all such views (as we 
 needs must) with a firm and uncompromising opposi- 
 tion, we are not concerned to deny that much has been 
 already done, and that much still remains to be done, 
 by a careful study of the original languages of Holy 
 Scripture, — by a wise application of the principles of 
 criticism, — by a diligent use of the discoveries and re- 
 
The PreacJiing of the O'oss. 1 7 
 
 searches of historians, geographers, and travellers, in 
 so far as they bear on matters recorded in the sacred 
 volume ; — that by these and like means, much has al- 
 ready been done and much still remains to be accom- 
 plished, in the way of expounding and illustrating 
 the Scriptures, removing their difficulties, explaining 
 their allusions, reconciling their apparent incongrui- 
 ties, and bringing out their full meaning. But we 
 utterly deny that by such means, or by any means, 
 the main facts of Christianity can be modified, or its 
 principles changed, or its morality amended. Those 
 who think so, overlook the wide distinction between 
 human discoveries and Divine revelations. The great 
 truths of Christianity are not matters of human dis- 
 covery, in the same sense as the truths of astronomy 
 or of chemistry, so as, like these, to be susceptible 
 from age to age of ever-increasing corrections and 
 enlargements. They are truths directly revealed to tis 
 from heaven ; and as originally given to those inspired 
 men, whom God was pleased to employ for their pro- 
 mulgation, they were given at once^ in all their fulness 
 and maturity, so as to be thenceforward incapable of 
 being in any way supplemented or improved. It is 
 perfectly true that there was a gradual development 
 of revealed truth, previous to the days of Christ and 
 His Apostles^ when God, at sundry times, and in divers 
 manners, spake under the Old Testament dispensa- 
 tion by the prophets. This development, however, 
 was made by God Himself, revealing more or less of 
 His Divine will to one prophet after another, as age 
 succeeded age, and not by any rationalising on the 
 part of man, whereby the truths of God were modi- 
 fied or expanded. And, whereas the previous dis- 
 
 B 
 
1 8 TJie Preaching of the Cross. 
 
 pensations of religion, which were given to the world 
 before the days of Christ, foretold their own removal 
 and displacement, and the coming of the Christian 
 dispensation to supersede them ; the Gospel is so far 
 from uttering any like prediction, that it claims to 
 continue while sun and moon endure — declares that 
 all generations of men shall be blessed by it — exhorts 
 believers to " contend earnestly for the faith once de- 
 livered to the saints " — and denounces a curse upon 
 those who shall presume in any way to alter, abridge, 
 or supplement it. 
 
 It is idle, then, to talk of any such thing as a re- 
 modelling of the Gospel, or a fresh development of 
 its essential truths, to suit the alleged exigencies of 
 any particular period, or of any peculiar condition of 
 human society. The Gospel is not a matter of hu- 
 tnan discovery or invention, which one set of men have 
 found out by their own inquiries, and which another 
 set of men may, by further inquiries, improve upon, 
 so as to leave its original discoverers far behind them. 
 No ! It is a matter of divine revelation, which God 
 has been pleased to disclose for the enlightenment of 
 mankind in every successive generation — which its 
 Divine Author, at His ascension into heaven, com- 
 manded to be preached in all the world, and to every 
 creature, with the assurance that He would be ever 
 present with the preachers of it, even to the end of the 
 world, and which, therefore, as being perfect and en- 
 tire when at first communicated, requires not, and 
 admits not of, any after improvements. We must 
 take the Gospel, therefore, and be content with it, 
 just as we find it set forth in the New Testament. 
 We cannot expect to get clearer or fuller notions of it 
 
The Preaching of the Cross. 19 
 
 than those inspired men had through whom it was at 
 first communicated. In other branches of knowledge 
 we may turn away from the writings of the first dis- 
 coverers, and prefer to study the more recent works 
 of those whose investigations are more thorough and 
 complete. But in regard to the knowledge of the 
 Gospel we must reverse this process altogether ; we 
 must go back to those through whom it was at first 
 revealed, and must test the expositions of all who 
 have subsequently treated of it, by their agreement 
 with the doctrine of these its inspired promulgators. 
 The nearer we can get to their mind, or rather to the 
 mind of the Holy Spirit as expressed by them, so 
 much the better. And instead of aiming at new 
 developments of the sacred doctrine, we must stead- 
 fastly adhere to and " earnestly contend for the faith 
 once delivered to the saints." 
 
 Nor let it be thought that there is any real call for 
 those modifications of Christianity, which are desider- 
 ated to meet the alleged exigencies of the age in which 
 we live. The march of intellect has not yet carried 
 us beyond those common ills and common wants of 
 old humanity, for which the Gospel, as hitherto re- 
 ceived among us, has ever been found to be the only 
 effectual remedy. Notwithstanding all the advanced 
 knowledge, and high culture, and stirring enterprise, 
 for which the present age is so remarkably distin- 
 guished, the men who now live are still the same 
 guilty, corrupt, weak, mortal, and accountable crea- 
 tures which the fallen children of Adam have ever 
 been. Nor has the Gospel, as at first preached by the 
 Apostles, lost any whit of its suitableness to man's 
 condition. On its first promulgation, it was found to 
 
20 The Preaching of the Cross. 
 
 be adapted to men of every variety of character and 
 attainment — to the learned rabbis of Jerusalem, to the 
 subtle disputants of Athens, to the luxurious inhabit- 
 ants of Corinth, and to the savage natives of Malta. It 
 was so then, and it is so still. The lapse of time has 
 not in the least impaired the strength or the grace, 
 which originally belonged to it. It is still, as much 
 as ever, " the glorious Gospel of the blessed God." 
 And God forbid that we should ever be ashamed of 
 it. It is mighty i-//// for the pulling down of strong- 
 holds ; it is still the power of God and the wisdom of 
 God unto salvation, to every one that believeth. 
 
 Tell us not, then, of any new Gospel as necessary 
 to suit our present tendencies and requirements. We 
 want no other and no better Gospel, than that old 
 Gospel of " Christ and Him crucified/' which has 
 been believed in and gloried in, from its first estab- 
 lishment. The Gospel which saved Paul, and Peter, 
 and John ; the Gospel which saved Jerome, Augustine, 
 and Chrysostom ; the Gospel which saved Luther, 
 and Calvin, and Knox, and Howe, and Owen, and 
 Baxter, and Bunyan, and other giant theologians of 
 former times — in comparison with whom it is no dis- 
 paragement to say that many of those who nowadays 
 prate of their having outgrown its fitness for them, 
 are the merest pigmies, — is a good enough Gospel (de- 
 pend upon it) ior you and for me. Those who would 
 seek another' mistake their real want, which is, not so 
 much a new development of heavenly truth, as a new 
 heart to receive the old truth in the love of it, so as 
 to find, in their own blessed experience, as all who 
 have fairly made the trial have ever found, that the 
 Cross of Christ, though esteemed foolishness by them 
 
The Preaching of the Cross. 2 1 
 
 that perish, is to them that are saved the power of 
 God. 
 
 Allow me, in conclusion, with all sobriety, to re- 
 mind you, that if " the preaching of the Cross be fool- 
 ishness," it is so " to them that perish',' and that " if 
 our Gospel be hid," it is " hid to them that are lost." 
 Yes ! it is even so ; and if there be truth in God's un- 
 erring word, it cannot indeed be otherwise. For the 
 Cross of Christ is the only provision which God hath ; 
 made for the redemption of a lost world. And hence, 
 if this only provision be despised, there is no alter- 
 native but that we continue in the same state of 
 guilt, and misery, and condemnation, in which all sin- 
 ners would justly have been left to perish had no such 
 method of salvation been revealed at all. 
 
 Wherefore, let me earnestly beseech you that ye 
 receive not the grace of God in vain. For how shall 
 you escape, if you neglect so great salvation ? 
 
 But, I trust that there are many now hearing me, 
 who can bear witness, from their own experience, to 
 the blessed influence of that Gospel which we preach — 
 many whose once darkened minds it has enlightened, 
 whose once troubled spirits it has comforted, whose 
 once corrupt dispositions it has sanctified, whose once 
 stubborn hearts it has brought into subjection — many 
 who esteem it as all their joy and all their glory, and 
 who are in themselves living monuments of its saving 
 power. 
 
 Let me beseech all such, to cling with full purpose 
 of heart to that Gospel whose powerful and salutary 
 influence they have thus experienced. Prize it yet 
 more highly. Hold by it yet more steadfastly. Glory 
 
22 The Preaching of the Cross. 
 
 in it yet more triumphantly. Continue still, yea more 
 than ever, to count all things but loss for the excel- 
 lency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus your Lord. 
 And let it be your care, at the same time, to adorn 
 in all things the doctrine of your God and Saviour. 
 Remember that the honour of our most holy relig- 
 ion, in the estimation of the world, is to a very great 
 degree bound up with the character and conduct of 
 those who profess it. Strive so to live and so to act, 
 that nothing more may be necessary than just to 
 point to your Christian conversation, in order to stop 
 the mouth of any gainsayer who would controvert 
 the doctrine of the text, and to prove that the Cross 
 of Christ, so meanly thought of by them that perish, 
 is in reality to us who are saved " the power of 
 God and the wisdom of God." 
 
23 
 
 II. 
 
 GOD'S BEST GIFT THE PLEDGE OF EVERY OTHER. 
 
 *' He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall 
 He not with Him also freely give us all things ? " — Romans, viii. 32. 
 
 We have here an argument for confidence in God that 
 is fitted, if anything can be, to inspire us with the 
 livehest hopes and the largest expectations. The form 
 of a question, in which the Apostle puts it, shows us 
 how clear and how convincing he felt it to be. He 
 does not think it necessary to make any positive affir- 
 mation on the subject. He puts a question, without 
 giving any reply ; as if well assured that there was 
 but one answer which could by possibility be returned 
 to it, — and indeed there is but one. The matter is 
 too plain for ignorance to mistake or prejudice to 
 pervert it. "He that spared not His own Son, but 
 delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with 
 Him also freely give us all things ? " " How shall He 
 not ? " It is inconceivable that He should not. The 
 boon so inestimably precious, which He has already 
 conferred, is a sure pledge of every other blessing 
 which our necessities may require, or which His in- 
 exhaustible goodness can bestow. 
 
24 God's best Gift 
 
 I. The force of this argument lies in the amazing 
 sacrifice which God is here, as elsewhere, represented 
 as having made for our redemption. 
 
 It was " His own Son " that He gave for us, — " His 
 own " in a sense that is altogether peculiar ; not a Son 
 of God like others, who are so styled as bearing some 
 general features of resemblance to Him, — as created 
 by His power and sustained by His providence, or 
 as regenerated and adopted by His grace, — but " His 
 own Son " by identity of nature and intimacy of union 
 with Himself; " the brightness of His glory and the 
 express image of His person ; " His " eternal Son," 
 "the Word," who in the beginning was with God and 
 was God ; His " beloved Son," in whom He is well 
 pleased. 
 
 Even to the most exalted of the heavenly hosts 
 this title cannot be griven in the sense in which the 
 Saviour bears it. He has " by inheritance a more 
 excellent name than they.'' " For to which of the 
 angels hath God said at any time. Thou art my Son, 
 this day have I begotten thee ? " But this He said 
 to Christ ; and of Him it is emphatically written, that 
 He is " the ONLY-begotten Son of God," so as to be- 
 token that His Sonship is altogether exclusive and 
 tcniqtie, involving a relationship to the Father which 
 cannot be ascribed to any other than Himself alone. 
 
 It is not for tis, indeed, to fathom the deep things 
 of God, so as to explain the precise nature of this 
 relationship. But this much we may say, without by 
 any means pretending to be " wise above that which 
 is written," — that it implies the closest union and 
 affection on the part of those Divine persons between 
 whom it is said to subsist; and that God the Father, 
 
the Pledge of every other. 25 
 
 in not withholding from us ''His own" " beloved" and 
 " only-begotten Son" may justly be held as bestowing 
 on us His choicest gift, and as displaying towards us 
 a " love that passeth knowledge." 
 
 The strength of parental affection is proverbial. 
 How unwilling was Jacob to send Benjamin down to 
 Egypt, although the preservation of his whole family 
 seemed to depend upon it ! Yet Benjamin was not 
 his only son ; he had many others to comfort him in 
 his declining years, even if this beloved one should 
 be taken from him. How tenderly did David con- 
 cern himself for Absalom, his unnatural and rebellious 
 son, when he said to Joab, " Deal gently with the 
 young man for my sake " ! And when he heard of 
 his well-deserved death, how bitterly did he mourn 
 and lament for him ! Yet Absalom was but one of 
 many children, and of them all the least worthy of his 
 father's love. Abraham, it is true, in obedience to 
 the Divine command, was ready to offer up Isaac 
 upon the altar. But God stayed his hand before the 
 offering was consummated, as if such a sacrifice were 
 too great to be exacted from him ; and, graciously 
 taking the will for the deed, said to him, "Now I 
 know that thou lovest me, seeing thou hast not with- 
 held thy son, thine only son, from me." Yet this 
 great sacrifice, for which He commended Abraham, 
 as the highest possible testimony of his love, while 
 yet He suffered not the patriarch to render it, God 
 has Himself made for the sinful race of men, when 
 He " so loved the world as to give His only-begotten 
 Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not 
 perish, but have everlasting life." 
 
 It is here said of God, that "He spared not His 
 
26 God's best Gift 
 
 own Son," — that is to say, He did not withhold Him 
 from us when our necessities required that He should 
 be given up. He did not refuse or hesitate, in His 
 unsearchable counsels, to set apart for us even this 
 precious victim. Nor, when the time of His sacrifice 
 had arrived, did He substitute, as was done in the 
 case of Abraham, any other less costly offering in 
 His room. He sought not to retain Him, but will- 
 ingly surrendered Him. 
 
 No doubt the expression may bear a further mean- 
 ing. It may also signify that God did not exempt 
 Him, although He was His own Son, from the en- 
 durance of aught that was needful to expiate our sins 
 and to secure our everlasting welfare. Not one tear 
 of sorrow, not one groan of anguish, not one circum- 
 stance of labour or of trial, of ignominy or of suffer- 
 ing, was abated. The full amount for which He had 
 become answerable was exacted from Him. And 
 though in His mysterious agony He prayed, with 
 strong crying and tears, that if it were possible, 
 this cup might pass from Him, He was left to drink 
 it even to the dregs. 
 
 This farther meaning, however, is more properly 
 conveyed by another expression, which the Apostle 
 here uses. For, while we are told that God " spared 
 not His own Son," it is added that " He delivered Him 
 up for us all.'' The text does not specify to whom, or 
 to what. No such specification indeed was necessary. 
 We have but to glance at the record of the Saviour's 
 history, while He dwelt on earth as "a man of sor- 
 rows, and acquainted with grief," in order to see into 
 how many hands, and to how great an amount and 
 variety of sufferings, His heavenly Father was pleased 
 
the Pledge of every other. 27 
 
 to deliver Him, His very assumption of our nature 
 was a subjection of Him to the deepest personal 
 humiliation and abasement, when " being in the form 
 of God, and thinking it not robbery to be equal with 
 God, He made Himself of no reputation, and took 
 upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the 
 likeness of men." And what was His after-life but a 
 continued "delivering" of Him to toils and trials, 
 to poverty and reproach, to mockery and insult, to 
 sufferings and distresses, to the enmity of wicked 
 men, the temptations of evil spirits, and (more griev- 
 ous than all) the hidings of His Father's face — and, 
 finally, to the endurance of death itself, in its most 
 painful and ignominious form, upon the cross ? Justly 
 might He have appropriated to Himself the plaintive 
 lamentation of the prophet : " Is it nothing to you, 
 all ye that pass by ? behold, and see, if there be any 
 sorrow like unto my sorrow, wherewith the Lord hath 
 afflicted me in the day of His fierce anger." For it 
 pleased the Father "to bruise Him and to put Him 
 to grief." Whatever of shame or of anguish He un- 
 derwent, was no more and no other than that to the 
 bearing of which. He was " by the determinate coun- 
 sel of God delivered up." And hence, if there was 
 an infinitude of love on the part of our adorable Re- 
 deemer in cheerfully submitting to such sufferings for 
 our sakes, there was no less certainly a love beyond 
 conception, on the part of God, the Father Almighty, 
 in having, for our sakes, consigned to the endurance 
 of them, a Person so dear to Him as His own beloved 
 Son. 
 
 My dear friends, we must not so think of the love 
 of Christ in our redemption, as to overlook or under- 
 
28 God's best Gift 
 
 rate the love of God, the Father who gave Him for us. 
 There are some, who seem to regard the eternal Father 
 as a stern, severe, inexorable Being, who is only moved 
 to pity and befriend us, by the mediation of His Son 
 in our behalf. This is exactly the reverse of the view 
 which Scripture gives us of Him. For, we are there 
 taught that the mediation of the Son, instead of being 
 that which induces God to love us, is the most signifi- 
 cant proof and the fullest commendation of God's free 
 love to us, which could have been afforded. God did 
 not require the obedience and death of Christ in order 
 to make Him merciful towards us, but in order to re- 
 concile the exercise of His mercy with the claims of 
 His justice and the authority of His law. It is not 
 because Christ died, that God loves us. It is, on the 
 contrary, because God loves us, with a tenderness 
 and warmth which no language can express, that He 
 gave His own beloved Son to be the propitiation 
 for our sins. And we must ever regard it, not as 
 the origin, but as the issue and evidence of His ex- 
 ceeding love, that so unspeakable a gift was not 
 spared, and that so inestimable a sacrifice was ren- 
 dered for us. 
 
 II. The manifestation thus given of the love of God 
 is all the more remarkable when we consider in whose 
 behalf it was displayed. It was ''for tis" that God 
 was thus pleased to manifest the riches of His grace, 
 — ''for us " who could not in any way be profitable 
 to Him, — who did not deserve any favour at His 
 hand, who had justly provoked Him, and were ob- 
 stinately estranged from Him; — even ''for us'' sin- 
 ful creatures of the human race, was the only-begotten 
 
the Pledge of every other. 29 
 
 of the Father " dehvered up " to suffer in our stead, 
 the just for the unjust. Nor was it for a few such 
 sinners, but for many, — for sinners of every age and 
 generation, of every race and cHme, of every charac- 
 ter and condition, — for all sinners, without distinc- 
 tion and without exception, who feel their need of 
 the Saviour thus provided, and are heartily willing 
 to receive His offered grace. It is true, the word 
 *' alll' as here used by the Apostle, must be limited to 
 those of whom alone he was speaking — that is to say, 
 to all real Christians, according to the description 
 given of them in the context. But, then, there is noth- 
 ing to exclude any sinner from becoming such. He 
 may, if he will. His own reluctance is the only ob- 
 stacle. The calls of the Gospel are altogether unre- 
 stricted. They are freely addressed to all ; and all, 
 without exception, are not only permitted, but en- 
 treated to comply with them. No man living is en- 
 titled to conclude, that he is not one of those for 
 whom the Saviour was delivered. That Saviour is 
 freely held out to his acceptance. And it must be 
 his own fault if he will not receive the gift, and equally 
 his own fault if, having once received it, he fail to 
 draw from it all the comfort and encouragement, which 
 a gift so precious is fitted to administer, according to 
 the clear and conclusive argument of the text : " He 
 that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up 
 for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely 
 give us all things ? " 
 
 I have already remarked that the form of a ques- 
 tion, in which this inference is put by the Apostle, 
 shows us how clear and how convincing, he felt it to 
 be. It is as if he could not imagine the possibility of 
 
30 God's best Gift 
 
 any one coming to a different conclusion, than that 
 which he had himself arrived at. Nay, it seems as if 
 he were bidding defiance even to the most despond- 
 ing and distrustful Christian, and challenging him, if 
 he can, to harbour or express a doubt regarding the 
 willingness of God the Father, who hath given us His 
 own Son, to give us all things with Him! "How 
 shall He not ? " What is there to prevent Him ? 
 Nay, rather, what is there wanting to prevail with 
 Him ? What is there in God, or what is there in 
 man, that can be supposed to stop the current of His 
 bounty towards those, from whom He has not with- 
 held His own Son ? On the part of God, there can 
 be no lack of munificence ; for, He has shown in be- 
 stowing this, His choicest gift, an exceeding richness 
 of liberality, to the exercise of which no limit can be 
 assigned. All else, that may yet remain to be con- 
 ferred, must be incomparably less precious than the 
 boon He has already given. And with whatever 
 loving-kindnesses He may yet crown us, we cannot 
 possibly think of them as involving any such extent 
 of bounty, or amount of sacrifice, as has been already 
 displayed in the gift of His beloved Son. This we 
 may well consider as the very utmost, which even 
 Divine love could have done in our behalf. And hav- 
 ing done this, we know of no principle, on which God 
 can possibly be conceived to act, that should prompt 
 Him now to withhold from us any other, and neces- 
 sarily minor benefaction, that may, in His judgment, 
 seem needful or expedient for us. 
 
 Now, if it be thus clear, that there is nothing on the 
 part of God, it seems equally clear that there can be 
 
the Pledge of every other. 3 1 
 
 nothing on the part of man, whereby the outgoings of 
 the Divine bounty can be restrained, in behalf of those 
 for whom the Saviour has been deHvered. For let it 
 be supposed, that we are ever so unworthy of the fa- 
 vour, and ever so justly exposed to the wrath of God, 
 all obstacles on any such ground are effectually re- 
 moved by the "unspeakable gift" that has already 
 been conferred upon us. For judge ye, brethren, 
 were we not more unworthy, beyond all proportion, of 
 this inestimable blessing, than we possibly can be of 
 any subsequent benefit ? And if, notwithstanding 
 our poor and ill deserts, this greatest boon has not 
 been withheld, we have no cause to think that our 
 unworthiness will debar us from any other communi- 
 cation of the Father's goodness, which must neces- 
 sarily be inconsiderable as compared with it. But why 
 speak of unworthiness or sinfulness at all, in the case 
 of those for whom the Saviour has been delivered up, 
 and by whom He is cordially and faithfully relied on ? 
 Their sins and demerits, as you well know, are fully 
 expiated. Washed in the blood of Christ, and clothed 
 with His righteousness, they are, thenceforward, made 
 accepted in the Beloved. The gift of the Saviour has 
 altogether changed their relative position towards 
 God. It has reco7idted them to Him, making them His 
 friends (whereas they were formerly His enemies), and 
 has, thereby, put them in a much more favourable situa- 
 tion for obtaining any benefaction at His hands. For 
 the Apostle's argument, in a previous chapter, is irre- 
 sistible, " If when we were enemies, we were reconciled 
 to God by the death of His Son, much more, being 
 reconciled, we shall be saved by His life." Nay more, 
 
32 God's best Gift 
 
 we know that the very purpose, for which the Son of 
 God has been given for us, was, that by His obedi- 
 ence and sufferings He miofht remove those obstruc- 
 tions, that would else have hindered the extension of 
 the Divine mercy to fallen and sinful creatures, such as 
 zve are. And now that He has been " delivered up for 
 us all," there is nothing in the number or heinous- 
 ness of our sins, nothing in the offended majesty of 
 Divine justice, nothing in the violated sanctions of the 
 Divine law, that can stand in the way of our being en- 
 riched with the largest and fullest amount of heavenly 
 blessings which the love of our reconciled Father can 
 bestow. The g7^eat difficulty that seemed to make it 
 hopeless for sinful creatures to receive "all things," 
 or, indeed, to receive anything, at the hands of God, 
 was the providing of aii adequate atonement for them. 
 This difficulty once removed — as it has been most effec- 
 tually by the all-sufficient sacrifice of the Son of God — 
 all else that remains to be done is easy in comparison 
 with it. The yielding up of God's own Son as a 
 ransom for us, — that is the marvel and climax of 
 Divine mercy, beyond which there is no greater that 
 can be thought of. Once persuaded of this, that 
 Jesus Christ the Son of God has been given to us, and 
 given for us, to expiate our sins, and thus make it 
 consistent with the holiness and justice of God to 
 show favour to us, — then there is nothing too great to 
 be expected by us, which infinite riches and goodness 
 can supply. If this " unspeakable gift " has not been 
 denied, it is little in comparison that " all things " 
 should be added to it. Nay, rather, I may say, there 
 is. no addition in the case. For the one gift includes 
 
the Pledge of every other. 33 
 
 the other. In Christ we have all things. We are 
 complete in Him. All fulness dwells in Him; and 
 when we receive Him, we receive His fulness along 
 with Him. It is true, "all .things" are not at once 
 given us with Christ, as regards the actual possession 
 of them. But as regards our right to them, or our 
 interest in them, "all things "are made over to us the 
 moment that we receive the Son. Accordingly, we 
 find it elsewhere written for the comfort and en- 
 couragement of believers : " All things are yours ; 
 whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or 
 life, or death, or things present, or things to come ; 
 all are yours ; and ye are Christ's ; and Christ is 
 God's." 
 
 III. This remark leads me to notice i^g. connection, 
 that is so very plainly indicated in the text, between the 
 great gift of God's own Son, and all other gifts which 
 the Father's goodness will bestow on us. All things, 
 as we are here taught, shall be given us " with 
 Christ." No doubt we are also told that they shall be 
 given ^freely," — that is to say, gratuitously and boun- 
 tifully, — without any parsimonious grudgings or nar- 
 row restrictions, — without any hard stipulations to be 
 fulfilled, or costly price to be paid for the attainment 
 of them. But still they are only to be given us " with 
 Christ." He must be received, if we hope to be par- 
 takers of them. Apart from Hivi, God does not con- 
 fer any blessings. But with Him, He is ready to 
 make all grace abound towards us, and to do for 
 us " exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or 
 think." 
 
 c 
 
34 God's best Gift 
 
 Wherefore, my dear friends, let me earnestly ad- 
 monish as many of you as have cordially received 
 the " unspeakable gift " of a Saviour who has been 
 freely offered to all, to draw from the consideration 
 of it those lessons of trust in the Divine goodness, of 
 submission to the Divine will, and of unfeigned de- 
 votedness to the Divine glory, which it is so evidently 
 fitted to impress upon you. 
 
 Learn from it, I beseech you, to put yo7ir trust m 
 God, as willing to bestow upon you all things that are 
 good. God has done much, in many ways, to win 
 your confidence. But far above all He has ever done 
 for this purpose, is that unequalled commendation 
 of His love, which He made in the gift of His own 
 beloved Son. After this, it would surely be offering 
 Him the highest indignity, and doing Him the gross- 
 est injustice, to doubt His willingness to bless you to 
 the uttermost. Lay aside, then, all gloomy suspicions 
 of Him, all slavish fears, all disquieting doubts. Put 
 710 limit to your confidence and trust in Him. Honour 
 Him by expecting great things at His hands. Of 
 this be assured, that He loves you and cares for you, 
 as never yet did the fondest earthly father love and 
 care for the most cherished of his children. Do you 
 ask a proof of this ? You find it in the text : " He 
 that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up 
 for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give 
 us all things ? " 
 
 Learn also from this subject to be 7neekty and cheer- 
 fully submissive to God's dealings with you, whatever 
 they may be. He has pledged Himself, over and 
 over again, in His Word of truth, to supply all your 
 
the Pledge of every other. 35 
 
 need according to His glorious riches, — to keep back 
 from you no good thing, — and to make all things 
 work together for your good. And in the gift of 
 His own beloved Son, He has given you a pledge of 
 what you may expect from Him, such as ought at 
 once to silence your every doubt of the love He bears 
 to you and the unfailing faithfulness with which He 
 will verify every promise He has made to you. It 
 may very possibly be, that jj/<??/Jr judgment and His of 
 what is truly needful and expedient for you, may not 
 always coincide. But, surely, it is far better that the 
 circumstances of your lot should be ordered by un- 
 erring wisdom, and guided by never - failing love, 
 than by your own short-sighted views and wishes. 
 Whatever may be the blessing you desiderate, you 
 may rest assured that it cannot be withheld, either 
 from a want of power or from a want of love. If 
 God saw it to be really proper or expedient for 
 you, He could, and would lay the world with all its 
 riches at your feet. And if He does not, it must be 
 because He well knows that instead of being profit- 
 able, it would be useless or injurious to you. The 
 same may be said of your trials and distresses. It is 
 only " if need be," that believers are ever found to 
 be in heaviness through manifold afflictions. He 
 chastens them, not for His pleasure, but for their 
 profit, making their sorrows, however grievous while 
 they endure, to yield to them afterwards the peace- 
 able fruit of righteousness. Let it suffice you to 
 know, my dear brethren, that the various events and 
 circumstances of your present condition are numbered 
 among the " all things,'' which He who spared not 
 His own beloved Son has taught you to expect 
 
36 God's best Gift 
 
 from Him. The actual events and circumstances of 
 your lot, whatever they may be, and however they 
 may affect you, — your wants no less than your posses- 
 sions, your losses no less than your gains, your sorrows 
 no less than your comforts, your pains, and disap- 
 pointments, and bereavements, equally with your joys, 
 and successes, and pleasures, — go to make up the ful- 
 ness of that provision which God, in His fatherly 
 goodness hath prepared for you. And it is yo2ir part, 
 in the exercise of a confiding faith, to trace in them 
 all the loving-kindness of your God and Saviour, 
 acknowledging in all of them the wisdom of His deal- 
 ings with you, enjoying in all of them the tokens of 
 His peculiar favour, and deriving from all of them 
 those blessed and holy fruits, which all He gives, 
 and all He requires, and all He takes away, are 
 alike designed to bring forth. 
 
 Finally, my dear friends, learn also from this sub- 
 ject to make proper returns of gratitude and devoted- 
 ncss to that gracious God, who hath dealt so bounti- 
 fully with you. If God did not withhold from you 
 His own beloved Son, and is now ready with Him 
 freely to give you all things, surely there is nothing 
 which you can or will withhold from Him. It must 
 be the study of your whole lives, to honour and serve 
 Him. You will cheerfully give Him your bodies and 
 your souls, your strength, your time, your talents, and 
 your substance, to be appropriated, to His use and 
 consecrated to His glory. What shall you render to 
 the Lord for all His benefits ? What indeed I How 
 poor your warmest acknowledgments, how faint your 
 highest praises, how mean and insignificant your best 
 
the Pledge of every other. 37 
 
 services, when compared with the love of Him to 
 whom they are rendered ! 
 
 Be it your prayer to the God of all grace, that He 
 would Himself dispose and enable you to give your- 
 selves wholly to Him, " a living, holy, and acceptable 
 sacrifice," in return for His best, His "unspeakable 
 gift" to you. Let it be the unfeigned language of 
 your hearts — Lord, we are Thine, and all that we 
 have is Thine ; take us, and make us what Thou 
 wouldst have us be. We owe Thee 02ir all, and we 
 devote our all to Thee ; accept of our poor and un- 
 worthy offering, and let us be Thine only, Thine 
 wholly, Thine now and Thine for ever ! 
 
38 
 
 III. 
 
 THINGS WHICH ANGELS DESIRE TO LOOK INTO. 
 " Which things the angels desire to look into."— i Peter, i. 12. 
 
 The ** things " here spoken of, as furnishing matter 
 of earnest inquiry and contemplation to the Angels, 
 are no other than the mysteries of Redemption. In 
 the previous verses the Apostle had been referring 
 to the things, which the Spirit had testified by the 
 prophets concerning the sufferings of Christ and the 
 glory that should follow, and which the first preachers 
 of the Gospel were then proclaiming "with the Holy 
 Ghost sent down from heaven." And then he adds, 
 with reference to these things, that the " angels desire 
 to look into " them. 
 
 Perhaps, in this statement, there may be an allusion 
 to the attitude of the two cherubim that were placed 
 in the innermost recess of the Jewish tabernacle, 
 overshadowing the ark of the covenant with their 
 wings, and bending down their faces towards this 
 Divine symbol, as if it contained something to excite 
 their deepest interest, and to call forth their most 
 eager and reverent investigation. This posture of the 
 cherubim may be fitly enough considered as an emblem 
 of that fixed attention and searching scrutiny, which 
 
Things which Angels desire to look into. 39 
 
 the wonders of redeeming grace call forth from the 
 hosts of heaven. And that there may be an allu- 
 sion to it in the text, is all the more probable when 
 we consider that the word here translated " to look 
 into'' literally means to stoop down with the view of 
 looking into, or to assume that very attitude of earn- 
 est and devout inquiry, in which the mystic figures 
 above the ark were represented. 
 
 Be this as it may, we are taught in this passage, by 
 no mere type of shadowy or uncertain import, but by 
 a plain and unambiguous statement such as it is quite 
 impossible to misconceive, that the highest orders 
 of intelligent creatures in the universe find in the 
 scheme of man's salvation an appropriate subject, on 
 which their most earnest regards may be intently 
 fixed, and to which their keenest researches may be 
 directed. It occupies their thoughts. It captivates 
 their affections. It moves their wonder. It calls 
 forth their adoration. They stoop down to look into 
 it, bending their high powers to the accurate survey 
 and thorough comprehension of it. Nay, rather, they 
 desire thus to view it, longing to see more and more 
 of its surpassing wonders, and drawing from the 
 exercise an ever - increasing delight, which makes 
 them more and more eager in pursuing it. 
 
 That there is much in the method of our redemp- 
 tion which is calculated thus to rivet the attention, 
 excite the admiration, employ the researches, and en- 
 large the knowledge of these exalted spirits, a very 
 general survey of some of its chief features will, of 
 itself, be sufficient to convince you. 
 
 I. The very circumstance, that any such scheme 
 
40 Things which Angels 
 
 for the recovery of the fallen race of Adam should have 
 bee7i formed, — apart altogether from the means used 
 for its accompHshment, — was in itself fitted to at- 
 tract the special notice and to call forth the keenest 
 scrutiny of the heavenly hosts. 
 
 They had seen their own apostate brethren cast 
 down without hope of mercy to perdition, and had 
 not only acquiesced in the judgment thus inflicted, but 
 had viewed it as a glorious manifestation of the holi- 
 ness and justice of the Godhead. But, now, when 
 man, a creature of an inferior order, though still 
 formed in respect of intellectual and moral faculties 
 after the Divine image, has fallen in like manner from 
 the rectitude of his primal state, and incurred the just 
 penalties of wilful transgression, — instead of seeing 
 him visited with instant destruction from the presence 
 of the Lord and from the glory of His power, they 
 find the great God, against whom he has rebelled, in 
 His own boundless love interposing for his deliver- 
 ance ! How should this be ? Why should fallen man 
 be dealt with, in so different a manner from the fallen 
 angels ? How should it be made consistent with 
 those Divine attributes, which had called for the un- 
 sparing condemnation of the one, to hold out the 
 hope of redemption to the other ? In the case of our 
 apostate race, on what principle was it — not hitherto 
 called into action in behalf of those originally more 
 exalted creatures, their forerunners and seducers 
 in the path of wickedness ■ — that mercy and truth 
 should meet together, righteousness and peace em- 
 brace each other, and that without prejudice to the 
 excellence of the Divine character, the authority of 
 the Divine law, and the stability of the Divine gov- 
 
desire to look into. 41 
 
 ernment, forgiveness and favour should be extended 
 to the rebelHous ? These are questions, which may 
 reasonably be supposed to have excited no small 
 measure of wondering and inquiring interest in the 
 courts of heaven. 
 
 Nor can we doubt, that a scheme of mercy like 
 that of the Gospel, fraught with the richest spirit- 
 ual and heavenly blessings to unnumbered myriads 
 of human beings, is calculated to afford the high- 
 est delight to spirits so purely benevolent as the 
 holy Angels. Dwelling as they do in the immediate 
 presence of the God of love, and reflecting in their 
 own lovinor natures that unmixed oroodness which 
 they behold in Him, we cannot doubt that their 
 sympathies are awakened in behalf of that dispensa- 
 tion of redeeming grace, which is destined to recon- 
 cile and gather into one the things that are in earth 
 and the things that are in heaven, to change the 
 moral aspect of this lower world, to reinstate those 
 sinners who inhabit it, if only they will avail them- 
 selves of the offered mercy, in the full possession of 
 all the blessings they have forfeited — nay, farther, as 
 the Scriptures in some places seem to intimate, to 
 bring them at last to the enjoyment of a blessedness 
 far exceeding aught which even in their original state 
 of unfallen innocence they could have looked for. 
 We are told that " there is joy in the presence of 
 the angels of God over one sinner that repenteth." 
 What, then, must be the emotions of delight with 
 which they survey that wonderful provision which 
 Divine love hath made for the rescue of countless 
 multitudes from destruction, and for raising them to 
 that heavenly glory and felicity, the excellence of 
 
42 Things which Angels 
 
 which the Angels are enabled, from their own blessed 
 experience, so fully to appreciate ? 
 
 Redemption, however, as surveyed by those exalted 
 creatures, is not merely to be considered as a scheme 
 of grace designed for the spiritual good of those who 
 will embrace it, but also as a mighty enterprise, un- 
 dertaken for the overthrow and discomfiture of the 
 powers of darkness in their vain attempt to frustrate 
 the designs and to usurp the sovereign ascendancy 
 of the living God. This globe of earth, insignificant 
 as it may be when compared with that multiplicity of 
 other worlds with which the fields of immensity are 
 crowded, is the theatre of an arduous and momentous 
 warfare between the good and the evil principalities 
 of the spiritual world. It is here, that Satan and his 
 hosts have been mysteriously permitted to exercise 
 their malignant influence, in seducing other ranks of 
 intelligent and moral creatures from the faith and 
 homage, that are due to God alone. And it is here, 
 that God has interposed to vindicate the glory of His 
 name, to reassert the sanctity of His claims, and to 
 re-establish the authority of His dominion, among 
 those deluded sinners who have been tempted to 
 rebel against Him, and to save them from the grasp 
 of those inveterate adversaries, who, having prevailed 
 to withdraw them from their allegiance, are eagerly 
 bent on securing their continuance in a state of ob- 
 stinate ungodliness and unbelief. No wonder, then, 
 that a contest such as this, should be regarded with 
 the most intense interest by all pure and loyal intelli- 
 gences throughout the universe. No wonder that the 
 Angels who kept " their first estate " should have 
 their attention fixedly entranced, and their emo- 
 
desire to look into. 43 
 
 tions powerfully excited, by the spectacle presented 
 in the Gospel of a mighty plan devised by infinite 
 wisdom and executed by all-prevailing might, for 
 not only reclaiming the sinful race of men to the 
 worship, love, and service of the King of kings, but 
 at the same time for gaining a complete victory over 
 those spiritual enemies who have enslaved them, 
 for spoiling principalities and powers, and for de- 
 stroying the works of the Devil. 
 
 On all these accounts, I repeat, the very circum- 
 stance of such a scheme as that of the Gospel being 
 formed, with a view to the attainment of such objects, 
 was in itself fitted to attract the special notice and 
 to call forth the most earnest scrutiny of the heavenly 
 hosts. 
 
 II. But farther, if the mere formation of such a 
 scheme was calculated thus to interest and excite 
 them, much more may we suppose them to be 
 animated with adoring wonder, and prompted to 
 deep and searching investigation, by the means em- 
 ployed in order to its accomplishme^tt. For, as the 
 Apostle Paul has forcibly said, " without controversy 
 great is the mystery of godliness : God was manifest 
 in the flesh, justified in the Spirit, seen of angels, 
 preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world, 
 received up into glory." 
 
 It never could have entered into the minds of the 
 most exalted Seraphs who surround the heavenly 
 throne, that God should employ an agency so mighty, 
 and offer a ransom so costly for man's redemption. 
 And when they found Him so loving the world as not 
 to spare even His own beloved Son ; when they heard 
 
44 Things which Angels 
 
 the everlasting Word, the brightness of the Father's 
 glory, declaring, " Lo, I come to do Thy will, O 
 God f when they saw this glorious One, whom it had 
 been their delight to worship, making Himself a little 
 lower than themselves, taking upon Him the fashion 
 of a man, assuming the lowly form of a servant, 
 rejected of men, assailed by devils, complaining that 
 the light of His Father's face was hidden from Him, 
 and given up to death itself with every circum- 
 stance of ignominy and torture on the cross ; and 
 when, having thus surveyed the sufferings of Christ, 
 they looked beyond them to the glory that should 
 follow — His triumphant resurrection and ascension. 
 His exalted throne. His prevailing intercession. His 
 outpoured Spirit, His wide-spreading kingdom. His 
 name above every name. His headship over all 
 things to his Church, His ultimate treading of all His 
 enemies beneath His feet, and glorifying of His 
 purchased people on the day of judgment, — there 
 was in all this a spectacle displayed to them more 
 wondrous than heaven itself, with all its marvels, had 
 ever yielded ! May we not say that the riches of 
 this grace, the priceless worth and efficacy of this 
 ransom, the all-prevailing power of this agency, the 
 measureless heights and depths of this love, did 
 ijideed form a " mystery of godliness," which, as 
 " seen by angels," might well fill them with amaze- 
 ment ? 
 
 HI. Add to this, that the gradual development 
 and ever-growing advancement of the mighty plan 
 still farther tend to sustain the deep interest and 
 to stimulate the inquiring spirit, with which it is re- 
 
desire to look into. 45 
 
 garded by them. So far as we can judge of their 
 minds from our own, we cannot expect that their 
 attention for any lengthened period should be entirely 
 engrossed by any single subject which maintains the 
 same unchanging aspect, and from which, as they 
 continue to survey it, no further additions of know- 
 ledge are obtained. The subject of their study, how- 
 ever, is not of this description. It is continually 
 affording them, as it moves along from stage to stage 
 to its final consummation, new displays of wonder, 
 new sources of instruction, new themes of joyous and 
 adoring contemplation. The Angels, far as they may 
 excel us in intelligence, are still but creatures of finite 
 understanding. There are, doubtless, many things 
 which they do not perfectly know. Our Lord Him- 
 self has expressly told us that they are ignorant of 
 the time of His second coming. The beloved dis- 
 ciple speaks of a mystic book, which no one in hea- 
 ven, any more than on the earth, was able to open or 
 to look into the secrets thereof, until it was unsealed 
 by the Lord of glory. And from the text itself we 
 are warranted to conclude that their acquaintance 
 with the scheme of redemption is gradually enlarg- 
 ing, that they do not yet see of it so much as they 
 desire to see, and that, from age to age, they are con- 
 stantly obtaining more full and definite views of it in 
 its progressive advancement. The first promise of 
 the great Deliverer, as the Seed of the woman who 
 should bruise the head of the serpent, would give but 
 such a dim prospect of the great salvation as would 
 serve to excite, without gratifying, their longing wish 
 to search to the uttermost the counsels of redeeming 
 love. With the men of faith from earliest times they 
 
46 Things which Angels 
 
 would eagerly desire to see the day of the Son of 
 man, and would rejoice as one star after another was 
 lighted up in the firmament of prophecy, and as one 
 brightening ray after another betokened the nearer 
 and nearer approach of the longed-for dawn. Like 
 the cherubim in the tabernacle, they may literally have 
 stooped down to explore those heavenly truths, which 
 were pictured in the types and symbols of the ancient 
 Church, And when at last they saw God manifest 
 in the flesh, while raising the anthem of His nativity, 
 ministering to Him in His season of temptation, com- 
 forting Him in the hour of His sore agony, waiting 
 on Him at His resurrection from the tomb, and hail- 
 inof Him on His ascension into heaven, their minds 
 would gradually open to the perception of the arduous 
 nature and triumphant issue of His work of love. 
 
 Certain it is, that at the time when the text was 
 written, these celestial beings had been employed in 
 studying the wonderful scheme of our redemption in 
 all the successive stages of its progress, for more than 
 the long period of four thousand years. But still there 
 were heights in it which they had not yet scanned, 
 and depths which they had not yet fathomed, and 
 lengths and breadths which they had not yet compre- 
 hended. Their eager wish to look into its mysteries 
 had not as yet been thoroughly satisfied. Much has 
 occurred in ages that have since elapsed, to give them 
 a still further knowledge in regard to it. Nor can we 
 doubt that the history of Christianity, in its long strug- 
 gles whether with Pagan idolatry, or Jewish unbelief, 
 or Popish superstition, or Mohammiedan delusion, or 
 prevalent infidelity and worldliness, as well as in its 
 general diffusion throughout the earth, at one time 
 
desire to look into. 47 
 
 its general diffusion throughout the world, at one time 
 more rapid and at another more retarded, has furnished 
 matter at once of varied interest and ever-growing 
 instruction to the Angels of God. Nor yet is the 
 vision full. Still do they desire to see of it more 
 than has hitherto been presented to them. There 
 are many events which have not as yet occurred, in 
 which we may well suppose them to be interested, as 
 tending to the more thorough fulfilment of the Divine 
 counsels. There is certainly nothing unwarranted in 
 the thought, that their notice is won and their sympathy 
 awakened by all that is done for the furtherance of 
 the Gospel ; that they look and long for the end that 
 is approaching when all nations of the earth shall be 
 subject to its influence ; and that even beyond this 
 they would fain extend their gaze to that farther 
 period, of all others the most momentous, when the 
 Lord shall appear to be glorified in His saints, and 
 to be admired in them that believe, and when His 
 purpose of grace shall be finally consummated. 
 
 Thus may it be said that the gradual development 
 and progressive advancement of the Christian dispen- 
 sation tend to sustain in the minds of the angelic 
 hosts that deep and searching interest, with which it 
 is regarded by them. 
 
 IV. I may yet farther observe, that the Gospel 
 may be viewed as an appropriate subject of earnest 
 study and adoring contemplation to the Angels, by 
 reason of that tuiequalled display ivJiich it presents of 
 the excellence and glory of the Divine character. 
 
 To see God, to know Him, to resemble Him, to 
 stand in His immediate presence worshipping and 
 
48 Things which Angels 
 
 serving Him, constitute the chief joy and dignity of 
 these glorious spirits. Hence we conclude, that what- 
 soever gives them the clearest and broadest mani- 
 festations of His Divine perfections, must ever be to 
 their minds a spectacle the most attractive, and a sub- 
 ject of inquiry the most absorbing. That the subject 
 of the Gospel may be emphatically said to do so, is 
 a truth which no one who believes in it will call 
 in question. Without in the least disparaging that 
 testimony which the works of creation and the course 
 of providence so loudly bear to the excellences of 
 their Divine Author, we may confidently say that it 
 comes short, in many respects, of that which is borne 
 by the wonders of redemption. Accordingly, St Paul 
 has assured us, that one great purpose for which the 
 scheme of salvation has been appointed was " to the 
 intent that now unto the principalities and powers in 
 heavenly places there might be made known the mani- 
 fold wisdom of God," — as if, comparatively speaking, 
 it never had been discovered to them before. Most 
 evident it is, that some of the attributes of God — as 
 for example His mercy and His patience, and other 
 modifications of His benevolence exercised towards 
 the sinful and undeserving — could not otherwise have 
 been made known to His intelligent creatures, than 
 by some such manifestation of them in their actual 
 working, as is exhibited in the Gospel. Yet it is not 
 these alone, but all His Divine perfections which are 
 here most brightly and gloriously illustrated. For 
 where is there such an exhibition of His wisdom, as 
 in reconcilinof the honour of His law with the free 
 and full remission of its penalties, and providing for 
 us such a method of deliverance as renders His dis- 
 
desire to look into. 49 
 
 pleasure against sin still more conspicuous by pardon- 
 ing than by punishing it ? Where is there such a 
 display of Was power, as in conquering sin, abolishing 
 death, spoiling principalities of evil, subduing the 
 obstinacy and wickedness of the human heart, and 
 destroying all the works of the Devil ? Where is 
 there such a discovery of Was, faithfulness, 2lS in fulfil- 
 ling even to the minutest tittle, although by a most 
 astonishing sacrifice, the promises which He had 
 made from the foundation of the world ? Where is 
 there such a manifestation of the holiness and justice 
 of His character, as in requiring that costly propitia- 
 tion which His own Eternal Son hath offered for the 
 sins of men ? Or, where is there to be found so 
 perfect a display of the riches of His love and the 
 tenderness of His mercy, as in His sending this ador- 
 able Saviour to lay down His life for His people, — in 
 His not even sparing the costliest gift He had to 
 bestow — in His giving up that which His own infinite 
 mind most dearly loved and most highly valued, — for 
 the sake of those who deserved not even the smallest 
 exercise of forbearance at His hands ? Certainly it 
 is here, in the " glorious Gospel of the blessed God," 
 as an Apostle has emphatically termed it, that the full- 
 orbed perfections of Jehovah shine forth, at once in 
 briehtest lustre and in most harmonious combination. 
 Even those of His attributes, which might have 
 seemed before to be somewhat inconsistent, are here 
 united in intimate alliance, and made to reflect new 
 light upon each other. ** Mercy and truth meet to- 
 gether; righteousness and peace kiss each other." 
 Infinite power, unsearchable wisdom, immaculate holi- 
 ness, undeviating truth, inflexible justice, pitying mercy, 
 
50 Things which Angels 
 
 abounding grace, and love that passeth knowledge — 
 all these adorable features of the Divine character, 
 which in other objects are only to be viewed apart, one 
 by one, here a little and there a little, like the rays of the 
 sun when untwisted into all the party-coloured hues of 
 the rainbow, are here beautifully blended together in 
 one pure blaze of splendour. None of them darkens — 
 none of them distorts the others. Every one of them 
 gives brightness to the rest. They mingle their beams 
 and shine with united lustre. No wonder, then, that 
 the Angels should "desire to look" more and more 
 into the wonders of redeeming love. No wonder 
 that thus beholding " the light of the knowledge of 
 the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ," they 
 should gaze upon it with the most entranced interest, 
 and search into it with the most unwearied scrutiny. 
 For here, without exaggeration it may be said, there is 
 more to be learned than was ever known before by 
 even the most exalted of these intelligences, respect- 
 ing the character and counsels of Jehovah, more to 
 increase their veneration for His excellences, and to 
 swell their notes of rapture in His praise. 
 
 These remarks may help you to understand how it 
 can be, that the scheme of man's redemption should 
 excite that interest and inquiry, which the text speaks 
 of, among the highest ranks of the intelligent creation. 
 However, I must carefully guard you against suppos- 
 ing that this subject is one merely of a curious and 
 speculative nature, by which a vain imagination may 
 be excited, or an idle curiosity indulged, without any 
 practical bearing on our conduct. Such a view of it 
 is altogether erroneous. It is, on the contrary, fraught 
 
desire to look into. 51 
 
 with many lessons of the most sohd and useful nature 
 for our improvement, 
 
 I. I observe that we learn from it, in the first 
 place, the dignity and excellency of the Gospel'. 
 
 It was doubtless with a view to inculcate this lesson 
 that the statement before us was originally made. 
 The text is the crowning point of a climax. The 
 Apostle is seeking to impress us with an exalted 
 sense of the greatness of that salvation of which 
 he speaks. With this intent he reminds us, that 
 the prophets " inquired and searched diligently " 
 regarding it, while testifying beforehand of the grace 
 that was to come. He farther reminds us, that 
 heaven-inspired evangelists had been sent forth with 
 Divine authority to proclaim it. And then, to 
 crown the whole, he brings before our view the 
 Angels of God as " desiring to look into it." 
 
 Yet this is that Gospel which many in our own 
 day, even as in the days of old, would cast aside 
 as " foolishness ! " They do not think it worth 
 their while to seek any accurate knowledge of its 
 nature, or to give any candid consideration to its 
 evidences. They deem it a mean, and vulgar, and 
 worthless thing, such as no man of expanded intellect, 
 or cultivated taste, or just discrimination, should so 
 far demean himself as to make it either the object of 
 his inquiry or the theme of his discourse. Let us not 
 judge of it, however, by their estimate. Let us look 
 up from these men, wise in their own conceits, to 
 Beings who are incomparably more intelligent. Let 
 us think of Angels, greatly as they are raised above us 
 in wisdom, and dignity, and happiness, — oi Angels, far 
 as they unquestionably excel the most accomplished 
 
52 Things which Angels 
 
 votaries of earthly science in their knowledge of all the 
 wonderful works of God, bending their high powers 
 to the contemplation of this scheme of love, finding 
 fit exercise for all their faculties in the study of it, 
 and ever discovering in it new lessons of instruction, 
 new objects of wonder, new themes of praise, which 
 heighten more and more their ardour in surveying 
 it ; and tJie7i may we learn to think more worthily of 
 that glorious and precious Gospel which foolish men 
 despise. Then may we be brought to say of it with 
 an Apostle : " Yea doubtless, and I count all things but 
 loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ 
 Jesus my Lord." 
 
 2. This subject also teaches us to be prepared for 
 mysteries in the study of the Gospel, and to meet 
 them with a spirit of patience and humility. It 
 would be strange indeed, if a system of revelation, 
 coming from the infinite Jehovah, were not in some 
 respects unsearchable like Himself. We find, too, in 
 His works of nature and of providence so many things 
 that pass our comprehension, that nothing else can 
 be reasonably expected, than that similar difficulties 
 should be met with in His work of grace. But not 
 to dwell on these considerations, which ought to 
 reconcile our minds to much that is deep and 
 unfathomable in Christianity, I would simply urge 
 here, the fact which the text presents, that the Angels 
 desire to look into these things. It would seem from 
 this that even to their minds there are deep things in 
 the method of redemption which require their close 
 study and continued investigation in order that they 
 may be able to understand them. If so, surely we 
 have no cause to be offended, if our comparatively 
 
desire to look into. 53 
 
 feeble and contracted powers should be in some 
 respects baffled by the mighty plan. If even the 
 Angels know it but in part, and still seek to look into 
 it that they may know it more thoroughly, well may 
 we be contented to exclaim with an Apostle : " O the 
 depth of the riches both of the wisdom and of the 
 knowledge of God! how unsearchable are His judg- 
 ments, and His ways past finding out ! " 
 
 3. Again, we are powerfully admonished by this 
 subject, to give earnest heed to the great truths of 
 Christianity, making them, as the Angels do, the 
 constant and congenial themes of our diligent study 
 and earnest meditation. 
 
 It is matter of deep humiliation to reflect how little, 
 for the most part, professed Christians are disposed 
 to do so. Engrossed with the vain concerns of this 
 world, they turn away with indifference from that 
 Gospel which in heaven is viewed with the most 
 absorbing interest. They seldom think of it, except 
 when some suggestion from without may bring it be- 
 fore their minds, or when some alarming judgment of 
 Divine Providence may force it for a time reluctantly 
 upon their attention. They rarely speak of it even 
 to their most intimate friends ; nay, they are apt to 
 be embarrassed or offended, and to think it a breach 
 of politeness, or a want of discretion, if any serious 
 allusion to it should be made in the course of familiar 
 conversation. Alive, as they may be, to all that is 
 grand, and beautiful, and wondrous in the works of 
 nature, they have no discernment for the far greater 
 excellences and far more astonishing marvels of the 
 work of grace. And, ready as they are to kindle into 
 rapture at the mention of any deeds of earthly hero- 
 
54 Things which Angels 
 
 ism or philanthropy, by which freedom has been 
 secured and wretchedness alleviated and temporal 
 peace and prosperity advanced, they feel no like 
 enthusiasm at the thought of that most noble and 
 benevolent of all undertakings which Infinite Love 
 has so graciously devised, and so triumphantly carried 
 into execution in behalf of countless multitudes of 
 the human race, in order to rescue them from the 
 bondage of Satan, to invest them with the glorious 
 liberty of the children of God, and to enrich them 
 with the choicest blessings and the most exalted 
 honours in time and through eternity ! Why should 
 it be so ? Why should there be so great a dissimi- 
 larity in this respect between glowing Seraphs who 
 stand around the throne, and creatures of the dust 
 who dwell upon the footstool ? Surely we cannot be 
 forming a right estimate of the claims which the Gos- 
 pel has to our devout attention, if we treat it so differ- 
 ently from these exalted creatures, who so far excel 
 us in wisdom and in goodness. And what is more, 
 we cannot be at all fitted for joining at last in their 
 occupations and enjoyments, if we be not now in any 
 measure conformed to them in the pleasures we relish, 
 and the pursuits we engage in. Here must we acquire 
 a meetness for their fellowship. Here must we be 
 qualified for partaking of their bliss. Here, by study- 
 ing with eagerness and surveying with delight what 
 they " desire to look into," must we be trained for that 
 unutterable happiness which they experience while 
 meditating on the wonders, and fathoming the mys- 
 teries, and celebrating the praises of redeeming love. 
 4. But, in conclusion, I must yet farther remind 
 you, that the Gospel, as addressed to yoz^, is not only 
 
desire to look into. 55 
 
 a subject of deeply interesting inquiry and contem- 
 plation, but also a matter of the closest personal 
 concern^ involving your highest interests as immortal 
 and accountable creatures. It cannot be said that 
 the Angels, on their own account, have any special 
 concern in the method of redemption. However 
 much it may excite their curiosity, or increase their 
 knowledge, or awaken their sympathy, or gratify their 
 benevolence, or kindle their adoration, still they can- 
 not be properly considered as deriving any immediate 
 advantage from it. It is different with us. The 
 Gospel is for oicr behoof. The salvation provided 
 by it, is offered and designed for us. It was our 
 nature, and not that of Angels, which the Saviour 
 assumed. It was for our deliverance from sin and 
 misery, and not for theirs, that He was humbled and 
 afflicted. It is not for their spiritual benefit, but 
 for ours, that His free calls are given. His rich mercies 
 spread out. His gracious aids offered, and His faith- 
 ful promises recorded. Great therefore, unspeakably 
 great, will be our condemnation if, while Angels are en- 
 tranced and captivated by His work of grace, we, for 
 whom He wrought it, should regard it with indiffer- 
 ence. Let us remember that those things " which 
 Angels desire to look into," are no other than the 
 " things which belong unto our peace^' and that it be- 
 comes us seriously to ponder the momentous question, 
 " How shall we escape, if we neglect so great salva- 
 tion ? " It is not for us to rest in a mere speculative 
 acquaintance with the wonderful plans and provisions 
 of the covenant of grace. We must, in the exercise 
 of an appropriating faith, receive them and rest upon 
 them for our personal benefit. Not only must we 
 
56 Things which Angels desire to look into. 
 
 " desire to look into " them, but we must desire to 
 make them all our own. Not only must we "count 
 all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge 
 of Christ Jesus," but we must seek to " win Christ, 
 and to be found in 7/2?;^," washed in His blood, clothed 
 with His righteousness, sanctified by His Spirit, and 
 made heirs according to His sure promise of eternal 
 life. Thus only can we come to the attainment of 
 that knowledge which maketh wise unto salvation, 
 and which will at last bring us into fellowship with 
 the Angels and with the spirits of just men made 
 perfect, and fit us for sharing in those high exercises, 
 which they cease not day or night to be engaged in, 
 as they stand before the throne of God and of the 
 Lamb. 
 
57 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE SON OF GOD PLEADING WITH THE 
 SONS OF MEN. 
 
 ■ Behold, I stand at the door and knock : if any man hear my voice, and open 
 the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with 
 me." — Rev. iii. 20, 
 
 In these words we have an astonishing instance of 
 the grace and condescension of our Redeemer. He 
 represents Himself as pleading with sinners to open 
 to Him the door of their hearts, as patiently waiting 
 and urgently knocking for admission, as pressing them 
 by applications the most earnest and persuading them 
 by promises the most precious, to receive Him. 
 
 Well may the text introduce itself with the word 
 " Behold," at once to attract our attention and to 
 excite our wonder. For it is a sight to fill heaven 
 and earth with amazement, that God should thus 
 sue to man, that the Saviour should thus beseech 
 the sinner. Indeed, there is but one other sight of 
 wonder that can equal it. And it is, that such so- 
 licitation should in any case be used in vain, that sin- 
 ful man should ever be so perverse as to turn a deaf 
 ear to the entreaties of his God and Saviour. 
 
 We are sometimes ready to wonder that the Most 
 High should invite us to come with boldness to His 
 mercy-seat, " asking that we may receive, seeking 
 
58 TJie Son of God pleading 
 
 that we may find, knocking that it may be opened to 
 us." But how much greater cause of wonder have 
 we here, when we find, as it were, the act reversed, 
 and instead of the sinner knocking at the door of 
 grace, we behold the Son of God knocking at the 
 door of the sinner's heart and soHciting admittance ! 
 "Behold," He says, " I stand at the door and knock : if 
 any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come 
 in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me." 
 
 I. In discoursing on these words, xh^ first thing to 
 be considered is the Dwelling, into which an entrance 
 is thus sought. 
 
 At what door is it that the Saviour seeks admis- 
 sion ? Need I reply, that it is at the door of the 
 human heart ? It is 2Lt yozir door, dear Brethren, and 
 at mine, if He be not even now dwelling in our 
 inmost souls. It is at the door of every impenitent 
 sinner who has never yet received Him at all, and of 
 every unsteadfast disciple who has temporarily for- 
 gotten or renounced Him, and even of every immature 
 believer, whose soul, albeit in some measure opened 
 to Him, is not as yet thoroughly and intimately per- 
 vaded by Him. At the door of all such does He 
 stand and knock for entrance, that He may cheer 
 them with His fellowship. 
 
 It is not Angels or Archanofels whom He thus 
 solicits, though even that had been unspeakable con- 
 descension. It is to men He calls, and His voice is 
 to the sons of men. 
 
 Neither is it to men pure and holy, that He 
 addresses Himself, but to sinners who are altogether 
 unworthy of His regard; yea, even to S2(ck sinners as 
 
with the so7ts of men. 59 
 
 are said, in a previous verse, to be in a peculiar man- 
 ner distasteful and offensive to Him. He stands at 
 the door of that guilty and polluted heart, which the 
 world, the flesh, and the devil have so long appropri- 
 ated, the seat of every vile affection, the abode of all 
 impiety and impurity. How strange that the Holy 
 One should seek admission into such a dwelling ! 
 
 Nor is it at the house of friends, that He knocks. 
 Were it so, however humble and unattractive it might 
 be, there would be less cause for wonder that He 
 should sue for entrance. But it is the house of 
 ene77zies, who have opposed His cause, rejected His 
 claims, defied His authority, who never liked to 
 retain Him in their knowledge, and who are even 
 now repelling and excluding Him as an unwelcome 
 and uncongenial intruder. Some He finds asleep, 
 lulled by Satan's opiates into so deep a repose, that 
 neither alarms nor entreaties can arouse them ; or, if 
 they should be startled for a moment, they soon lie 
 down again to their slumbers, and wrap themselves 
 up on their couch of carnal ease, shrinking from all 
 self-denial and earnest exertion. Others He finds 
 with hearts so fully occupied by the cares and toils 
 and pleasures of the world, as to leave no room 
 within for Him. Others, again, are so fortified 
 against Him by the strong barriers of pride and self- 
 righteousness, that His Gospel finds in them nothing 
 of which it can take hold, no sense of need through 
 which it can effect an entrance. Not a few, also, 
 are running into such excesses of riot, and joining so 
 madly in the revels of worldly amusement or carnal 
 gratification, that His knocking at their door is un- 
 heard amidst the din. Full well does this gracious 
 
6o The Soil of God pleading 
 
 Visitant know, full often has He experienced, that the 
 sinner's heart is to Him an unfriendly dwelling. The 
 door is closed at the first signal of His approach. 
 And the more He knocks, the more firmly is it 
 fastened against Him. Other applicants obtain a 
 ready entrance. The world has no need to stand 
 and knock. Sin in its varied shapes has no need to 
 sue for admission. The great adversary himself is 
 not unwelcome. The door is thrown wide open to 
 them, when they first appear. They are welcomed 
 with eagerness and cherished with delight. But, 
 when the adorable Redeemer comes, the door is 
 closed. For Him, there appears to be no room in 
 the crowded heart. The carnal mind discerns in 
 Him no beauty that it should desire Him. It repels 
 Him as a disturber of its peace, and as a foe to its 
 most congenial pursuits and gratifications. 
 
 Such is the character of the dwelling at which the 
 application of the text is made. Thus poor and 
 lowly, thus vile and unworthy, thus unfriendly and 
 ungracious, is the door at which the heavenly Visitant 
 stands and knocks. 
 
 H. Let us now shortly consider, in the second place, 
 the character of the Visitaiit Himself 
 
 Who is it, that thus stands at the door and impor- 
 tunately knocks and pleads for entrance ? 
 
 Surely it must be one who has no right to claim 
 admission, one whose society can afford no entertain- 
 ment ! It must be some messenger of evil tid- 
 ings, some dreaded invader of our property, or some 
 vexatious intruder on our happiness ! 
 
 Nay, Brethren, it is quite otherwise. It is One 
 
with the sons of men. " 6i 
 
 whose right of entrance is the clearest, and whose 
 claim to a favourable reception is the strongest. It is 
 One whom we ought to welcome with delight, and to 
 cherish with the fullest contentment and complacency. 
 
 Think of the dignity and excellence of His 
 character. He is described in this book of Reve- 
 lation, and in other passages of Scripture, as " the 
 Alpha and Omega, the first and the last, which 
 is, which was, and which is to come ; " " the Al- 
 mighty;" "the King of kings, and Lord of lords;" 
 "the brightness of the Father's glory; " " God over 
 all blessed for evermore " ! What an honour to be 
 visited by such a Being! What a privilege to 
 receive Him as our guest ! And how unutterable 
 the perverseness of suffering such an applicant to 
 plead in vain ! Surely the most miserable being in 
 all the world excluding from his hovel the most glo- 
 rious of earthly monarchs, were but- a faint approach 
 to the folly of the sinner who closes his heart against 
 the entrance of a Saviour-God ! 
 
 Think, too, of the relation which He bears to us. 
 He is our Creator, our Preserver, our Redeemer, 
 possessing as such the strongest title to our regard, 
 the fullest claim to our homage and affection. By 
 every plea of right, on every ground of justice, by 
 every tie of gratitude, we belong to Him. Those 
 souls into which He wishes to be received, are souls 
 to which He at first gave life and being, souls which 
 His bounty has ever since sustained and cheered, 
 souls which He shed His own precious blood to 
 redeem, and in excluding Him from them we are 
 chargeable, at once, with the most flagrant injustice 
 and with the most detestable ingratitude. You 
 
62 TJie Son of God pleading 
 
 would not shut the door of your house on the friend 
 who loves you, or on the wife who cleaves to you, or 
 on the mother who bore you, or on the father who has 
 provided for you. But you are doing worse than this, 
 when you close your hearts on Him who loves you 
 more warmly, who watches over you more carefully, 
 and seeks your true welfare more faithfully, than the 
 best of your friends and the nearest of your kindred. 
 Think, yet again, of the errand on which He comes 
 to us. He comes not as a messenger of woe, but 
 charged with "good tidings of great joy." He comes 
 not to invade our property, but to enrich us with the 
 treasures of His grace. He comes, not as the dis- 
 turber of our peace, but as our comforter, to cheer us 
 and to bless us. It is the Saviour who is standing 
 at our door, plying us, it is true, with importunities, 
 but not so much for His own behoof as for otir 
 advantage, entreating us to receive Him into our 
 hearts, and to let Him bless us and save us to the 
 uttermost. As He comes on an errand so gracious, 
 how can we choose, it may well be asked, but open 
 to Him ? Shall the dying man exclude the good 
 physician, who brings him a sovereign remedy to 
 restore his health ? Shall the victim of poverty and 
 famine be so perverse, as to shut out the benefactor 
 who would supply his wants ? Or shall the pining 
 captive hold fast his prison door against the liberator, 
 who is ready to strike off his fetters, and to restore 
 him to light, and liberty, and joy ? Alas ! such is 
 too often the reception which the Saviour meets with. 
 He speaks in the text indeed as One having authority, 
 as One who is entitled to expect that the very first 
 announcement of His name should cause the portals 
 
with the sons of men. 63 
 
 to be opened wide for His admission. But, no ! The 
 heart of man is not of so easy access. The slumbers 
 of unbeHef, the dreams of worldhness, the revels of 
 dissipation and self - indulgence, are not to be so 
 readily disturbed. Great as is the dignity of Him 
 who is soliciting us, close and endearing the rela- 
 tions in which He stands to us, and merciful the 
 errand on which He is pleased to come, it Is only by 
 the most patient waiting, and the most urgent impor- 
 tunity, that He effects an entrance. 
 
 HI. And this leads me to notice, in the third place, 
 the ^^<3;;^5 which the Saviour, adopts in order to obtain 
 admittance. ''I stand at the door,'' He says, ^' and 
 knock y 
 
 It cannot be doubted indeed that He, who is de- 
 scribed as " holding in His hand the key of David, 
 opening so that no man can shut, and shutting so 
 that no man can open," is able at once by His own 
 resistless power, and without any intervening instru- 
 ments or appliances, to effect a forcible entrance 
 into the human heart ; and, apart from any concur- 
 rence of its own, to assume the absolute and undi- 
 vided possession of it. This, however, is not the 
 method which He has recourse to. His way is to 
 seek admission into our hearts, not as it were by 
 overwhelmlnof force, but with our own consent and 
 co-operation. He makes us "a willing people in 
 His day of power." He ^^ draws'' us Indeed; but 
 how does He draw us ? Not like machines Incap- 
 able of thought and choice, — not like Irrational and 
 irresponsible animals that must be dragged along by 
 physical compulsion, — but, In a manner suited to our 
 
64 The Son of God pleading 
 
 character as reasonable, moral, and voluntary agents. 
 He draws us with " the cords of a man and with bands 
 of love," bringing us into cordial subjection by the 
 mild and attractive influence of His grace. He 
 does not seek to break into the house, but stands at 
 the door and knocks that we may open to Him, apply- 
 ing to the natural inlets of the soul, and seeking 
 through these customary avenues to gain admission ; 
 addressing Himself to our judgments with persuasive 
 arguments, to our memories with affecting recollec- 
 tions, to our consciences with awakening appeals, to 
 our "hopes with precious promises, to our fears with 
 solemn warnings, to our heart and affections with 
 tender and moving entreaties, and thus making our 
 own faculties the instruments in His hands of carry- 
 ing His gracious purpose respecting us into full effect. 
 
 The Means, by which the Saviour thus knocks at 
 the customary inlets to the human soul, are manifold. 
 He knocks by His Word. For, therein does He 
 address to us doctrines the most interesting and 
 important to instruct us, precepts the most pure and 
 salutary to direct us, promises the most inestimable 
 to allure us, threatenings of the most awful import to 
 alarm us, and invitations of mercy and of love that 
 are fitted, if anything be, to move and melt our hearts. 
 
 He knocks by His Preachers. For, what is their 
 commission but to sound in every ear the tidings of 
 His Gospel, beseeching sinners as though the Lord 
 Himself besought them, and praying them, in Christ's 
 stead, to be reconciled to God ? 
 
 He knocks by His Sacraments. For, therein, by 
 appropriate signs exhibited to our senses, He gives 
 us the most affecting representations and the most 
 
with the sons of men, 65 
 
 assured pledges and tokens of His redeeming love, 
 while He admits us to intimate fellowship with Him- 
 self, and pleads with us and to give ourselves up un- 
 reservedly to His service. 
 
 He knocks by the warnings and remonstrances of 
 Conscience. For, what is conscience but the Lord's 
 deputy within our breasts ? And what are all those 
 humbling thoughts, and accusing recollections, and 
 gloomy forebodings which are from time to time 
 suggested by it, but so many loud and earnest knock- 
 ings from the Lord, reminding us of duty, convicting 
 us of sin, and admonishing us to flee for refuge from 
 the coming wrath to the hope set before us in the 
 Gospel ? 
 
 Need I add, that the Saviour also knocks at the 
 door of our hearts by the dealings of His providence f 
 The varied blessings and comforts of our earthly lot, 
 of the least of which we are altogether undeserving, 
 — what are they, if rightly viewed, but so many indi- 
 cations of that Divine goodness which ought to lead 
 us to repentance ; so many encouraging tokens, at the 
 same time, of the Lord's merciful willingness to spare 
 us, and to be at peace with us, and to bless us with 
 those better gifts of a spiritual and heavenly nature 
 which He has in store ; so many loud calls, also, that 
 we should yield to Him that tribute of love and con- 
 fidence and gratitude, which His bounties justly claim 
 from all His dependent offspring? And, what are 
 the varied calamities and afflictions, with which our- 
 selves or our brethren around us may be visited, but 
 admonitions still more affecting to give earnest heed 
 to the things which concern our peace ? When we 
 see, from time to time, the fairest hopes blighted, 
 
 E 
 
66 TJie Son of God pleading 
 
 the most cherished possessions lost, the closest ties 
 severed — when we hear, as we often do, of youth 
 withered in its early bloom, and of vigorous manhood 
 cut down in its maturity, — or when we are called to 
 follow to the grave the remains of those, who, but a 
 few days before, were no less active and healthful 
 than ourselves, and whose prospects of long life were 
 as favourable as our own, — how solemn, tJien^ is the 
 warning given us that the time is short; that one 
 thing is needful ; that there is but a step between us 
 and death ; and that it becomes us to choose without 
 delay that good part which shall never be taken from 
 us ! Sometimes the warning is closer and louder still. 
 A breach is made in the circle of our own household ; 
 and we are called to mourn in bitterness for the loss 
 of some beloved one, who was dear to us as our 
 own soul. Or, perhaps, disease has laid its blight- 
 ing hand upon ourselves, stretching us on a bed of 
 languishing, and wellnigh bringing us down to the 
 gates of death. Theft, truly, the knocking is very 
 near and very loud, and such as might well be 
 expected to secure compliance. It is humbling to 
 think, indeed, that such methods should be needful 
 to gain for the Saviour an entrance into our hearts. 
 But this is too often found to be the case. Seldom is 
 the heart laid fully open to Him, until it has first been 
 wounded and smitten by Him. And, accordingly, 
 when other means fail. He scruples not to take up 
 the rod of His chastening and to knock with it. He 
 sends trials, sicknesses, disappointments, and sore 
 bereavements to prepare the way before Him. In 
 mercy to our souls He takes away our idols, when 
 nothing else will persuade us to relinquish them. 
 
with the sons of 7nen. 67 
 
 And then, when the heart is lone and desolate, He 
 comes, our true Friend and Comforter, to supply their 
 place, and bless us with the joy of His salvation. 
 
 Thus does the Lord Jesus knock at the heart of 
 man. He knocks patiently, repeatedly, importu- 
 nately. He does not, on failing to obtain from us 
 an immediate answer, at once depart. He stands 
 and knocks. There is not one among you, my dear 
 friends, whom He has not been soliciting, time after 
 time, from your youth upwards, even to the present 
 hour. And long as you may have resisted and de- 
 spised Him, He is yet at the door of your hearts, 
 waiting and knocking still, and pleading as earnestly 
 as ever for admittance. 
 
 How different, in this respect, are His dealings with 
 lis from ours with Him ! \i we are kept waiting only 
 for a little, before we receive an answer to our prayers, 
 we are ready to repine, to doubt, and to cease praying. 
 And, yet, in our case, the wonder is not that we should 
 be required to pray long before we obtain an answer, 
 but that the most persevering supplications of crea- 
 tures so ill-deserving should be heard at all. Such 
 is not the manner of the Lord. " His mercy is 
 more urgent than our misery." A few prayers not 
 immediately answered are usually enough to weary 
 out the sinner ; but, long years of unregarded expostu- 
 lation and rejected entreaty weary not the Saviour. 
 His patience is indeed marvellous. Let us beware, 
 however, of despising or abusing it. It may have 
 lasted long, but be assured it will not last for ever. 
 It can hardly be doubted, that there is something 
 ominous in the description here given of the Lord, as 
 only in a standing ^ostwre at the sinner's door. He 
 
68 The Son of God pleading 
 
 has not sat down. He is only standing, and is ready, 
 if He find us incorrigible, to remove away. At all 
 events it is not to be questioned, that one day or other 
 He will give the last knock. And should that final 
 application be despised, — and how know we but that 
 the present may be the final one ? — tlien will there be 
 no alternative for the sinner but hardness of heart, 
 confirmed impenitence, and endless ruin. Ah ! how 
 fearfully will the Saviour's insulted patience and 
 spurned entreaties be requited on that sinner's head, 
 when it comes to be /its turn to stand without and 
 knock in vain ; when, crying wistfully, " Lord, Lord, 
 open to me," he obtains no other but the hopeless 
 answer, " Depart from me : I know thee not " ! 
 
 IV. Let us, therefore, briefly notice, in the fourth 
 place, the Compliance with His entreaties, which the 
 Saviour would have us to yield. It is but a simple 
 matter which He asks of us — it is only to '■''hear His 
 voice and open the door." 
 
 He wishes us, in the first instance, to listen to His 
 call. The deep sleep of thoughtlessness and unbelief, 
 which makes us deaf to the heavenly summons, must 
 be shaken off. Or, the noisy revels of carnal indul- 
 gence or worldly dissipation, which drown the still 
 small voice, must be silenced. The soul must .be 
 awakened and aroused, its thoughts arrested, its false 
 peace disturbed, its vain and dreamy imaginations 
 driven away. The things which belong to its peace 
 must be impressed upon it. The Saviour's call must 
 be seriously pondered and laid to heart. 
 
 The entreaties of this heavenly Applicant, how- 
 ever, must not only be listened to, but also complied 
 
luith the sons of inen. 69 
 
 with. He wishes us not only to " hear His voice," 
 but to ''open the doorT And need you be told, 
 Brethren, what this demand amounts to ? To 
 " open the door to Christ " undoubtedly means be- 
 lief on Him, the reception of Him as He is offered 
 to us in the Gospel. It means the unfastening of 
 those bolts wherewith unbelief or prejudice would 
 keep Him out, the throwing open of those bar- 
 riers which a thoughtless mind, a depraved heart, 
 or a self-righteous disposition would oppose to His 
 admittance. It means the giving up to Him of our 
 confidence, the going forth to welcome Him of our 
 desires, the full and cordial surrender to Him of our 
 wills. It means the receiving and resting on Him for 
 salvation, in His own prescribed way, on His own free 
 terms, and with a view to His own most gracious 
 purposes, — as our Prophet to teach us, our Priest to 
 atone for us, our King to rule us, our Friend to dwell 
 with us in intimate and habitual fellowship, our boun- 
 tiful Providence, and our never-failing Guardian. 
 
 Such is the compliance which our blessed Lord 
 demands. It is true He alone can enable us to 
 render it. Nothing short of His own Divine power, 
 can conquer the unbelief and obstinacy of the human 
 heart. It was only when the Lord opened the heart 
 of Lydia, that she attended to the things which were 
 spoken to her by His Apostle. And so with our- 
 selves, it is not enough that the Saviour outwardly 
 proposes His Gospel to us; He must inwardly dis- 
 pose us, at the same time, for the reception of it. 
 
 Yet, you perceive, the opening of the door to Him 
 is spoken of, in the text, as if it were our own act. 
 And so It really is, although it be the Lord, by the 
 
yo The Sojt of God pleading 
 
 power of His grace, who brings us to the perform- 
 ance of it. He " works in us," indeed, as the Apostle 
 Paul assures us, " both to will and to do of His good 
 pleasure." But, then, it is on our will that He 
 operates, and it is ozir active powers that He calls 
 into exertion. It is not Christ who repents, and be- 
 lieves, and obeys mstead of its. \X.\s we who repent, 
 and believe, and obey, through the grace of Christ 
 disposing and enabling us so to do. He does not dis- 
 pense with our own faculties and efforts, but makes 
 full use of them in the work of our salvation. He 
 does not, as I before s^\A, force open the door of our 
 hearts, but He renders us willing, with our own hands 
 to open it to Him, plying us at once with importuni- 
 ties from without and with influences within, which 
 are suited to our nature as reasonable and moral 
 creatures, and calculated to make us a " willing peo- 
 ple in His day of power." 
 
 It is well, however, in reading such texts as the 
 one before us, not to trouble ourselves with any 
 puzzling questions regarding the several provinces 
 of Divine grace and human effort. It is best to take 
 the invitations of the Gospel simply, faithfully, and 
 unhesitatingly, as we find them, and to let them exert 
 their full influence upon our minds. When the man 
 with the withered hand was told to " stretch it forth," 
 he did not pause to consider how he should be able 
 to do so, but made the attempt, and in so doing 
 received the power. So let us act when the Saviour 
 pleads with us to open the door of our hearts for His 
 reception. Let us give full heed to Him, and en- 
 deavour to obey His call, imploring Him to aid us in 
 complying with it, and never for a moment doubting 
 
with the sons of men. 7 1 
 
 that grace will be given to work in us all that He is 
 requiring and expecting of us. 
 
 And that we may be the more encouraged thus 
 to act, let us mark here, the free and full warrant 
 which all sinners have to comply with this invita- 
 tion. '* If any man hear my voice " is the Saviour's 
 language, no matter who or what manner of man 
 he be. All are invited, yea, rather imporhi7ied, to 
 take full advantage of the call that is addressed 
 to them. Why then, I ask, should sinners ever 
 make it a question, whether or no they be war- 
 ranted to receive the Saviour ? In point of fact they 
 are not warranted to reject Him. To receive Him 
 is their duty no less than their privilege. It is what 
 they are not only permitted but required to do, — 
 required, at one time, by commandments the most 
 peremptory, and, at another time, by entreaties the 
 most persuasive. Yes, doubting soul, the Lord Jesus 
 Christ is knocking at thy door, and urging thee, by 
 the most pressing solicitations, to do that which thou 
 fearest thou must not venture or presume to do ! 
 O thou of little faith, wherefore shouldst thou thus 
 doubt? Look once again at the terms of His pro- 
 posal. He makes no exceptions. He prohibits 
 none. He welcomes all. " If any man,'' W& sduys — 
 if the most vile man, the most heinous sinner, the 
 most hardened reprobate, the man who has most 
 of all tempted and provoked me, the man who has 
 opposed the stoutest, the longest, the most obstinate 
 resistance to all my past remonstrances with him 
 — " if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I 
 will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he 
 with me." 
 
72 The Son of God pleading 
 
 V. There Is one other point connected with our 
 subject which remains to be considered, — the P^'o- 
 inise which the Saviour here makes, to such as will 
 grant Him an entrance into their hearts : " / will 
 cojne in to him, and will sup with him, and he with 
 me. 
 
 " /will come in to hi7n." The Lord here graciously 
 engages to accept of that surrender of the soul, tardy 
 though it be, which may at length be made to Him. 
 He will enter into the heart that is opened to Him, 
 and dwell in it as His chosen residence. He will 
 manifest His presence in it by the light, and peace, 
 and consolation, with which He jfills it, as well as by 
 the beauties of holiness, wherewith, through His in- 
 dwelling Spirit, it becomes adorned. He will make 
 it His own, expelling all its idols, assuming the 
 supreme and undivided dominion over it, and adapt- 
 ing to His own use its every faculty and affection. 
 And He will cheer its possessor with His fellowship, 
 not walking with. Him merely as a casual associate, 
 but co7ning in to hi7n as His most familiar friend. 
 Surely, my dear Brethren, it is a peculiar privilege 
 to have " Christ thus dwelling in our hearts by faith.'' 
 Well may we say of Him, as was said on one occasion, 
 " Lord, we are not worthy that thou shouldest come 
 under our roof." How great the blessedness, to have 
 the King of glory taking up His residence with us, 
 making our poor unworthy souls His dwelling-place, 
 and filling us with the fulness of His grace ! 
 
 This, however, is not all. The Lord Jesus further 
 assures us, that He will graciously condescend, if we 
 hear His voice, not only to be received, but even to 
 be entertained by us. He promises to ''sup with 
 
with the sons of men, 73 
 
 us^' — partaking of our hospitality, regaling Himself 
 with the tokens of our regard, feasting on such fruits 
 of penitence and faith as we may by His grace be 
 enabled to set before Him, It is indeed but a sorry 
 repast we have to give Him, wretchedly coarse and 
 scanty in itself, and miserably disproportioned to the 
 claims of such a guest. Poor though it be, how- 
 ever, He will not scorn it. If furnished by a sincere 
 and faithful heart, it will be in His esteem of the 
 sweetest taste and of the richest savour. For the 
 Lord, as it is written, " taketh pleasure in His people." 
 " Since they were precious in His sight, they have 
 become honourable." He rejoices in all the graces 
 which they exhibit, and in all the good works which, 
 by faith, they may be led to perform. These are the 
 " pleasant fruits " of which it is His delight to taste. 
 There may be much in them of weakness and imper- 
 fection. But this does not hinder the merciful 
 Redeemer from being regaled and gladdened by the 
 contemplation of them; for "when there is first a will- 
 ing mind, our gifts are accepted according to what 
 we have, and not according to what we have not." 
 Our feeblest graces and most imperfect services will 
 be a feast of joy to our Divine Visitant, if they be 
 indeed presented in sincerity, as tokens of faith and 
 tributes of affection. 
 
 Even this, however, does not exhaust the promise; 
 for, the Saviour not only declares to the complying 
 sinner, " I will sup with him, " but adds, " and he 
 with me." He does not come to our door, you per- 
 ceive, unprovided. He wishes us, indeed, to receive 
 Him as our guest ; but He is a royat Guest, who 
 honours us by His company, and who brings the 
 
74 The Soil of God pleading 
 
 better part of the entertainment with Him. And 
 while He disdains not to accept of that humble and 
 scanty fare which alone we can set before Him, He 
 produces out of His own abundant stores rich and 
 rare dainties for our nourishment and refreshment. 
 " It pleased the Father that in Him all fulness should 
 dwell ; " and of His fulness we are called to be par- 
 takers. If we hunger and thirst after righteousness 
 He will fill us, satisfying our souls with the bread 
 and the water of life. Nor is the repast which He 
 provides for us of such a nature, as merely to supply 
 our indispensable wants ; it is fitted, at the same time, 
 to gladden and to cheer us. What exceedingly great 
 and precious promises does He give, for the feeding 
 of our hopes and the increase of our graces ! What 
 delectable tokens of His love, what satisfying assur- 
 ances of His mercy, what pure and peaceful experi- 
 ences of His fellowship, what blissful and elevating 
 foretastes of His heavenly glory, does He graciously 
 afford for our comfort and contentment ! Truly we 
 are brought into His banqueting-house to "a feast of 
 fat things, a feast of wines on the lees, of fat things 
 full of marrow, of wines on the lees well refined ; " 
 and His banner over us is love. 
 
 And now, my dear friends, that you have had the 
 Saviour's application in the text, with all plainness of 
 speech unfolded and explained to you, it is for you 
 to say what answer you will give to it. Will you 
 comply with it, or will you set it at nought ? 
 
 Be persuaded, I beseech you, to listen to His call. 
 Suffer not the merciful Redeemer to plead in vain. 
 Do not mock Him, by coming to His house, while 
 you will not allow Him to come into your hearts. 
 
with the sons of men. 75 
 
 But let it be the language of your souls, " Come in, 
 Thou blessed Lord ; wherefore standest Thou with- 
 out ? Do Thou Thyself prepare the way of entrance, 
 and make our hearts ready to welcome Thee." 
 
 May the blessed Lord Himself, who holds in His 
 hand the key of David, opening so that no man can 
 shut, and shutting so that no man can open, — may 
 even He by His all-prevailing grace set open our 
 inmost hearts to receive Him; and may He make 
 them a temple fitting for His residence, that He 
 may indeed dwell in us, and work in us all the good 
 pleasure of His goodness ! 
 
76 
 
 V. 
 
 EARNEST RELIGION NOT MADNESS. 
 
 "And as he thus spake for himself, Festus said with a loud voice, Paul, 
 thou art beside thyself ; much learning doth make thee mad. But he 
 said, I am not mad, most noble Festus ; but speak forth the words of truth 
 and soberness." — Acts, xxvi. 24, 25. 
 
 The charge so inconsiderately advanced, and with 
 such calm dignity repelled, in these verses, is quite 
 in keeping with the judgments usually formed by 
 worldly men, regarding the character of earnest and 
 devoted Christians. Nothing is more common than 
 for persons, who are themselves reckless or lukewarm 
 about religion, to advance, in one shape or in another, 
 the charge of mental imbecility or derangement, 
 against any one who thinks it necessary to exceed 
 them in His serious regard for the concerns and 
 duties of a godly life. It is still as true, as it ever 
 was, of the children of God, that " the world knoweth 
 them not." Their character is such as ungodly men 
 are alike incapable of understanding and of appreciat- 
 ing. They must make up their minds, therefore, to 
 meet with little sympathy from very many of those 
 among whom their lot is cast, and must not think 
 " some strange thing has happened unto them," 
 
Earnest Religion not Madness. 77 
 
 should they meet occasionally with the same despite- 
 ful treatment, of which their blessed Lord had so 
 frequently occasion to complain. The more nearly 
 they resemble Him indeed, so much the more likely 
 are they to be, as He was, derided or dis-esteemed. 
 The more devotedly and earnestly they serve Him, 
 so much the more readily will their conduct be con- 
 demned, as if by way of retaliation, by those who 
 cannot help seeing in it a silent, but most forcible, 
 condemnation of their own. The world will be 
 sure, in a greater or less degree, according to the 
 very growth and vigour of their spiritual attain- 
 ments, to question either their sobriety or their 
 sincerity. And, if it cannot with any show of plausi- 
 bility express a doubt of the uprightness of their pro- 
 fessions, it will try to discredit the soundness of their 
 views and judgments. It will look upon them as 
 " visionary," or " weak," or " superstitious," or " en- 
 thusiastic," when the truth is, that they have sound 
 minds, warm hearts, tender consciences, clearness of 
 discernment to approve the better part, and rectitude 
 of will to choose it and to cleave to it. 
 
 No wonder that Festus thought Paul " beside him- 
 self," when so many, nowadays, with far greater 
 light than he, are ready to form the same estimate of 
 persons, who come incomparably short of the Apostle 
 in all those features of character and conduct, which 
 might have in any way exposed him to the imputa- 
 tion. For, where are the Christians to be met with 
 at the present day, who lead such lives of strict, and 
 marked, and unswerving conformity to the Gospel — 
 who show such zeal, perform such labours, and make 
 such sacrifices for the promotion of its interests, as 
 
yS Earnest Religion not Madness. 
 
 did this ardent and devoted servant of the Lord ? 
 It will not be maintained, that there are any to be 
 now met with who can, in these respects, be likened to 
 him, even among those who are most of all decried 
 by an ungodly world as foolish or fanatical. We can- 
 not wonder, then, that St Paul should have been as- 
 sailed with the same charge, which is still so ready 
 to be hurled against many, who, in everything calcu- 
 lated to provoke it, are so far behind him. Least of 
 all is it matter of surprise, that Festus, an unbeliever 
 and a heathen, one who had no knowledge and no 
 conviction of Christian truth, should have uttered a 
 reproach which is so frequently re-echoed by nominal 
 friends and adherents of the Christian cause. For, 
 certainly, the history and conduct of the Apostle were 
 such as the Roman Governor must have felt himself 
 altogether unable to account for, by any of the ordi- 
 nary principles of human action. When he thought 
 of a man of Paul's high talents and accomplishments, 
 fair worldly prospects and rising reputation, strong 
 sectarian prejudices and seemingly implacable enmity 
 to the Christian cause, — when he thought of such a 
 one utterly foregoing all that had once been most 
 highly valued by him, renouncing his cherished 
 opinions, exposing himself to losses the most serious, 
 labours the most arduous, dangers the most formid- 
 able, insults the most galling, and sufferings the most 
 severe, with the prospect of no earthly recompense 
 to counterbalance them, and all for the sake of that 
 persecuted faith, of which he had himself been one of 
 the bitterest adversaries, — it was not unnatural that 
 Festus should, in his perplexity, have sought an ex- 
 planation of a phenomenon so strange, in the hasty 
 
Earnest Religion not Madness. 79 
 
 and reckless assertion of the text, *' Paul, thou art 
 beside thyself; much learning doth make thee mad." 
 
 But, was it really so ? Is this the true solution of 
 the matter ? Is there the smallest ground for trac- 
 ing the Apostle's conduct to any such cause as this 
 heathen has assigned for it ? 
 
 No one, who has candidly marked his history or 
 perused his writings, can for a moment entertain such 
 a thought. 
 
 We never find in the great Apostle of the Gentiles 
 any symptoms of that distempered gloom, or narrow 
 bigotry, or turgid vanity, or reckless indiscretion, or 
 extravagant vehemence, by which visionaries and 
 fanatics are always more or less distinguished. 
 
 Great as was the ardour of his zeal, it was always 
 tempered and regulated by a sound discretion, lead- 
 ing him, in so far as duty would admit, to deal for- 
 bearingly with the prejudices of his opponents ; to 
 treat them, as we find him doing on the present 
 occasion, with the fullest measure of courtesy and 
 politeness ; and in fact to " become all things to all 
 men," that so he might the more easily and effectu- 
 ally win them to the reception of the truth. Profound 
 as was the depth of his contrition, for his former blas- 
 phemies and persecutions of the Christian cause, it 
 dictated to him no gloomy penances, no extravagant 
 mortifications and austerities, nothing but the simple 
 and reasonable service of a life devoted to the glory 
 of his Redeemer. Strict as was his adherence to his 
 principles, and uncompromising as was his firmness 
 in contending for them, he exhibited none of that 
 frivolous preciseness in regard to matters of mere 
 
8o Earnest Religion not Madiiess. 
 
 form and outward observance, and none of that in- 
 tolerance or narrow-mindedness in things of a mani- 
 festly accessary and subordinate nature, which wrong- 
 headed men are so ready to indulge in. And, fixed 
 as was his determination to brave the most cruel 
 sufferings for Christ's sake, yet so far was he from 
 courting persecution, or from throwing himself un- 
 necessarily in the way of it, that we find him, on the 
 contrary, using the most prudent methods to avert 
 or escape from the dangers that encompassed him, in 
 so far as it was competent for him to do so, without 
 neglecting the duties of his office, or prejudicing the 
 glorious cause in which he was engaged. As for his 
 discourses, again, in so far as they have been reported 
 to us, and his precious Epistles, whether addressed 
 to private friends or to public bodies of professed be- 
 lievers, nothing can be more remarkable than their 
 sound views, calm statements, rational sentiments, 
 and solid and consistent arguments, unless, indeed, it 
 be the glowing eloquence, the unaffected piety, the 
 enlightened liberality, the large-hearted charity and 
 philanthropy that distinguish them — qualities that are 
 in every way opposed to the characteristic traits of 
 fanaticism or of superstition. Well might he declare, 
 as we find him doing on another occasion, " God hath 
 not given us the spirit of fear ; but of power, and of 
 love, and of a sound mind y And most justly might 
 he reply to the imputation which Festus had so un- 
 warrantably cast upon him, in the firm but respectful 
 lanofuaofe of the text, " I aju not mad, most noble Fes- 
 t2is ; but speak forth the words of truth and soberness!' 
 
 But, then, if the charge to which we have been 
 
Earnest Religion not Madness. 8i 
 
 referring be thus unfounded in the case of the Apostle, 
 the question very naturally occurs : Whether there 
 be any better foundation for it in the case of those 
 devoted Christians, who are at the present day not 
 unfrequently assailed with it ? Is it with any truth, 
 that those who are earnest, decided, and uncompro- 
 mising in the service of the Lord, — those who are 
 neither ashamed nor afraid to walk with Him con- 
 sistently, and to work for Him devotedly, — who, in 
 so doing, have the moral courage to be singular, 
 biddinpf defiance to the maxims and fashions of so- 
 ciety, in so far as these are at variance with Christian 
 principle, and who therefore make it apparent from 
 their whole conduct that they are animated by an- 
 other spirit, governed by other rules, and seeking 
 other ends than the votaries of a passing world, — is it 
 with any truth, that such persons can be characterised 
 as weak-minded devotees, or hot-headed enthusiasts, 
 whom over - much zeal for religion has rendered 
 "mad"? 
 
 In answering this question, as we are well entitled 
 to do, with the utmost decision and confidence, in the 
 negative, it does not at all concern us to deny that 
 folly, extravagance, and indiscretion may be, and have 
 been, occasionally associated with earnest piety. 
 
 There is nothing to hinder men of weak minds, 
 nothing to hinder silly or injudicious people, from be- 
 coming seriously religious as well as others. And, of 
 course, when they become so, it is natural to suppose 
 that they will carry more or less of their imprudence 
 and indiscretion into that new course of life, on which 
 they have entered. We have cause to be thankful 
 that high intellectual gifts, a sound and enlightened 
 
 F 
 
82 Earnest Religion not Madness. 
 
 judgment, great shrewdness and sagacity, are not by 
 any means indispensable to a saving knowledge and 
 reception of the Gospel ; but that, on the contrary, 
 those precious truths, which the wise and prudent are 
 unable to discern, are therein clearly manifested to 
 the veriest " babes," and set forth in a manner so 
 simple and intelligible, that " the wayfaring man, 
 though a fool, cannot err" regarding them. Such 
 being the case, we have no reason to be surprised, 
 that some truly religious persons should now and 
 then be found who betray a considerable want of 
 judgment, in their Christian walk and conversation, 
 before the world. But, then, it is in the highest de- 
 gree unreasonable to find fault with strict and serious 
 piety, on their account. For, in truth, it is not their 
 piety, that is at all to blame for aught that may be 
 properly regarded as indiscreet or extravagant in 
 their conduct, but that weakness of understanding 
 which naturally belongs to them, and which leads 
 them occasionally to show the same lack of prudence 
 or discretion in the practice of a religious life, as they 
 do in other matters in which they take a lively 
 interest. 
 
 What we are now concerned to maintain is, simply, 
 this — that the serious mid earnest prosecution of the 
 Christian life is not, in itself considered, folly or fanat- 
 icism ; that pure and undefiled religion, such as the 
 Bible inculcates, and such as St P^a;?// exemplified, can- 
 not be justly held liable to such a charge ; that faith, 
 hope, charity, penitence, meekness, patience, godli- 
 ness, purity, temperance, in the very highest measures 
 in which they have been ever displayed, are perfectly 
 compatible with the dictates of the soundest mind ; 
 
Earnest Religiori not Madness. 83 
 
 that an earnest and anxious striving for the soul's 
 welfare, a laying up of treasures in heaven rather 
 than on earth, a renouncing of the most cherished 
 worldly blessings for conscience' sake, a sensitive 
 shunning of the very appearance or approach of evil, 
 an ardent zeal for the diffusion of Divine truth, an 
 unreserved devotedness to the Divine glory ; that 
 these, and suchlike characteristics of true godliness, 
 although they may, in some persons, be combined with 
 much that is weak and much that is injudicious, are 
 not, in themselves considered, to be taken as any just 
 marks of a weak or disordered mind, or as giving the 
 slightest colour to the charge of madness or fanati- 
 cism, which has oftentimes been brought against 
 them. 
 
 In arguing this point, our work is greatly lightened 
 by a consideration of the parties^ we have to contend 
 against. It is not with acknowledged unbelievers, such 
 as Festus, that we have now to deal, but with nomi- 
 nal Christians, who profess to be at one with us in 
 regard to all the fundamental principles of religion, 
 and who only differ from us regarding the practical 
 results, by which the cordial adoption of these prin- 
 ciples ought ever in reason and consistency to be 
 attended. So that we are fully entitled to assume 
 the truth of all the essential doctrines, the authority 
 of all the moral precepts, and the faithfulness of all 
 the precious promises of Christianity, when vindicat- 
 ing the conduct of those who give the most earnest 
 heed to the things which it reveals, and who endea- 
 vour to shape their whole conduct in accordance with 
 them. 
 
 Taking this ground, then, we confidently affirm 
 
84 Earnest Religion not Madness. 
 
 that these earnest and devoted Christians " are not 
 mad," — their very adversaries and detractors being 
 judges. 
 
 If Christianity be indeed true, it evidently ap- 
 pears from the conduct of such persons, that their 
 intellects, instead of being darkened, or in any way 
 disordered, are clearly and soundly enlightened. The 
 marvellous light of the Lord is shining on them. 
 They are no longer blinded to the excellency and 
 glory of God, the evil of sin, the beauty of holiness, 
 the worth of the soul, the preciousness of the Saviour, 
 the shortness of time, the vastness of eternity. These, 
 and other things of a like important nature, which to 
 all practical purposes are hidden from the world, true 
 Christians have been brought to see with a vivid and 
 realising perception. Their conduct is only that 
 which is unavoidably suggested by a clear, firm, and 
 intelligent persuasion of those very truths which 
 those who count them " mad " profess to acquiesce 
 in. Indeed they could not act otherwise than they 
 do, without shutting their eyes to the plainest and 
 most important of those revealed truths, of which 
 they own their full conviction, professing to know of 
 dangers from which they will not flee, to discern and 
 deplore evils and miseries which they will not shun, 
 to appreciate and desire blessings which they will not 
 be at the pains to seek, and to acknowledge claims 
 and obligations which yet they deliberately refuse 
 to comply with. Assuredly, such persons cannot be 
 considered as labouring under any manner of infatu- 
 ation, unless it be madness to " walk after the truth; " 
 unless it be folly or frenzy to be consistent ; unless it 
 be proof of a weak or distempered mind to act in 
 
Earnest Religion not Madness. 85 
 
 accordance with its avowed principles and convic- 
 tions. 
 
 But that earnest and devoted Christians are " not 
 mad " appears, further, from the soundness and so- 
 briety of their practical judgment. They estimate 
 things according to what even nominal Christians 
 must admit to be their real value, weighing them in 
 the balances of the sanctuary, trying them by the 
 standard of revealed truth, viewing them in the light 
 of eternity. They no longer prefer " the broken cis- 
 terns " to the " living fountain," the creatures to the 
 Creator, the body to the soul, the applause of men to 
 the favour of God, the base pleasures of sin to the 
 pure delights of godliness, the fleeting concerns of 
 time to the endless glories of immortality. They 
 " count all things but loss for the excellency of the 
 knowledge of Christ," and regard the wealth of worlds 
 as insignificant in comparison with the welfare of the 
 soul. They do so, not merely in word, but in deed. 
 The judgment, they thus form, is practical and influ- 
 ential And it is only as being so, that it differs very 
 materially from the professed judgment of others by 
 whom they are derided for it. If this be a proof 
 of madness, surely we may well wish, that it were a 
 thousand-fold more prevalent than it is. For, it would 
 indeed be well, if all men were persuaded thus (as the 
 Apostle says) to *' become fools that they may be wise!' 
 
 Again, that earnest and devoted Christians " are 
 not mad" appears from the force and sufficiency of 
 their motives for all that is most peculiar in their con- 
 duct. As there is nothing that true Christians be- 
 lieve, for which they are not able to assign the fullest 
 evidence ; so there is nothing which they habitually 
 
86 Earnest Religion not Madness. 
 
 do, for which they are not able to allege a satisfactory 
 motive such as a sound mind might reasonably com- 
 ply with. Hear how the Apostle Paul explains his 
 own conduct, when some persons reproached it as 
 savouring of extravagance : " Whether we be beside 
 ourselves, it is to God ; or whether we be sober, it is 
 for your cause. For the love of Christ constraineth 
 us." The main sources, you see, of all his zeal, and 
 self-denial, and devotedness, were a regard to the 
 glory of God, a deep concern for perishing sinners ; 
 and, above all, a sense of the Redeemer's love " con- 
 straining him, to live not unto himself, but unto the 
 Lord, who died for him, and rose again." These wQ.r& 
 the motives which animated Paul, and which still 
 exert their mighty influence on all who in faith and 
 love resemble him — motives such as the children of 
 this world are alike unable to comprehend and to 
 appreciate, but such as are perfectly sufficient to ac- 
 count for far more fervour and diligence in the work 
 of the Lord, than the most devoted Christian has 
 ever displayed. Even the single consideration of 
 ike love of Christ is more than enough, to warrant all 
 the zeal which ever has been shown by those who 
 are partakers of it. And, it will be time enough to 
 charge them with extravagance, when once their re- 
 turns of gratitude have exceeded it, in all those im- 
 measurable dimensions in which, as we are truly 
 told, it " passeth knowledge." 
 
 But yet, farther, that earnest and devoted Christians 
 are " not mad," is evident from the fact, which even 
 those who esteem them so must in their moments of 
 sober reflection be forced to admit, that i7t all they 
 do tliey are really consulting their true interests, and 
 
Earnest Religion not Madness. 87 
 
 seeking to promote their substantial and lasting wel- 
 fare. They are doing so, even with reference to the 
 present world ; for it is a true saying, that " godHness 
 is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life 
 that now is, as well as of that which is to come." But, 
 still more eminently are they doing so, with refer- 
 ence to a future and never-ending state of existence. 
 They are laying up a good foundation for eternity, 
 striving by faith and patience, by self-denial and inde- 
 fatigable diligence in the work of the Lord, to secure 
 an unfading inheritance of bliss and glory, with which 
 all their toils, and trials, and hardships, in seeking to 
 win it are not worthy to be compared. While they 
 act on such principles, how can it be thought that 
 there is anything unreasonable or extravagant in their 
 conduct ? In all ordinary matters, it is thought a 
 mark of true wisdom to subordinate a smaller interest 
 to a greater, to forego in the meanwhile some tempo- 
 rary gain, or endure in the meanwhile some tempo- 
 rary loss, with the fair and reasonable, not to say the 
 sure prospect of averting some more serious evil, or 
 securing some more important advantage in the time 
 to come, — and to strive for the attainment of objects 
 which we have in prospect, with a measure of zealous 
 and steadfast assiduity, proportioned to the value we 
 attach to them, and the solid benefits we are expect- 
 ing to derive from them. Surely there is no reason 
 why we should judge differently regarding those 
 measures, which a prudent man ought to adopt in 
 seeking the everlasting welfare of his soul. 
 
 I cannot see why, in matters of religion, there should 
 be set up a standard of practical wisdom different from 
 that which is recognised and adopted in other matters ; 
 
88 Earnest Religion not Madness. 
 
 or why a line of conduct, which all men are prepared to 
 approve when the object of it is to promote the inter- 
 ests of time, should be stigmatised as foolish or enthu- 
 siastic, when we seek to promote by it the interests of 
 eternity. We do not consider the husbandman "beside 
 himself," when in spring we see him, to all outward 
 appearance, throwing away his precious grain, and 
 burying it under the surface of the earth, because we 
 well know, that he expects in due season to carry back 
 in sheaves, what he casts from him in handfuls. We 
 do not consider the merchantman "beside himself," 
 when he empties his vessel's precious freight into the 
 sea, rather than, by seeking to retain it, expose him- 
 self for its sake to the perils of shipwreck. We do 
 not consider the diseased man " beside himself," when 
 he submits to the most unwelcome regimen, and un- 
 dergoes the most painful operations, for the recov- 
 ery of his health and the prolongation of his mortal 
 life. Why, then, should a Christian be considered as 
 " beside himself," when he has recourse to a similar 
 procedure in order to promote the welfare of his soul; 
 when, rather than risk the agonies of the second 
 death, he crucifies and dismembers " the body of sin ; " 
 when he casts away from him his most cherished lusts 
 and idols, rather than suffer them to " drown him in 
 perdition ;" and when with all patience he " sows unto 
 the Spirit," assured that " of the Spirit he shall reap 
 life everlasting " ? In all the ordinary engagements of 
 the present life, we highly approve of the conduct of 
 such persons as enter, with heart and soul, on the pro- 
 secution of them ; we praise their zeal ; we commend 
 their assiduity ; we highly extol the decision they 
 maintain, the toils they incur, the sacrifices they sub- 
 
Earnest Religion not Madness. 89 
 
 mit to, the singleness of aim and purpose that they 
 display. By what strange perversity of judgment, 
 then, should it come to pass, that the great work of 
 Religion should be the only work in which those 
 qualities which are most valued in other matters, are 
 not only slighted, but positively condemned ? Why 
 should it only be in making merchandise to gain " the 
 pearl of great priced' and the " unsearchable riches of 
 Christl' that we must run no risks and take no pains, 
 if we would not be charged with wild folly or fanat- 
 icism ? Why should it only be as disciples in the 
 school of Christy that men are to be sneered at for 
 their earnestness and diligence, seeing it is the " true 
 wisdom " — the knowledge which maketh wise unto 
 salvation — to which they are applying themselves ? 
 And why should it be in no other than that spiritual 
 warfare, on which a crown of immortal victory is 
 depending, that cowardice, lukewarmness, breach of 
 strict discipline, not to say absolute treachery, are 
 approved of, while courage, ardour, watchfulness, 
 fidelity, and uncompromising steadfastness are repre- 
 hended ? 
 
 Ah ! my dear friends, did those persons who are 
 accustomed to ridicule all serious concern about Reli- 
 gion, advert, for but a few moments, to what Religion 
 truly is — did they but consider what mighty interests 
 it involves, what solemn duties it enjoins, with what 
 priceless blessings it is fraught — they would not, they 
 durst 710 1, speak of it as they are wont to do. As- 
 suredly, the concerns of Religion are no vain or trivial 
 matters, but things of the most overwhelming import- 
 ance ; so that we are ready to marvel that they do not 
 wholly engross, to the exclusion of all inferior con- 
 
90 Earnest Religion 7iot Madness. 
 
 cerns, the minds of all such as have faithfully con- 
 templated them. If any man thinks or speaks lightly 
 of religion, because he is firmly persuaded, as the 
 result of a patient and careful inquiry, that there is no 
 truth in it, let him at least have the honesty to say 
 so, and then we shall be the better able to understand 
 him. But for a man to say, that he believes in those 
 weighty truths which religion proposes to him, and 
 yet not only to slight them for himself, but to sneer 
 at all others who will not join with him in slighting 
 them, — for a man to profess his conviction, that there 
 is a God, and yet to deem it a mad or weak thing with 
 all his heart to love Him, and with all his strength to 
 serve Him — for a man to acknowledge, that he has 
 an immortal soul, destined to future happiness or to 
 future misery that are alike interminable, and yet to 
 regard the most serious concern for its everlasting 
 welfare, as a fit subject of ridicule — for a man to tell 
 us, that there is a heaven of glory and felicity to be 
 won, a hell of shame and misery to be shunned, and 
 yet to consider any measure of intense interest too 
 much, to be bestowed on matters so momentous, — this, 
 truly, is a mode of thinking and of judging, for which, 
 on any other principle than the desperate blindness 
 and deceitfulness of the carnal mind, it were altogether 
 impossible to account. Certainly its truth being once 
 admitted. Religion is, of all things in the world, the 
 one with respect to which no measure of earnestness 
 and diligence can be excessive. Even the wildest 
 enthusiasm about it is far less culpable and far less 
 irrational, than the conduct of those who can regard 
 it with indifference. So far, therefore, ought we to 
 be from wondering, when we find any of our fellow- 
 
Earnest Religion not Madness. 91 
 
 Christians very much engrossed with a matter so 
 transcendent, that tJiis is no more than we ought to 
 be prepared for. We should indeed have great cause 
 for wondering, were it otherwise. And even as it is, 
 we have no small cause for wondering, that they are 
 not muck more engrossed by it than they appear to 
 be. I doubt not, that many of those whom the world 
 is wont to reproach for making too Tnuch ado about 
 Religion, are ready to reproach themselves for heeding 
 it so little. I doubt not, that it is often to them a 
 matter of astonishment, that they are not a thousand 
 times more fervent in their desires, and more diligent 
 in their endeavours, to lay hold on eternal life. 
 
 But here, Brethren, in further repelling this most 
 unfounded charge, it may be worth while to consider 
 for a very little, what credit is due to those who usually 
 advance it f 
 
 By what manner of men is it, that earnest and de- 
 voted Christians are usually reproached as if they 
 were " beside themselves " ? Is it by persons, whose 
 claims to true wisdom in regard to those matters 
 which they thus venture to decide, are so manifestly 
 clear and so incomparably strong, that no protest can 
 be allowed against their judgment ? The very re- 
 verse is nearer to the truth. For with all their pre- 
 tensions to superior wisdom and sobriety of mind, 
 they are in reality much more liable to the charge 
 which they advance than are those whom they 
 assail with it. Theirs is the folly, — theirs is the 
 madness, in making so light of the things which con- 
 cern their peace. 
 
 The Scriptures, speaking of unconverted men, tell 
 
92 Earnest Religion not Madness. 
 
 us that " their hearts are full of evil, and that madness 
 is in their hearts while they live." Nor, can we doubt, 
 that this description is a true one. For what, indeed, 
 is the whole life of those men who are living without 
 God in the world, and giving no very earnest and 
 engrossing heed to the great concerns of religion and 
 eternity ? What, I ask, is the whole life of such men, 
 but one habitual course of phrensy or fatuity? They 
 may indeed, like many deemed to be of unsound mind, 
 be able to conduct themselves very rationally with 
 reference to all subjects except that one, regarding 
 which their intellect happens to be obscured. And 
 even with regard to Religion itself they may, so to 
 speak, have, now and then, their lucid intervals — 
 their times of comparative soundness and sobriety. 
 But still, in regard to this most momentous of all con- 
 cerns, they prove by the habitual tenor of their con- 
 duct that their minds are in a lamentable state of 
 darkness and disorder. And indeed there is scarcely 
 a symptom of madness that can be thought of, but 
 something more or less resembling it might be found 
 in them. Is a madman deluded? Is he apt to enter- 
 tain unfounded and extravagant ideas of his own 
 condition ? Does he, in the wanderings of a wild 
 fancy, suppose himself to be a king, or a conqueror, 
 or a philosopher, and mistake the miserable furniture 
 of his cell for the ensigns of royalty or the badges of 
 distinction ? No such delusion can be grosser than 
 that of the sinner, who thinks that he is spiritually 
 rich and increased with goods, when in fact, he is 
 poor and miserable and naked, — who says to his soul, 
 " Peace, peace," when there is no peace, — who flatters 
 himself that he has nothing to apprehend, while his 
 
Earnest Religion not Madness. 93 
 
 sins are all unrepented of and unforgiven, and the 
 wrath of God is continually hanging over him, with 
 nothing but the frail thread of human life to prevent 
 its fall. Does the madman usually engross himself 
 with trifles, such as in his sober senses he would 
 fling away for more becoming and profitable occupa- 
 tions ? In this, too, he is but a fit emblem of the sin- 
 ner, who, having a heavenly inheritance to secure, 
 can set himself down to toil or sport with earthly 
 vanities, — spending his money for that which is not 
 bread, and wasting his labour on that which cannot 
 satisfy. Does the madman recklessly expose himself 
 to obvious dangers ? Will he rush into the flames, 
 or dance upon a precipice, or plunge into the deep, 
 regardless of the consequences ? Yea, will he even 
 court his own destruction, and wilfully seek to termi- 
 nate his own existence ? He cannot do worse in this 
 respect than the careless sinner, " who wildly sports 
 him on those slippery places which overhang the gulf 
 of everlasting ruin," or lifts his suicidal hand against 
 the life of his own most precious soul. 
 
 Such are a few of the plain symptoms of that moral 
 insanity, which may, with all justice, be ascribed to 
 those persons who give themselves no serious con- 
 cern for the duties of religion and the destinies of a 
 future world. Yet these are the men by whom earn- 
 est Christians are derided ! These are the men who 
 look upon decided piety, as something approaching 
 to phrensy or imbecility! These are the men that 
 are ready to sneer at the conduct of all who are more 
 deeply concerned than themselves for the things of 
 religion and eternity, and sweepingly to denounce 
 them, without the least distinction, as persons of weak 
 
94 Earnest Religion not Madness. 
 
 judgments or distempered imaginations ! Judge ye, 
 what weight is due to their decision. If there be any 
 truth in what we have been stating, their charge may 
 be not only repelled, but retorted. We may fling 
 back on theiJi the reproach which they would cast 
 upon tis, and we may confidently affirm, that it is they 
 who are " beside themselves." For, truly, there are 
 none who may more justly be so described. There 
 is no one so "beside himself" as the heedless sinner, 
 who lives here as if he were to live for ever. There 
 is no such madman as he who misemploys his whole 
 activity and ingenuity upon toys and trifles, to the 
 utter neglect of those all-important ends for which 
 existence has been given and redemption has been 
 offered to him, — no such madman as he who ac- 
 knowledges that there is but a step between him 
 and death — that it wants but an unexpected fever, or 
 a sudden fall, or the failure of some slender blood- 
 vessel, to cut the thread of life asunder and let him 
 sink by his own weight into perdition, — and yet can 
 live on regardless of such affecting truths, and slum- 
 ber or dream away his lifetime amid the cares, and 
 toils, and pleasures of the world, without any serious 
 preparation for eternity. Certainly, of all kinds of 
 infatuation, that of the lukewarm or heedless sinner 
 is the most deplorable. There is none so utterly 
 unreasonable in its nature, — none so fatally destruc- 
 tive in its consequences. 
 
 And now, my Christian friends, if these things be 
 so, need I say aught more to encourage and confirm 
 you, in steadfastly bearing all the reproaches of worldly 
 men ? To you it is a small thing, to be judged of 
 
Earnest Religion 7tot Madness. 95 
 
 man's judgment. So long as you have reason to 
 think that God and His Word are with you, you 
 have no cause to fear though all the world should be 
 against you. Nay, if ye be reproached for the name 
 of Christ, happy are ye. For this, of itself, is a very 
 hopeful symptom \h2Xy0u are not of the world, even 
 as He was not of the world. You must not expect 
 to fare better than your Lord. If sinners reviled 
 Him, they will also revile yozc. If they said of Him 
 that He was beside Himself, or possessed with a 
 devil, what less can you expect them to say ofyoi^, 
 if you resemble Him ? But heed not what they say. 
 Follow jj/^ the Lord, whatever the world may think 
 of you, for so doing. If zeal for Christ be called 
 " bigotry," and faith " delusion," and charity " waste- 
 fulness," and purity " hypocrisy," and piety " gloom," 
 and self-denial " superstition," — if to be earnest, faith- 
 ful, devout, pure in heart and speech, scrupulous in sen- 
 timent, and strict in practice with reference to religion, 
 shall expose you to the charge of folly or enthusiasm, 
 heed it not. You cannot help this. You are not 
 answerable for it. And, in the meanwhile, you must 
 patiently submit to it, — comforting yourselves with 
 the thought that the time is coming when true wisdom 
 will be "justified of her children." We would not, 
 indeed, by any means advocate an utter disregard of 
 prudence and discretion, in the manner in which as 
 Christians you conduct yourselves. It is right and 
 needful that you shoicld be prudent and discreet. It 
 is right that you should *' walk in wisdom towards 
 them that are without," taking heed " lest your 
 good be evil spoken of," and trying, as far as your 
 Christian principles will allow of it, to give no offence 
 
g6 Earnest Religion 7iot Madness. 
 
 to any, lest the Gospel should be blasphemed. At 
 the same time, however, you must especially beware 
 of consulting priidence to the detriment oi principle. 
 You must not allow yourselves, out of the fear of 
 mans opinion, to be led into unlawful compromises 
 or compliances. And, indeed, you have much more 
 cause to be afraid of not going far enotigk than of 
 going too far in your conformity to the rules of god- 
 liness. Few men need be cautioned, in the present 
 day, against carrying their zeal and their devotedness 
 to an inordinate extent. It will be time enough to 
 address to Christians such a caution, when we find 
 them more strict, more ardent, more self-denying, 
 than was that holy Apostle Paul, against whom, 
 with all his greater attainments, the charge of mad- 
 ness was yet, as we have seen, altogether destitute 
 of foundation. Be not afraid, and be not ashamed, 
 to be as liable as he was to such a charge, by reason 
 of nonconformity to the ways of the world. Do not 
 hesitate to be followers of him, even as he was of 
 Christ. And doubt not, that the Lord in His own 
 good time will interpose in vindication of you from 
 all the charges, with which you may be assailed for 
 thus acting. He will bring forth your righteousness 
 as the light, and your judgment as the noon-day, and 
 make it at length apparent in the sight of all the 
 universe, that the way of the humble and often de- 
 rided Christian is, in reality, the way of truth and 
 soberness. 
 
 I cannot leave this subject, without addressing one 
 or two words of admonition to those who may have 
 been hitherto accustomed to utter such charges, as we 
 
Earnest Religion not Madness. 97 
 
 have been trying to refute. I trust, my friends, 
 that you will most seriously consider, before you 
 again speak lightly of true godliness. I trust, you 
 will not be any longer disposed to treat it, as a proper 
 theme of levity or derision. Be not content, how- 
 ever, with giving due credit for soundness and sobriety 
 of mind to earnest and decided Christians. Make it 
 your care, also, in these respects, to emulate them. 
 Adopt ior you7^ selves that course which you commend 
 in them. Choose, as they have done, the good and 
 gainful part ; and when you have chosen it, steadily 
 adhere to it. Taking your stand resolutely on the 
 Lord's side, endeavour in all things to honour and 
 to serve Him. And, whatever a blinded world may 
 think of you for so doing, let your rejoicing be the 
 testimony of a good conscience, that in simplicity 
 and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom, but by 
 the grace of God, you have your conversation in the 
 world ; while it is your great hope and comfort to be 
 persuaded that the Saviour, whom you are thus will- 
 ing faithfully to confess before men, will not be 
 ashamed to own and honour you, "when He cometh 
 in the glory of His Father with the holy -Angels." 
 
98 
 
 VI. 
 
 RETRIBUTION A LAW OF GOD'S MORAL 
 GOVERNMENT. 
 
 " Be not deceived ; God is not mocked : for whatsoever a man soweth, 
 that shall he also reap." — Galatians, vi. 7. 
 
 The maxim here laid down is a very plain one ; so 
 much so, that if considered by itself, apart from the 
 practical application that is made of it, we might, at 
 first sight, be not a little surprised at the solemn and 
 imposing manner, in which it is introduced. 
 
 *' Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap T 
 — Assuredly he shall ! If he sow wheat, he shall reap 
 wheat. If he sow tares, he shall reap tares. If he 
 sow sparingly, he shall reap sparingly. And if he 
 sow abundantly, he shall reap abundantly. The pro- 
 duct of his field shall, in all cases, be answerable, both 
 in quality and in quantity, to the seed which he has 
 sown in it. In the ordinary process of husbandry, 
 we are well aware, that such is the uniform and 
 unavoidable result. And no man needs to be warned 
 against deceiving himself with the hope of so far 
 frustrating the manifest intentions, and setting aside 
 the fixed arrangements of Divine Providence, as to se- 
 cure, in harvest, a crop entirely different from that to 
 which the labours of spring-time have been conducive. 
 
Retribution a Law, &c, 99 
 
 You do not need to be told, however, that it is of a 
 spiritual and not of a natural husbandry, that the 
 Apostle speaks. And hence the exceeding gravity 
 and earnestness, with which he solicits our attention 
 to his statement. There is no greater solemnity in 
 his warning, indeed, than the case requires. For, in 
 moral or spiritual matters, men are exceedingly apt to 
 cherish hopes and entertain opinions which, if held 
 and acted on in reference to other things, would be 
 symptomatic of the grossest blindness or delusion. 
 Without, perhaps, venturing formally to deny the fact 
 of a coming retribution, in which they shall be dealt 
 with according to the character and conduct which 
 they now maintain, most men certainly live and act, as 
 if they denied it. The thought of it makes upon them 
 no sensible impression, and exercises over them no 
 perceptible influence. It is evident from the whole 
 strain of their sentiments and actions, that they are 
 not habitually and seriously expecting to " eat of the ' 
 fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own 
 devices." Day after day do they go on " sowing to 
 the flesh" without any apparent dread that " of the 
 flesh they shall reap corruptionr And though, to all 
 appearance, utterly neglectful of everything that could 
 be reasonably considered as " sowing to the Spirit',^ 
 they have no distressing apprehensions of their ulti- 
 mate failure to ''reap of the Spirit, life everlasting'' 
 
 And yet, one should think, it cannot be an easy 
 thing for any intelligent man to escape from the 
 conviction, that under the government of an infinitely 
 perfect God, there must be in the 7noral world, a like 
 orderly a?id regular connection of causes and effects, as 
 
loo Retribidion a Law 
 
 that which we tmiformly meet with i^i the material 
 zvorld. Apart, altogether, from the discoveries of rev- 
 elation, it is reasonable to conclude, that the principle 
 of seed prodticing fruit after its own kind, which we 
 find operating invariably in the lower, must also be 
 maintained in the higher departments of the Divine 
 administration ; or, in other words, that the conduct 
 of rational and moral creatures must lead to certain 
 results, which bear the same relation to it, as the crop 
 that is reaped to the seed which has been sown. 
 
 Nor are there wanting, within the range of actual 
 experience, various indications, more or less distinct, 
 that such a state of things has really been established. 
 There Is, for example, the judgment of our own con- 
 science, approving or condemning us according to 
 our deeds, and solemnly warning us of a merited 
 retribution, with which, either here or hereafter, they 
 shall be visited. There is the observed influence, 
 also, of certain sins in impairing the health, and 
 shortening the life, and blighting the happiness of 
 those who are addicted to them, by reason of which 
 it may truly be affirmed that " the sinner's own 
 wickedness shall correct him," and that, even in this 
 world, his sin is sure to find him out. And, there 
 Is the never-failing tendency of all our actions to 
 strengthen those habits and dispositions from which 
 they spring, and thus to contribute to the formation 
 of a character which, whether for good or evil, shall 
 cleave to us In after-years. Nor are these evidences 
 of what may be called a statural Retribution^ to be 
 overcome by some occasional Instances of suffering 
 virtue or prosperous wickedness, that may seem to be 
 at variance with them. On the contrary, when viewed 
 
of God's Moral Government. loi 
 
 in connection with these instances, they lead us with 
 all the more confidence to anticipate the advent of 
 some day of reckoning in a future world, in which all 
 present imperfections and anomalies in the moral 
 government of the universe shall be rectified, and 
 men shall be exactly and uniformly recompensed 
 according to what they have done, whether it be 
 good or bad. 
 
 Now, you need not be told, that these sugges- 
 tions of reason and these presumptions of experience 
 are fully confirmed by the clear testimony of reve- 
 lation. The doctrine of a future state of Retribu- 
 tion is set forth in the oracles of Divine truth, with a 
 clearness which it is impossible to misconceive, and 
 with an authority which cannot be controverted. 
 God has therein told us, that the life we now lead is 
 preparatory to a more enduring existence which lies 
 beyond it, and that, on our character and conduct in 
 the present world, depends our everlasting destiny in 
 the world to come. Not only so, but He has further 
 made known to us the laws or principles of His 
 spiritual government, according to which His ulti- 
 mate dealings with us shall be regulated ; unfolding to 
 us that method of acceptance with Him, through the 
 mediation of His well-beloved Son, and of sanctifi ca- 
 tion through the grace of His Holy Spirit, by which 
 alone it is practicable for fallen creatures to obtain 
 an inheritance of blessedness in His heavenly king- 
 dom ; and plainly declaring, that repentance towards 
 God and faith towards the Lord Jesus Christ, lead- 
 ing, as they must, to earnest diligence and patient 
 continuance in all manner of good works, are indis- 
 pensable to our attainment of eternal life — while, on 
 
I02 Retribution a Law 
 
 the other hand, impenitence, unbeHef, and practical 
 ungodHness must bring us to perdition. 
 
 These are the true sayings of God, as all intelligent 
 readers of Holy Scripture must acknowledge. If 
 there be truth in the Bible at all, these things are 
 true, for they lie on its very surface ; so that it is 
 scarcely possible by any heedlessness to overlook 
 them, or by any artifice to explain them away. 
 
 This being the case, we may confidently affirm 
 that men at last shall be recompensed according to 
 their principles, character, and conduct, as surely as 
 the crops of the husbandman correspond to the 
 seeds from which they spring. For we cannot sup- 
 pose that God will be less faithful in carrying out 
 those principles of His moral government, of which 
 He has given us the assurance of His pledged word^ 
 than in maintaining those laws of the natural world, 
 which He has left us to ascertain by our own experi- 
 ence and observation. He has Himself taught us, 
 indeed, to argue in this manner, from His constancy 
 in the one department to His faithfulness in the other. 
 " If," He says, " ye can break my covenant of the day, 
 and my covenant of the night, and that there should not 
 be day and night in their season ; then may also my 
 covenant be broken with David my servant." " For 
 as the earth bringeth forth her bud, and as the garden 
 causeth the things that are sown in it to spring forth ; 
 so the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise 
 to spring forth before all the nations." " For ever, O 
 Lord, Thy word is settled in heaven. Thy faithful- 
 ness is unto all generations : Thou hast established 
 the earth, and it abideth. They continue this day 
 according to Thine ordinances." In these and in va- 
 
of God's Moral Government. lo 
 
 o 
 
 rlous other passages of a like import, the constancy 
 of God in the regulation of His works of nature 
 is evidently appealed to, as a sure pledge and fit 
 emblem of the unfailing faithfulness with which He 
 may be expected to fulfil, in like manner, the declara- 
 tions of His Word. And, surely, such an appeal is 
 altogether just and reasonable. It is the same God 
 who rules in both departments. And, we cannot 
 suppose otherwise, than that there should be a 
 harmony and consistency in His whole procedure. It 
 is no inordinate demand, then, that we are making 
 when we ask you to admit, that the course of action 
 which God has indicated as necessary to secure our 
 everlasting welfare, is just as fixed as the process of 
 vegetation, or any other familiar process in the physi- 
 cal world. And if so, there is evidently no alterna- 
 tive but the reaping of a harvest of blessedness or 
 of misery, according as this course is followed or 
 neglected by us. In spiritual, no less than in 
 statural husbandry, we must take the laws which 
 God has established, as we find them. We cannot 
 alter them. We must yield to them and act upon 
 them, regulating all our plans and doings in conform- 
 ity with them. And no greater infatuation can be* 
 well imagined, than to think that these laws shall in 
 either case be suspended, in order to prevent us from 
 reaping what we have sown. 
 
 Such, then, being the manifest clearness and sound- 
 ness of the maxim laid down in the text, let us see 
 how effectually it may be used to dissipate some of 
 those delusions, by which men are wont to impose 
 upon their own souls. 
 
I04 Retribution a Law 
 
 I. Take, for example, the very common delusion of 
 trusting to a mere outward profession or ''form of 
 godliness." How utterly vain and irrational does it 
 at once appear, when viewed in the light of the maxim 
 we are now considering ! What can it avail us, that 
 we profess^ however solemnly, and appear, however 
 speciously, to be leading a Christian life, if such be 
 not truly the character which belongs to us ? We 
 may by this means deceive our fellow-inen, or we may 
 even succeed in deceiving ourselves. But we cannot 
 deceive God. He will not be " mocked." He knows 
 us, and will deal with us according to what we really 
 are. He has placed us under a system of moral 
 government, in which, according to certain orderly 
 laws and fixed methods which have been explicitly 
 revealed to us, our principles, dispositions, and con- 
 duct in the present life are to fix and determine our 
 ultimate destiny in the life to come. And it is vain 
 to think that the order He has thus established, can, 
 b}' any vaQve. pretence or semblance of conformity to it, 
 be, to all practical purposes, nullified or evaded. No, 
 Brethren ! The principle must ever remain a sound 
 one — in the world of spirit, no less than in the world 
 of matter — that " whatsoever a man soweth, that 
 shall he also reap." It is not what he see77is or 
 professes to be sowing, but what he actually docs 
 sow, that will regulate his future harv^est. 
 
 n. Take, as another example, the persuasion 
 which we often meet with, that siiicerity in all moral 
 or spiritiial matters is the only requisite, and that 
 provided a man's sentiments regarding religion, and 
 his consequent practice, as founded on them, be sin- 
 
of God's Moral Government. 105 
 
 cere, their rightness or wrongness Is a question of 
 subordinate importance. Such a persuasion as //z/^ 
 is, also, utterly unjustifiable, when tried by the plain 
 and sound maxim of the text. " Whatsoever a man 
 soweth, that shall he also reap ; " not what he thinks 
 or believes that he is sowing, but what he acttially 
 sows, is that which he shall reap. Suppose a man 
 were honestly to think that he is sowing good grain 
 in his field, when in point of fact he is sowing tares, 
 the honesty with which he entertains such an opinion, 
 and proves that he does entertain it by acting upon it, 
 will not induce God to alter the course of nature, so 
 as to save him from the consequences of his mistake. 
 It must be even so in reference to religion, if religion 
 be a matter of real truth and certainty. Either God 
 has not prescribed to us any one particular course 
 more than another, by which we are to escape perdi- 
 tion and to obtain eternal life ; or He has prescribed 
 such a particular course, and then we must necessarily 
 fail of securing its appointed results, when we refuse 
 to adopt it — even although our refusal is founded on 
 ever so honest a persuasion that it is not required 
 of us. Surely, then, it is not asking too much of 
 any man who believes that God has given tis a Reve- 
 lation of His zvill, when we ask him to admit that 
 the arrangements therein revealed, with reference 
 to the conduct and consequent destiny of God's 
 rational creatures, are just as fixed as the order 
 of the seasons, or any of the common laws or pro- 
 cesses of the natural world. And, if so, it is plainly 
 unreasonable to expect that God will alter the one 
 any more than that He will suspend the other, in 
 order to prevent us from reaping what we have sown. 
 
io6 Retribution a Law 
 
 In both, we may be quite sure, the course which He 
 has estabhshed will be maintained by Him, steadfast 
 and inviolate. And hence, in regard to both, it is of 
 the like importance that our views, by which our 
 practice is to be regulated, be not only sincere, but 
 correct or consistent with truth. 
 
 A notable idea truly, that the sincerity of our views 
 and actions, be they ever so wrong in themselves, 
 will exempt us from the consequences of them ! 
 Who does not see that if such a principle were 
 carried out to its legitimate extent, it would under- 
 mine the foundations of all morality, — destroying 
 altogether the eternal distinction between right and 
 wrong, truth and falsehood — and allowing us with 
 impunity, and without restraint, to cherish sentiments 
 the most unjustifiable in themselves, and it may be 
 the most pernicious in their practical tendency, on no 
 other ground than that they really are our sentiments f 
 Surely the circumstance of our being thus sincere 
 in any wrong views deliberately entertained by us, 
 and in any wro7ig course of action which they may 
 lead us to adopt, is so far from exempting us from 
 our responsibility in regard to them, that it actually 
 fastens upon us that responsibility, and leaves us 
 without the possibility of escaping from it. 
 
 Be that as it may, however, of one thing we may 
 be sure, that God will not alter the order of things 
 established by Him, to save us from the evil conse- 
 quences of misconceiving it. The truth of the case, 
 whatever that may be, will not shift or vary accord- 
 ing to our views of it. " Whatever a man soweth, 
 that shall he also reap ;" — the real nature or quality 
 of the seed, and not his opinion, however honest, in 
 
of Gocfs Moral Government. 1 07 
 
 regard to It, being that which determines the fruit 
 that is to spring from it. 
 
 III. Take, as a further instance of those strong 
 delusions which the maxim in the text serves effectu- 
 ally to dissipate, the trust which so many are accus- 
 tomed to repose in their ever -postponed int editions 
 and resolutions, as substitutes for an immediate and 
 earnest maintenance of the Christian life. Perhaps 
 there is no delusion more common, or more fatal than 
 this. Of those multitudes who are habitually living 
 in utter neglect of the calls and precepts of the 
 Gospel, there are comparatively few who have made 
 up their minds to a full, deliberate, and final rejection 
 of it. By far the majority of them are Christians in 
 prospect, cherishing amidst all their sins the visionary 
 dream of some future and more convenient season of 
 becoming so in reality, and silencing all the remon- 
 strances of conscience by a promise of eventual re- 
 pentance, sufficiently confident to allay their fears of 
 punishment, but at the same time sufficiently indefi- 
 nite as to the season when it is to be carried into effect, 
 to leave them ample scope, in the meanwhile, for the 
 unrestrained indulgence of their besetting sins. Now, 
 what does the text say to persons of this description ? 
 It tells them, that they are cheating their own souls 
 by an artifice of the most flimsy and transparent kind. 
 It assures them, that the harvest which awaits them 
 will be answerable, not to that good seed which they 
 are always intending and promising to sow, without 
 ever actually sowing it, but to that evil seed which, 
 day after day, in spite of all their purposes to the 
 contrary, they are suffering to spring and grow up 
 
io8 Retribution a Law 
 
 within their hearts. It solemnly warns them, that 
 while they are putting far from them what they seem 
 to consider the " evil day " of giving earnest heed to 
 the duties of religion, they are suffering their brief 
 and uncertain period of preparation for eternity to 
 pass away unimproved — cherishing within them a 
 noxious growth of evil habits which, the longer they 
 are persevered in, will be the more difficult to root 
 out ; hardening their hearts and searing their con- 
 sciences, and filling up the measures of their sins, 
 and treasuring up wrath against the day of wrath; 
 wearing out the patience of that God who bears with 
 them long, but will not bear with them for ever, and 
 grievously provoking Him either to cut them off — how 
 soon and how suddenly they know not — or, sparing 
 them still alive but to leave them to themselves, and 
 allow them to become hardened and hopeless in 
 their impenitence. 
 
 IV. Let me just notice, as one further instance of 
 those delusions which the maxim in the text is most 
 effectual in dispelling, that groundless expectation 
 which many sinners entertain, and by which they 
 take encouragement in their evil courses, that God 
 will not tiltimately inflict, to the full extent, those aw- 
 ful penalties which are threatened in His Word, but 
 that He will either dispense with them altogether, or if 
 that may not be, that He will in a great measure miti- 
 gate their amount or shorten their duration. This vain 
 presumption on the part of sinful men is founded, for 
 the most part, on the patience and forbearajice which 
 are extended in the meanwhile towards them, and 
 from which they are ready to infer, that a merciful 
 
of God's Moral Government. 1 09 
 
 God, who is so very slow to inflict punishment, will 
 in the end be much less rigorous in His dealings with 
 them, than His Word has declared Him to be. 
 
 The inference, however, is altogether unwarranted. 
 ** God is not a man, that He should lie ; or the son 
 of man, that He should repent. Hath He said, and 
 will He not do it ? hath He spoken, and will He 
 not make it good ? Yea, though heaven and earth 
 may pass away, His words shall in no wise pass 
 away. Although we believe not, yet He abideth 
 faithful ; He cannot deny Himself." His temporary 
 delay in the execution of His sentence denounced 
 against the workers of iniquity, affords no presump- 
 tion, that it will not be at last inflicted. For, it 
 so happens, that those very Scriptures in which the 
 terms of the sentence are revealed, have told us that 
 the sentence will not be executed speedily. And 
 surely the observed verification of Scripture on the 
 latter point, is the very reverse of a reason for sup- 
 posing that it will not, in like manner, be verified in 
 the former also. But not only so ; the Scriptures 
 have further told us the reason why the sentence is 
 so long deferred, assuring us that God " is not slack 
 concerning His promise, as some men count slack- 
 ness ; but is long-suffering towards us, not willing 
 that any should perish, but that all should come 
 to repentance." Such being the case, the patience 
 with which He spares us and gives us prolonged 
 opportunities of repentance, instead of being any 
 proof that He will finally retract His threatenings, 
 in the event of His patience and long-suffering being 
 misimproved, ought rather to be viewed as por- 
 tending the absolute certainty, and withal the awful 
 
no Retribution a Law 
 
 severity, of that doom, which He knows to be in 
 reserve for impenitent men, when once they have 
 filled up the measure of their sins. It is unnecessary, 
 however, to go farther than the text in order to 
 repel the false inference we have just referred to. 
 The figure there employed is sufficient to expose 
 its fallacy. No man expects the harvest to be either 
 contemporaneous with, or immediately consequent on 
 the seed-time. Nor is it any proof of the connection 
 between them being dissolved, that a considerable 
 interval may separate them from one another. 
 " Behold," saith an Apostle, " the husbandman waiteth 
 for the precious fruit of the earth ; and hath long 
 patience for it, until he receive the early and latter 
 rain. Be ye also patient ; stablish your hearts : for 
 the coming of the Lord draweth nigh." The 
 case is similar, as we are taught in the text to 
 believe, with the connection between our probation 
 and our retribution, however great may be the in- 
 terval between them. Let not the believer, then, 
 " be weary in well-doing ; for in due season he shall 
 reap, if he faint not." And let not the impenitent 
 flatter himself with the deceitful hope of ultimate 
 impunity ; for in due season he also shall " eat the 
 fruit of his own way, and shall be filled with his 
 own devices." 
 
 The specimens I have now given may suffice to 
 show you how very serviceable this maxim of the 
 text may be, in the way in which St Paul obviously 
 meant it to be applied^ as a safeguard against the 
 deceitfulness of the hziman heart in the conduct of life. 
 And, I think, you will be ready to agree with me, 
 
of God's Moral Government . 1 1 1 
 
 that there is no method by which the Apostle could 
 have more effectually enforced his solemn warning, 
 " Be not deceived, God is not mocked^' than by assign- 
 ing this weighty and conclusive reason for it, that 
 " whatsoever a man sowetk, that shall he also reap." 
 
 Besides this practical use, however, which was 
 more immediately contemplated, there are some very 
 important truths, which this pregnant maxim may be 
 suitably applied to confirm and to illustrate, and 
 which I am unwilling to pass without briefly notic- 
 ing them in connection with it. 
 
 I. We seem, for example, warranted by it to con- 
 clude, that our happiness or misery in a future state 
 shall mainly consist in the full development of that 
 character or disposition, which may have been formed 
 or matured within tis while 07i earth. 
 
 The crop which a man reaps is not only correspondent, 
 but exactly similar, to the seed which he had sown. 
 No doubt the seed is greatly multiplied in the course 
 of the process ; yet each 07ie of the multiplied grains 
 is precisely alike in nature and properties to that 
 which has produced it. It is no unwarrantable forcing 
 of the comparison which St Paul has here instituted, 
 when we venture to infer from it, that there will be 
 something analogous to this, in the spiritual harvest. 
 Nor are there wanting various statements of the 
 Word of God, by which such a conclusion is expressly 
 sanctioned and confirmed. The righteous "know 
 not " as yet, in all respects, " what they shall be ; " 
 but thus much they do know, that " when Christ shall 
 appear, they shall be like Him ; for they shall see Him 
 as He is," perfectly "transformed into the image of 
 the Son of God," and "presented by Him faultless 
 
112 Retribiitioji a Law 
 
 and without blemish^ before the presence of His 
 glory with exceeding joy." The wicked, on the 
 other hand, are repeatedly assured, that for them there 
 is no place of repentance after death, — that as the 
 tree falleth so must it lie, — that they shall hereafter 
 be filled with their own devices, — and that, instead of 
 repenting in the midst of their plagues, they shall 
 still continue to be hateful, and hating God, and 
 shall blaspheme His name with the devil and his 
 angels. With respect to both classes, we may find 
 a very explicit indication of their final destiny in 
 these solemn words of the book of Revelation : " He 
 that is unjust^ let him be tmjust still : and he that is 
 filthy, let him be filthy still : and he that is righteous, 
 let him be righteous still : and he that is holy, let him 
 be holy stills 
 
 It would, certainly, be taking an unwarrantable 
 licence with many of the most distinct statements of 
 the Word of God, were we to affirm that there are no 
 positive rewards and punishments reserved for the 
 righteous and the wicked in a future world, beyond 
 those which actually and unavoidably spring from the 
 full evolution or development of their personal char- 
 acter here. But still, I think, we are entitled by the 
 text, and by many other passages of Scripture, to con- 
 clude, that this is to be one of the 77iain elements of 
 their future portion. They shall reap what they have 
 sown — not something else, but the very things sown, 
 reproduced and multiplied — a crop the same in kind 
 a7id quality with that which they have been cultivating 
 in this preparatory state. The beauty and blessed- 
 ness of holiness, or the hatefulness and wretchedness 
 of sin, as already realised in this life, shall cleave to 
 
of Gods Moral Government. 1 1 3 
 
 them still, and form a most essential part of their 
 harvest of endless retribution to be reaped in the 
 life to come. 
 
 2. We may further learn from this maxim of the 
 Apostle, that there shall be different degrees of hap- 
 piness for the righteous, and of misery for the wicked 
 in afitture state, proportioned to the measure of their 
 advancement in the Christian graces or sinful habits 
 which distinguish them in this world. The justice 
 of this inference from the comparison which the text 
 contains, is almost too plain to need any illustration. 
 For the crop which a man reaps may naturally be 
 expected to correspond in quantity, as well as in 
 quality, with the seed which has produced it. And, 
 in another passage, the Apostle has expressly told us, 
 that in the spiritual, no less than in the natural har- 
 vest, "He that soweth sparingly, shall reap also spar- 
 ingly ; and he that soweth bountifully, shall also reap 
 bountifully." Besides, it is elsewhere declared re- 
 specting the wicked, that some shall be punished 
 with fewer stripes than others, and shall have a 
 " more tolerable" doom inflicted on them ; and in like 
 manner, respecting the righteous, that " every man 
 shall receive his own reward according to his own 
 labour ; " and that some, in the figurative language 
 of our Lord's parable, shall be made ** rulers over 
 ten cities," while others are made " rulers over five 
 cities," according to the measure in which they have 
 improved the talents, with which they were severally 
 intrusted. 
 
 This, Brethren, is a most ifnportant and pressing 
 consideration. Let sinners learn from it, how greatly 
 it concerns them to check and restrain the excesses of 
 
 H 
 
114 Retribution a Law 
 
 their corrupt hearts. They must not suppose that, 
 being in a state of impenitence, their case is already 
 as bad as it can possibly be, and, therefore, that they 
 need be at no pains to prevent the aggravation of it. 
 Bad as it now is, it may become much worse. For, 
 every additional step of advancement in the ways of 
 sin will lead them to a lower depth of misery and 
 condemnation. Let Christians, on the other hand, 
 learn from it to be more and more earnest and dili- 
 gent, in the work of the Lord. They ought not to 
 suppose, that being in a state of grace, their case is 
 already as good as it can possibly be, and that noth- 
 ing can be done or need be attempted to improve it. 
 Blessed as their condition is, it may become much 
 more blessed ; and they are unworthy of their high 
 calling, if they do not strive with all their might, in de- 
 pendence on the aids of heavenly grace, to make it so. 
 Be not content, Brethren, with the prospect of merely 
 reaching heaven, without further concern for the place 
 you are then to hold, or the measure of bliss that is 
 there to be allotted to you. If there be rewards there 
 of various degrees of excellence, you ought to con- 
 tend for one of the noblest of them. In other things 
 ambition and striving may be sinful ; but in this they 
 are dutiful and commendable, and are even neces- 
 sary to show, that you have a just estimate of the true 
 dignity and excellence of your moral nature. Seek, 
 then, to be great in the kingdom of heaven — to lay tip 
 treasures there — to secure an abtmdant entrance — to 
 reap 2l plentiful harvest — to win 2, full reward. 
 
 3. Finally, we may learn from this maxim, how 
 mighty is the importance of our prese^tt conduct, as 
 tending to shape our character and to fix our doom ! 
 
of God's Moral Government. 115 
 
 All our life long, we are continually employed in 
 sowing the seeds of that harvest which we must 
 eventually reap. Our actions do not expire with 
 their performance, nor our words with their utterance, 
 nor our thoughts with the thinking of them. Each 
 of these is a seed sown, and will bear fruit after its 
 kind. Each of them survives in us, after it seems to 
 be past and gone, and when it is perhaps forgotten, in 
 the impress which it has left upon us, or in the habits 
 and tendencies which it has strengthened and con- 
 firmed. It is matter of experience, that every after- 
 period of life is affected more or less by the conduct 
 of every earlier period, manhood by youth, and old 
 age by manhood. " The child is father of the man." 
 Such as we now are, we are as the offspring of the 
 past, the practical result, or the living embodiment, of 
 the days and years during which we have been occu- 
 pied — it may be without much thought about it — in 
 acquiring or developing the qualities that now dis- 
 tinguish us. And the like process still continues. 
 We are sowing on, from day to day, the seeds of that 
 character which will cleave to us in after-life, and 
 which, if the same course of action be adhered to, will 
 follow us beyond the grave, and go with us to the 
 judgment. 
 
 Of what immense moment, then, is it for one and all 
 of us, seriously to consider what manner of life we are 
 now leading ? Whether are we sowing to the flesh, 
 so as to reap corruption, or sowing to the Spirit, so 
 as to reap life everlasting ? Let us seriously bethink 
 ourselves, that our destiny will be determined, not by 
 some iinaginary life which we are always inte^tding to 
 lead, but by the life which we actually do lead. And 
 
1 1 6 Retribution a Law of God. 
 
 let us take heed that ours really be that life of faith, 
 and penitence, and godliness, which can alone conduce 
 to a blessed immortality. 
 
 Let all of us be admonished, as dying creatures, to 
 give earnest heed to the things which concern our 
 peace, before they be removed from our eyes. Let 
 us work the works of Him that hath called us while 
 it is day, because the night cometh when no man can 
 work. And whatsoever our hand findeth to do, let 
 us do it with all our might ; forasmuch as there is 
 neither knowledge, nor wisdom, nor repentance in the 
 grave, whither we are all hastening. 
 
117 
 
 VII. 
 
 CHRIST THE GIVER OF REST. 
 
 "Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give 
 you rest." — Matthew, xi. 28. 
 
 These are great words. They evidently bespeak the 
 majesty and supremacy of Him who uttered them. 
 It is true they are at the same time very gracious 
 words. Their gracious character, indeed, is that 
 which most readily strikes us on first looking at them. 
 But, when we more maturely consider them, we find 
 also a wonderful loftiness in them, which is equally 
 fitted to excite our admiration. It was a great thing, 
 truly, for the meek and lowly Jesus of Nazareth to 
 rise up from His slumber in the frail bark tossed on 
 the waves of the sea of Galilee, and to say with effect 
 to the stormy winds and swelling waters, " Peace, be 
 still." And, no wonder, that the disciples asked on 
 that occasion, " What manner of man is this, that 
 even the winds and the sea obey Him ? " But, me- 
 thinks, it is a still greater thing for the same Jesus to 
 undertake the calming and quieting of the troubled 
 hearts of men, and to issue his large and liberal in- 
 vitation to all weary and burdened souls, to come 
 to Him for rest. When we hear Him thus speak- 
 ing, well may we ask, " What manner of man is this ? " 
 
1 1 8 Christ the Giver of Rest. 
 
 Who is it, that thus assumes to Himself the power of 
 quelHng the storms and agitations of the spiritual 
 world, and of giving perfect peace to all who have 
 recourse to Him ? Surely there is, in the language 
 He thus employs, a tone of more than human dig- 
 nity and authority — a conscious sufficiency — a fearless 
 self-reliance — which no one could be warranted to as- 
 sume but He, concerning whom it is written, that ** in 
 Him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead." 
 
 Be it observed, too, that the Person who thus 
 speaks is the same who adds in the verse immedi- 
 ately following : " Learn of Me ; for I am 7neek a7id 
 lowly ill hearts And yet He deems it in no way 
 inconsistent with that remarkable meekness and low- 
 liness, of which He presents Himself as the great 
 model for our imitation, to claim the unlimited and un- 
 failing power of quieting all weary and troubled souls. 
 
 There are many other instances of a like nature, 
 in which the Lord Jesus Christ, without any formal 
 assertion of His Divinity, has so expressed Himself 
 as evidently to imply it. Thus, on the last and great 
 day of the Feast of Tabernacles, when, according to 
 custom, the priests and Levites were pouring water 
 from the pool of Siloam around the altar, and singing 
 with glad voices these words of the prophet Isaiah, 
 " With joy shall ye draw water out of the wells of 
 salvation," Jesus stood up in the midst of the crowded 
 temple, and cried out : " If any man thirst, let Him 
 come unto Me and drink." Here He evidently claims 
 to have "all fulness dwelling in Him" to satisfy 
 the wants of every human being. For, He does 
 not say, ** Come tinto Him that sent Me and drink," 
 but " Come unto Me and drink." On various other 
 
Christ the Giver of Rest. 1 19 
 
 occasions too we find Him, without any direct affir- 
 mation of His Divinity, assuming characters and ad- 
 vancing claims, and with the utmost calmness and 
 confidence asserting the possession of powers of the 
 most surprising greatness, such as no created being, 
 however exalted, could arrogate to himself without 
 extreme presumption — as when He declares that He 
 Is " the light of the world ; " the " resurrection and 
 the life ; " the Judge " of all nations ; " " greater than 
 the temple" of God; " Lord even of the Sabbath-day;" 
 that " He and His Father are one ;" that " those who 
 have seen Him have seen the Father;" that ** all 
 things that the Father hath are His ;" and that " all 
 men must honour the Son even as they honour the 
 Father." 
 
 All these are striking instances of self-assertion, on 
 the part of Him who was *' meek and lowly In heart," 
 and plainly betoken that conscious greatness of which 
 He felt Himself to be possessed, even amidst the 
 lowest depths of His humiliation, and which, as in 
 the text, we often find breaking forth, in the most 
 easy and artless manner. In His discourses. And, as 
 it seems to me, they afford proof of His supreme 
 Divinity, not less valuable and forcible than can be 
 derived from any of those statements by Himself or 
 by His Apostles, in which that cardinal doctrine of the 
 Christian faith has been most distinctly and unequi- 
 vocally affirmed. 
 
 After all, however, it is the gracious rather than 
 the majestic character of these words of our Saviour 
 that is most apt to strike us, and may most profitably 
 engage our attention while farther meditating upon 
 them. 
 
1 20 Christ the Giver of Rest. 
 
 This gracious invitation of our Lord is, you will 
 see, exceedingly broad and comprehensive. It em- 
 braces, " All that labour and are heavy laden " — a vast 
 multitude, truly, in this toilsome and weary world. 
 There is no specification of any particular kind of 
 labour or of burden that may be oppressing those to 
 whom it is addressed ; but be this what it may, He 
 assures them that He is ready to relieve them of all 
 the distress and disquietude that may arise from it. 
 
 It may be, that a harrowing conviction of their 
 guilt, and a vain effort by means of their own devis- 
 ing to escape from it, may be causing them to ** groan, 
 being burdened." Or, a painful struggle with the 
 sins that ever beset them, may be prompting them to 
 cry out in bitterness with the Apostle : O wretched 
 men that we are ! who will deliver us from the body 
 of this death ? Or, the restless pursuits, and har- 
 assing cares, and ever-unsatisfying enjoyments of a 
 worldly life, may be wearing them out with lassitude 
 and disappointment, and forcing from their lips the 
 mortifying confession that " all is vanity and vexa- 
 tion of spirit." Or, they may be " in heaviness 
 through manifold temptations." They may be threat- 
 ened by dangers, from which they can see no escape. 
 They may be sorely fretted by anxieties, which they 
 can find no means of soothing or alleviating. They 
 may be distressed by heartrending sorrows, which no 
 earthly sources of comfort can assuage. But, under 
 these, and all other burdens by which they may at 
 any time be wearied and overladen, there is the fullest 
 relief offered to their acceptance, in the wide and 
 unrestricted invitation in the text. 
 
 Some are disposed, to limit this invitation to those 
 
Christ the Giver of Rest. 1 2 1 
 
 who are in painful anxiety for their soul's welfare, 
 convinced of their guilt, deeply humbled for their 
 sinfulness, seriously alarmed at the prospect of the 
 coming wrath, and vainly striving by their own 
 strength to work out that deliverance, which no hu- 
 man efforts are able to secure. That the call does 
 include such persons is unquestionable. Of all toils 
 and burdens, indeed, theirs are the most oppressive. 
 And it were no better than trifling with the Saviour 
 to come to Him for the removal of any other causes 
 of trouble and disquietude, while these are still op- 
 pressing the soul. 
 
 We have no reason, however, and no right to think, 
 that the Saviour's invitation is C07ijined to such per- 
 sons. The description He here gives is more or less 
 applicable to all men, without exception, who have 
 not yet come to Him. Weariness or disquietude, in 
 one shape or other, is a never-failing characteristic of 
 our fallen race. Whatever it be that troubles or de- 
 presses mankind, — whether it be sin, or suffering, or 
 sorrow, — whether it be hard struggles, or ineffectual 
 toils, or jealous rivalries, or bitter griefs, or anxious 
 cares, or disappointing pleasures, they may all be 
 alike described as " labouring and heavy laden!' And 
 as such they are all, without distinction, comprehended 
 in the large and unqualified terms of the invitation 
 that is here issued. 
 
 I. What, then, is the blessing which all men are 
 here invited to receive ? It is " Rest," — the very thing 
 which all are most in need of — the very thing which 
 hitherto they have been eagerly yearning for, and 
 with earnest but fruitless efforts striving to attain. 
 
122 CJirist the Giver of Rest. 
 
 It is Rest — a blessingf which all creation cannot afford 
 them, which wealth, rank, fame, pleasure, learning, 
 influence, are powerless to bestow ; but which the 
 adorable Saviour largely and freely offers to all 
 such as " labour and are heavy laden," when they 
 come to Him. 
 
 But, let us not misapprehend His language. The 
 " Rest" He here speaks of is not inactivity. Indeed 
 we are so constituted, that this would be no real rest. 
 The very thing which makes many worldly men 2in- 
 easy is, that they seem to themselves to have nothing 
 to do. Their time hangs heavily upon them, and 
 they know not how to employ it. Hour after hour 
 floats lazily along, without any fit occupation to en- 
 gage in, and leaves them the victims of a lassitude 
 that is altogether fatal to their peace. Not stich, 
 assuredly, is the "Rest" which Christ provides and 
 offers. His Rest, as you may see from the follow- 
 ing verse, is inseparably connected with the " taking 
 2ip07i US of the yoke of Christian duty" which He im- 
 poses, with the " learning'' from Him, of that ''meek 
 and lowly heart" which He Himself so winningly ex- 
 emplified, and which alone will enable us to bear His 
 yoke, without being wearied or fretted by its weight. 
 Yes ! It is " Rest" in the discharge of dttty that He 
 gives us, — " Rest" in the untiring performance of such 
 work, as is fitted to employ the energies and to satisfy 
 the aspirations of those spirits which His grace has 
 regenerated and renewed. His own " Rest " was 
 found, in the doing of His Father's will. And, cer- 
 tainly. He has no other or Setter rest for His disciples. 
 He tells us, indeed, that it was his very "meat" to 
 
Christ the Giver of Rest. 123 
 
 do the work which His Father had assigned to Him. 
 And by enabhng us also from the heart to say so, by 
 exciting our appetite for this *' meat which the world 
 knoweth not," He teaches us, like Himself, to find 
 " Rest " in active duty, while we go about, as He did, 
 " doing good.'' 
 
 But, farther, if the promised " Rest " does not con- 
 sist of inactivity, neither does it consist of an entire 
 exemption from all outward causes of trouble or distress. 
 On the contrary, the Lord Jesus was most careful to 
 warn His disciples, that they must be prepared to 
 bear their cross if they would follow Him. Even 
 when giving them the most precious assurances of 
 that perfect peace which He would unfailingly be- 
 queath to them, He frankly declared that " in the 
 world they should have t7^ibulation." It is not, then, 
 rest from trouble that He promises. It is some- 
 thing far better, and far more wonderful ; it is Rest in 
 trouble — a settled calmness and composure of the 
 mind within, amidst all the trials and afflictions that 
 surround us. He teaches us to meet all the dis- 
 tresses of our outward condition, with a full persua- 
 sion that they are sent to us in love and mercy, and 
 with a patient and hopeful expectation that they shall 
 in the end be conducive to our good. And He gives 
 us such supports and consolations in the endurance 
 of them, that our every rebellious thought is quieted, 
 our every feeling of discontentment is allayed, and 
 " the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, 
 keeps our hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." 
 
 II. If it be farther inquired, What is the true nature 
 
1 24 Christ the Giver of Rest. 
 
 of that precious blessing which the Saviour here pro- 
 poses to us f — I may briefly refer you to various ele- 
 ments which are included in it, and which correspond to 
 the various sources of disquietude that are more or less 
 inseparable from our fallen state. There is, for ex- 
 ample. Rest from the load of conscious guilt with which 
 the convinced sinner is so heavily burdened, but from 
 which a blessed deliverance is obtained, as soon as 
 he looks in faith to the Redeemer bearing this load 
 for him, in His own body on the cross. There is 
 Rest from the hard servitude of the law, which we 
 might else have vainly toiled in the spirit of bond- 
 age to accomplish, but for which the Saviour substi- 
 tutes that " easy yoke " of loving and childlike obedi- 
 ence to the will of God, which every redeemed soul 
 feels himself strongly impelled, as well as graciously 
 enabled, to take up and bear. There is Rest from the 
 tumult and disorder of a sinful heart, with its craving 
 desires, its turbulent passions, its guilty fears, its en- 
 vious and fretful tempers, which, of all foes to our 
 peace, are unquestionably the most deadly, but which, 
 by the power of Divine grace working in us, are 
 quieted and brought into due order and subjection. 
 There is Rest from the wearisome pursuits of the world 
 — from the hard tasks and heavy burdens it imposes 
 on us — from the vexing cares with which it grieves us, 
 and the false promises of good with which it disap- 
 points us, — until we are brought under the teaching of 
 the Saviour, to choose in its stead the good part, which 
 cannot fail us. And need I add, that there is Rest in 
 the e7ijoyment of blessings, privileges, consolatio7is, and 
 promises, so great, high, rich, and glorious, as are well 
 
Christ the Giver of Rest. 125 
 
 fitted, did we but adequately appreciate them, not 
 only to keep our hearts in perfect peace, but even to 
 animate them with joy unspeakable and full of glory ? 
 But the deepest element and the inmost nature 
 of the " Rest " to which the Saviour invites all that 
 " labour and are heavy laden," are only seen when 
 it is considered as a participation in that Rest which 
 He Himself experienced when labouring and heavy 
 laden in the fulfilment of His Divine mission, in the 
 days of His humiliation. Whither, then, was it, 
 that the Lord Jesus betook Himself for comfort and 
 relief, in seasons of trial and perturbation ? Where 
 was it, that He sought repose for His weary soul when 
 grievously vexed and troubled by " enduring the 
 contradiction of sinners against H imself " ? H e sought 
 it, where alone it could be found — in an uncomplaining 
 submission to the Divine will, — in an unsuspecting 
 reliance on the Divine faithfulness, — and in an unfail- 
 ing trust in the fulness of that provision, which Divine 
 wisdom supplied for the fulfilment of all its purposes. 
 Thus did He enter into His own rest, with all its 
 calmness and confidence and power. He rose, on such 
 occasions, from earth to Heaven — from man to God 
 — from the ingratitude and enmity and change of a 
 fickle and faithless generation to "the Eternal God, the 
 Lord, the Creator of the ends of the Earth." When 
 weary. He rested Himself on the bosom of the Father, 
 even then entering with Him into high and intimate 
 communings regarding the eternal counsels, of which a 
 few brief and broken utterances have been vouchsafed 
 to us. At such times. He expressed not only quiet 
 acquiescence, but cheerful and grateful concurrence 
 
1 26 Christ the Giver of Rest. 
 
 in His Father's will respecting the treatment, which 
 He and his Gospel met with. He comforted Himself 
 with the thought, that all things were " delivered to 
 Him" which were needful for the execution of His 
 great and gracious work, and that by it the Father 
 would glorify His Son and be glorified in Him. 
 Realising His oneness with the Father and yield- 
 ing Himself up in holy self-surrender to Him, He 
 therein found His highest solace and joy. 
 
 Such was the Saviour's rest. And having Him- 
 self experienced it in His human nature, He sought 
 to impart it to all His followers. From the very 
 nature of things, He could not enjoy it by Himself 
 alone. Its purpose, and its meaning, and its pre- 
 ciousness, even to Him, would have been lost, had it 
 not been communicated to the weary world He came 
 to save. This, His own rest in God, He still asks 
 all burdened souls to come and share with Him. 
 He is ready to convey to them, all the elements 
 of His inward peace which their limited minds are 
 capable of receiving. He will sweeten their labour 
 and lighten their heavy burden ; amid all their toils 
 and sorrows He will give them " Rest." Who of all 
 the weary, worn sons of men is not ready to exclaim : 
 " O blessed One ! show us this rest, and it sufflceth 
 us ; only tell us where and how this great blessing 
 can be obtained " ? And in reply, we have this 
 most gracious invitation, this plainest of directions, 
 addressed to us by an all-sufficient Saviour : " Come 
 liiito Me, and / will give you rest." 
 
 HI. The Lord Jesus, then, directs us to Himself as 
 
Christ the Giver of Rest. 127 
 
 the source from which alone the blessing of true rest 
 can be obtained. Nor is it here alone, that we receive 
 this direction. For it is the clear and uniform doc- 
 trine of Scripture, that He only can give us that 
 knowledge of God, and that acceptance with Him, — 
 that enjoyment of His favour and experience of His 
 fellowship — that sanctified conformity to His will — 
 that personal interest in His promises and consola- 
 tions, — which form the essential groundwork of the 
 believer's peace. And it is most important to know 
 and remember this. It is not salvation in the ab- 
 stract that the Gospel reveals and offers to us, but a 
 Saviour. It is to a living Person that it brings us, 
 with whom we must deal for such blessinofs as He 
 has to give. "It pleased the Father, that in Him 
 all fulness should dwell. All things are delivered 
 unto Him of the Father;" and "no man can know, 
 or come to the Father, but through Him." 
 
 Yes ! it is to the Saviour Himself then, we must 
 have recourse for Rest, as for every other spiritual 
 and heavenly blessing. None else than He is able to 
 impart it — not the most glorified saint, not the most 
 exalted Angel — no created being in heaven or on 
 earth. Not even the Savio2irs own ordinances and 
 institutions must ever be allowed in this matter, to 
 come between us and His Person. We may come to 
 His Word, in which He is revealed ; we may come to 
 His house, in which He is worshipped ; we may come 
 to His preachers, by whom He is proclaimed ; we 
 may come to His table, at which He is commemora- 
 ted ; — but all this, if we come not to Himself, will 
 avail us nothing. His ordinances and institutions 
 
1 28 Christ the Giver of Rest. 
 
 are indeed very precious and very serviceable, as 
 leading us to co77te to Him ; — but, if they serve not 
 tJiis purpose, they are worse than useless. liwQput 
 them in His room, and rest in them instead of Him, 
 we are most grossly and fatally perverting them to 
 our own prejudice. 
 
 IV. And if it be here asked, What is meant by 
 " coming to Hi77t''f — I might answer, justly enough, 
 that it sig7iifies the act of faith. For in various pas- 
 sages of Scripture, with which you must be familiar, 
 " C077ii7ig to Christ " and " believi7ig i7i Hi77i " are used 
 interchangeably, as two forms of expression, to convey 
 the same meaning. Take as an example that state- 
 ment of the Saviour Himself — " He that co77ieth to 
 Me shall never hunger ; and he that believeth on Me 
 shall never thirst," where the one expression is sub- 
 stituted for the other, as indicating the same act. 
 
 But though this answer be true^ it is scarcely satis- 
 factory. It does not suffice tc- nake the matter much 
 clearer than before. Indeed I may rather say, that 
 by giving such an answer, we are seeking to explain 
 the meaning of the phrase before us by using another 
 that is less immediately intelligible than itself. For 
 the expression here employed, " C077ii7ig to the Sav- 
 iour',' is one of the plainest and simplest illustrations 
 of the nature of faith, which the Scriptures have 
 afforded us. You know well what it is for a person 
 in distress to come to af7^ie7id, by whom he is offered, 
 and from whom he may confidently expect, relief. 
 And hence you may readily enough apprehend what 
 it is for weary and burdened souls to co77ze to Ch7nst 
 
Christ the Giver of Rest. 1 29 
 
 for Rest. Thus much is certain, that the use of this 
 expression shows us that something more is included 
 in the act of faith than a mere knowledge or conviction, 
 however clear and firm, of certain speculative truths 
 with reference to the object of it. It is one thing to 
 know and believe that there is a Saviour able and 
 willing to save and bless us to the uttermost ; but it 
 is something more to '' come" to this Saviour. To 
 " come to Him " is evidently to act on our conviction 
 so far as to claim or appropriate His offered mercies — 
 to close with His terms — to comply with His invita- 
 tions — to seek i^i our own behalf the exercise of His 
 saving power — or, in the most suitable and expressive 
 words of our Catechism, to ^^ receive and rest upon 
 Him alone for salvation, as He is offered to us in the 
 Gospel." Faith, as illustrated by " coming to the 
 Saviour," is not merely the full persuasion of a 
 truth, but the cordial and trustful acceptance of a7i 
 offer. It implies not only the assent of the under- 
 standing, but, along wit' this, the consent and reliance 
 of the heart. Accordingly we find the Apostle Paul 
 declaring that " with the heart " — that is to say, with 
 the whole inner man, the desires and affections, as 
 well as the intellect — " with the heart man believeth 
 unto righteousness." And the Lord Jesus, when re- 
 monstrating with unbelievers, ascribes their rejection 
 of Him not so much to intellectual blindness as to 
 wilful perversity, saying to them, " Ye will not come 
 unto Me that ye might have life." 
 
 I need scarcely tell you, that this ''coming to the 
 Saviour " does not at all imply a bodily approach to 
 Him. That is impossible, indeed, now that He is in 
 
 I 
 
1 30 CJwist the Giver of Rest. 
 
 heaven. And even were it not so, — even were He 
 still with us so that we could actually come into His 
 presence, such an approach to Him would of itself 
 be useless, except in so far as it might be a faithful 
 index of the inward desires and dispositions of our 
 hearts. Multitudes flocked thus around Him while 
 He dwelt on earth, who never derived any benefit 
 from their access to Him. Many of His worst 
 enemies came into closest contact with Him. None 
 came nearer than the traitor when he kissed Him, 
 and the rude soldiers when they seized Him and 
 nailed Him to the cross. 
 
 Of tJiis we may be sure, then, that it is no local 
 access to Him, nor aught else in the shape of mere 
 " bodily exercise ^^ which the expression here used is 
 intended to denote. It is the spiritual part of our 
 nature, that He here addresses. It is our souls that 
 He graciously invites to " come to Him." A true 
 compliance with His call, therefore, is an tnwaj^d 
 thing — a process taking place in the hearl for which 
 no " bodily exercise " can be substituted. Let sinners 
 make to Him a7iy other approach — let them look to 
 Him with their eyes — let them listen to Him with their 
 ears — let them bend to Him their knees — let them 
 speak to Him with their lips — let them do, in short, 
 anything or everything they can think of, that may 
 have the outward appearance of drawing near to Him, 
 — but yet, so long as they keep back their hearts, they 
 are still, to all saving purposes, as far from Him as 
 ever. Yes, it is a spiritual access to Him that the 
 text requires — a " coming to Him " inwardly with the 
 soul — a turning of the thoughts unto Him — a going 
 
Christ the Giver of Rest. 1 3 1 
 
 forth of the desires after Him — a fastening of the 
 hopes and expectations on Him — a confiding of all 
 the soul's interests to His care — a seeking of all its 
 needful supplies out of His fulness. It is a realising 
 of His presence and saying to Him, truly and from 
 the heart, * Lord, I am oppressed, undertake for me ; 
 guilty, pardon me ; unholy, cleanse me ; ignorant, 
 instruct me ; self-willed, subdue me ; labouring and 
 heavy laden, give to me Thy promised Rest.' 
 
 Such is the compliance with His invitation, which 
 the Lord requires. And what is there to hinder one 
 and all of you from rendering it ? Why should you 
 7tot come, when so urgently and freely invited, to be 
 relieved from all the curse of your labours, and light- 
 ened of all your burdens, by being cleansed from all 
 your sins ? You are unworthy indeed, but not there- 
 fore unwelcome ; for He calls not the righteous, but 
 sinners to repentance. You have done and can do 
 nothing, whereby you might be commended to Him ; 
 but neither does He ask any such things at your 
 hands. He wishes you to come, not in order lo give, 
 but rather to receive. It is of no consequence, there- 
 fore, that you have nothing to give ; you have much 
 to receive, and that is your qualification. Your wants 
 and sins, your burdens and distresses, are the only 
 recommendations to His mercy, that you need to 
 bring with you. Perhaps your burdens are peculiarly 
 oppressive, so that you are greatly discouraged by 
 their weight. But be of good cheer. The text does 
 not offer rest to those only whose burdens are com- 
 paratively light, but to all such, without exception, as 
 
1 32 Christ the Giver of Rest. 
 
 " labour and are heavy laden." And the more sensible 
 you are of the oppressiveness of your burden, so 
 much the more closely you answer this description — 
 so much the more urgently do you need the Saviour's 
 rest, and so much the more will His grace be magni- 
 fied in giving it to you. Perhaps you urge, that you 
 have no special warrant for thinking, that the mercies 
 of the Gospel were intended iox yotc. But what would 
 yotc have in the way of warrant for coming to Christ, 
 beyond what is so plainly given in the text ? You 
 cannot expect, surely, to have anything more revealed 
 to you, than what is revealed to all men in the Word 
 of God ! The declarations of the Bible — its general 
 calls and liberal promises — are the only warrant which 
 any believer has ever received. The brightest saints 
 who now surround the heavenly throne had no better 
 or more special encouragement than these afford. And 
 why should they not be sufficient warrant for such as 
 you f You cannot suppose, that the Saviour is in- 
 sincere when He asks ''all that labour and are heavy 
 laden to come to Him." And yet you are virtually 
 saying so if you think that this and suchlike unquali- 
 fied invitations which you find profusely scattered 
 throughout the Scriptures, are not enough to warrant 
 your compliance. The truth is, that instead of being 
 unwarranted to come to Christ, there is not one of 
 you who is warranted to refuse coming. To come is 
 your duty as well as your privilege ; and God will 
 severely reckon with you if you do not perform it. 
 Let me beseech you then. Brethren, utterly to throw 
 aside all such unworthy suspicions of the Saviour's 
 grace. Venture to tj'ust in Him ; take Him at His 
 
Christ the Giver of Rest. 1 33 
 
 word ; and you may rest assured He will not fail 
 or disappoint you. Never has He sent any humble 
 applicant empty away. Still is He true as ever to 
 His sure promise — '* Him that cometh unto Me, / 
 will in 710 wise cast out!' 
 
 Allow me, finally, to observe that the invitation 
 given us in the text, is one which we must be habitu- 
 ally complying with. We have not done with it, when 
 once we have accepted of it. It is still offered to us, 
 and pressed upon us from day to day. It is meant 
 not only for awakened sinners, but for true believers. 
 It is the constafit invitation of the Saviour to His 
 own faithful people, who have already come to Him, 
 as well as to sinners, who have hitherto refused to 
 come. The most sincere Christians have many bur- 
 dens to depress and weary them. Cares often dis- 
 quiet them. Sorrows often afflict them. Doubts, 
 and difficulties, and temptations often -harass them. 
 Sins, alas ! but too easily beset them. And where, 
 in such circumstances, are they to seek relief except 
 where they first found it, in the never-failing grace of 
 Christ? Blessed be His name, we are always wel- 
 come to Him. He is neither wearied nor displeased 
 by the utmost frequency and largeness of our appli- 
 cations. The oftener we come to Him, indeed, we 
 are the more welcome. And there is no more accept- 
 able way in which we can acknowledge the grace we 
 have already received from Him, than by earnestly 
 looking and urgently pleading for more and more of 
 it. Be it our care, then, constantly and habitually, to 
 comply with this gracious invitation of our Saviour, 
 
1 34 Christ the Giver of Rest. 
 
 at all times, and under all circumstances, so that the 
 whole of our life which we are now leading in the 
 body may be a life of faith on the Son of God. If 
 we strive, with His gracious aid, to make it so, our 
 souls will be constantly nourished and refreshed with 
 the fulness of the comfort and blessedness which are 
 derived from Him; and, at last, we will be brought 
 to that land of heavenly promise, where we shall rest 
 ivith Him and joy in Him for ever. 
 
135 
 
 VIII. 
 
 FAITH'S VICTORY OVER THE WORLD. 
 
 "And this is the victory that overcometh the world, even our faith." — 
 I John, v. 4. 
 
 Glorious things are written in the Scriptures con- 
 cerning the power and influence of Faith. Mighty 
 works are said to be done by it. Blessings inestim- 
 ably precious are connected with it. Everything, 
 indeed, that is excellent in the believer's character — 
 everything that is happy in his experience — every- 
 thing that is lofty in his privileges — everything that 
 is glorious in his destiny, — is traced, directly or indi- 
 rectly, to its operation. We have on record its 
 achievements, in the days of old. Many a bright 
 pattern has been left us of the trials it has borne, the 
 dangers it has braved, the battles it has fought, and 
 the conquests it has won. Nor is there any reason 
 to suppose, that such things are now beyond its 
 power. On the contrary, they have been written as 
 examples to us — examples of what Faith has once done 
 for men of like passions with ourselves, and of what, 
 even in these days, it may again accomplish. Physical 
 miracles, indeed, are no longer to be expected from 
 it ; but, in other respects, its influence is the same as 
 
1 36 Faith's Victory over the IVorld. 
 
 ever. It is, eveji now, the " like precious" and power- 
 ful Faith. Even now, is that statement of the Divine 
 Word a faithful saying : " 1/ thotc canst believe, all 
 things are possible to him that believeth." 
 
 For, the most glorious of those attainments which 
 have at any time been made by this principle are still, 
 as much as ever, within its reach. Faith can yet work 
 wonders in the spiritual world, as great as any that 
 it once wrought in the natiiral world. It still can 
 cure the maladies of the soul. It still can raise the 
 dead in sin, to newness of life. It still can cast out 
 the demon of indwelling corruption from the heart. 
 It still can take up the mountains of iniquity and 
 throw them into the depths of forgetfulness. It still 
 can " quench the violence of fire," enabling us to pass 
 unharmed through the midst of the furnace of afflic- 
 tion. It still can" stop the mouth " of that " roaring 
 lion who goeth about seeking whom he may devour." 
 It still can subdue the kingdoms of this world, and 
 " put to flight the armies of the aliens," causing us to 
 " wax valiant in fight," and making us in all things 
 " more\ki2Sv conquerors through Him that loved us." 
 
 In the words which form the subject of our dis- 
 course, the Apostle briefly but forcibly describes to us 
 one of the noblest achievements of Christian Faith. 
 He speaks of it, as conquering the world, — or, in other 
 words, as prevailing against those influences adverse 
 to the welfare of our souls, which temporal objects 
 are so apt to exercise upon us. This conquest he had 
 ascribed, in the previous clause, to all the true children 
 of God, — declaring without any reservation, that 
 "whatsoever is born of God overcometh the world." 
 In the following verse he claims it for believers, and 
 
Fait lis Victory over the IVorld. 1 37 
 
 for them atone, as their distinguishing prerogative, 
 asking, with the decision and boldness of one who 
 knew the challenge to be unanswerable : " Who is he 
 that overcometh the world, but he that believeth that 
 Jesus is the Son of God ? " And, in the text, he 
 tells us of the instrument whereby this signal triumph 
 is secured : " This is the victory that overcometh the 
 world, even our faiths 
 
 The necessity of such a conquest as is thus de- 
 scribed, in order to the consistent maintenance of our 
 profession, may here be reasonably assumed. No 
 experienced Christian can be ignorant of this neces- 
 sity ; scarcely any reflecting man can fail to admit 
 it. The world is certainly opposed, in many ways, 
 to our steadfastness and advancement in religion. 
 Countless are the checks and hindrances which it 
 gives us, formidable the obstacles which it places in 
 our way, wily and ensnaring the allurements which it 
 spreads for us. By its fair looks and flattering pro- 
 mises, it entices us to sin ; while its frowns, and threats, 
 and crosses, and hardships, deter us from duty. Its 
 pleasures are seducing ; its glories are dazzling ; its 
 riches are corrupting ; its cares are distracting. Its 
 maxims are so calculated to mislead, its friendships to 
 ensnare, and its fashions and examples to deprave, 
 that the man who would advance steadily along the 
 " narrow way that leadeth unto life " has no alter- 
 native but to overcome the world, — arming himself 
 against those influences wherewith it seeks to impede 
 him in his progress, — and meeting them, in the 
 strength of Divine grace, with a resolute and un- 
 yielding opposition. 
 
 Now, the instrument with which the believer is en- 
 
138 Fait lis Victory over the IVorld. 
 
 abled thus successfully to strive against the world is no 
 other than his Faith, that radical grace of the Chris- 
 tian character, to which in Scripture all his spiritual 
 blessings, and privileges, and attainments, are ascribed. 
 
 As to the 7iature of Christian Faith, it may, in gene- 
 ral terms, be described as a firm and confident reli- 
 ance on the testimony of God. It is the conviction 
 yielded by the understanding, and the acquiescence 
 given by the heart, to those precious truths which 
 Scripture has revealed to us. Faith may be dif- 
 ferently conceived of and described, according to the 
 diversity of its objects. With reference to the doc- 
 trines of revelation. Faith is z. full pej^suasion of their 
 truth. With reference to the precepts of revelation, 
 Faith is a cheerful admission of their authority. With 
 reference to the promises of revelation. Faith is an un- 
 doudting trust in their fdfihnent. And with refer- 
 ence to the varied blessings which revelation holds 
 out to our acceptance. Faith is a cordial aizd eager 
 appropriation of thc'm, and especially of Him who is 
 God's best gift and the pledge of every other. This 
 is precisely the view that is given in our Confession, in 
 which it is stated, that "by faith a Christian believeth 
 to be true whatsoever is written in the Word, and 
 acteth differently upon that which each particular pass- 
 age thereof containeth, yielding obedience to the com- 
 mands, trembling at the threatenings, and embracing 
 the promises of God, for this life and that which is to 
 come. But the principal acts of saving faith are ac- 
 cepting, receiving, and resting upon Christ alone for 
 justification, sanctlfication, and eternal life." 
 
 It is not so much with the nature of this grace, how- 
 ever, as with its practical influence, that we are at 
 
Fait lis Victory over the IVorld. 1 39 
 
 present concerned, and in particular with that view of 
 its influence which is pointed out by the Apostle in 
 the text : Faith is " the victory that overconieth the 
 world.'' In what respects does this character belong 
 to Faith ? How comes it that such a power is 
 exerted by it ? Wherein consists its suitableness or 
 capacity to win for us that signal conquest, which 
 the Spirit of God here traces to its operation ? 
 
 A satisfactory answer to these questions will be found 
 by considering — -first, the truths which Faith contem- 
 plates ; secondty, the line of conduct which it dictates, 
 and the change of heart with which it is connected ; 
 thirdly, the aids of Divine grace which it receives ; 
 dind., fourthly, the expectations which it cherishes. 
 
 I. The trtiths which Faith contemplates have in 
 themselves a naturat tendency to counteract the en- 
 ticem.ents of the world. 
 
 " Faith is the evidence of things not seen." It 
 brings the all - important doctrines of religion, so 
 vividly and convincingly, before the mind that their 
 due impression is made upon the heart, and their 
 proper influence exerted upon the conduct. 
 
 That the tendency of Divine truths, when freely 
 and fully developed, is adverse to the powers of this 
 world, cannot by any reflecting man be called in 
 question. Take, for example, that elementary doc- 
 trine which lies at the very foundation of all religion, 
 the existence of a God, immaculate in holiness, inflex- 
 ible in justice, unwearied in benevolence — a God 
 whose power is almighty, whose knowledge is bound- 
 less, and whose presence is all-pervading. Suppose 
 a man had a clear and firm conviction of this one 
 
140 Fait lis Victory over the World. 
 
 truth, — suppose he had as full a persuasion that there 
 is such an unseen God above him, as that there is a 
 visible world around him, — suppose the gains or plea- 
 sures of a worldly life were not more real in his esti- 
 mation than the wrath with which God views it, and 
 the condemnation with which He visits it, — and sup- 
 pose the cares, and trials, and afflictions, of a tempo- 
 ral nature, with which he is beset, were not more 
 evident and palpable to his mind's eye than the wis- 
 dom, power, and love of that Being who is pledged 
 to order all things for his good, — is it not clear, 
 that he is thus armed against the world ? Can it be 
 doubted, that with such a conviction as this, vividly 
 and habitually impressed upon him, the force of every 
 temporal inducement to the neglect or violation of 
 his duty would be spent on him, comparatively, in 
 vain ? Is it to be thought, that the cares of the 
 world would trouble, or its fears discourage, or its 
 pleasures allure him, taught as he has been to " set 
 the Lord always before him," and to " endure as 
 seeing Him that is invisible"? 
 
 Or take as another instance that primary and most 
 prominent article of Christian faith — the doctrine of 
 salvation from sin, through the sufferings and death 
 of the Redeemer. May it not be truly said of every 
 one, who makes this truth the object of his Faith, rest- 
 ing on it with a firm and lively confidence, that the 
 world is thereby crucified unto him, and he unto 
 the world ? For how powerfully does this great 
 truth display to us the sinfulness of sin, and warn us 
 against the very appearance of that abominable and 
 accursed thing, which God's own Son must suffer to 
 atone for ! How warmly does it commend to us the 
 
Fait lis Victory over the IVorld. 141 
 
 love of Christ, — that all-constraining love which dis- 
 possesses the world of our affections, and prompts us 
 to live no longer unto ourselves, but unto the Lord 
 who died for us ! And, how clearly does it illustrate 
 the preciousness of that immortal soul, which no 
 " corruptible things " could have availed to ransom, 
 but for which a price infinitely surpassing the trea- 
 sures and glories of the universe has been paid ! 
 How striking a commentary does it give us on that 
 one weighty text, which did a man but seriously 
 ponder, no earthly considerations would ever induce 
 him to peril his eternal welfare : " What is a man 
 profited, if he should gain the whole world and lose 
 his own soul ? or what shall a man give in exchange 
 for his soul ? " 
 
 The case is similar with all the other truths, which 
 God has proposed as the objects of our Faith. All 
 of them are just so many arguments against sin, so 
 many motives to holiness. All of them tend, in a 
 greater or less degree, to counteract the enticements 
 of the world. This tendency, indeed, the doctrines 
 of religion cannot be expected to exercise, so long as 
 we do not regard them with the eye of Faith, It 
 is not the cold and distant contemplation of them, 
 nor a speculative knowledge of their nature, nor an 
 indolent acquiescence in their truth, nor the formal 
 arrangement of them in our creed, nor the casual and 
 temporary reflection on them, when any particular 
 occurrence may suggest them to us, that will 
 counteract the influence of those present and visible 
 objects, with which we are continually surrounded. 
 The higher truths must first be brought nigh to 
 us, that our minds may realise them, and that our 
 
142 Fait lis Victory over the IVorld. 
 
 hearts may be impressed by them. The " things 
 unseen " must be regarded with the same lively and 
 confident persuasion, as if they lay immediately before 
 us. And the " things hoped for " must be considered 
 as having all the substance and reality of a present 
 possession. Now, this is done by the exercise of 
 Faith. It is Faith that places the truths of revelation 
 thus presently, and, as it were, palpably before our 
 minds. It is Faith that thus realises and embraces 
 them. It is Faith that brings them thus to bear upon 
 our hearts. It is Faith that draws them forward from 
 that background of mistiness and obscurity into which 
 the continual thronging and pressure of sensible ob- 
 jects thrust them back, claiming for them their due 
 prominence in our thoughts, and securing their pro- 
 per influence upon our conduct. And thus, from its 
 very relation to the Truths which it contemplates, it 
 may be truly said, that " Faith is the victory which 
 overcometh the world." 
 
 II. Its influence and power in overcoming the 
 world is, however, more clearly seen when we con- 
 sider, that Faith is not merely a contemplative, but 
 also an operative principle. It is connected with a 
 change of the heart, no less than with an enlighten- 
 ment of the understanding. While it realises triith, 
 it also dictates and enforces duty. 
 
 Faith would be highly operative in its tendency, 
 although the doctrines of revelation were its only 
 objects. For it is, as we have already shown, of 
 the very nature of these doctrines, when faithfully 
 appropriated by the heart, to bring forth the fruits 
 of holiness in the conduct. But this is not all. 
 
Faiths Victory over the JVorld. 143 
 
 True Faith has other objects besides these. It has 
 respect to those precepts ajid rules of actio7i which 
 the Scriptures have enjoined, no less than to those 
 doctrinal truths which they have revealed. So that 
 if it be an act of Christian faith to trust in God's 
 testimony, when He declares to us the method of our 
 salvation through Jesus Christ, it is just as truly an 
 act of Christian faith to acquiesce in His sovereign 
 authority, when He prescribes to us such precepts as 
 the following : " Be not conformed to this world ; " 
 " Set your affections on things above, and not on 
 things on the earth ; " "■ Seek ye first the kingdom 
 of God, and His righteousness ;" " Labour not for the 
 meat which perisheth, but for that meat which en- 
 dureth unto everlasting life." The one act of Faith 
 may be, and doubtless is, more immediately con- 
 nected with our salvation than the other ; but both 
 are alike proper and alike necessary, in the true be- 
 liever. It were just as idle, indeed, to pretend that 
 we have true Faith, so long as we confine our view to 
 one part merely of the Revelation which God hath 
 given us, as it would be for a blind man to pretend 
 that he has vision to discern one class of objects 
 that are presented to him, while at the same time it 
 is evident from his conduct that he has no perception 
 of another class which are placed just as closely 
 and just as conspicuously before him. Assuredly 
 Faith, wherever it is real, extends its view to the 
 whole compass of Divine truth. Not only has it 
 respect to those doctrines by which the power of 
 temporal objects in marring our spiritual welfare 
 is counteracted, but also to those practical precepts 
 by which a worldliness of spirit is condemned, and 
 
144 Fait Its Victory over the World. 
 
 a heavenliness of disposition is broadly and authori- 
 tatively prescribed to us. 
 
 But further still, true Faith, while it thus dictates 
 a course of action opposite to the world, does at the 
 same time generate, by Divine grace, such a change 
 of temper and affection, as dispossesses the world 
 of its dominion over us. It purifies the heart, ren- 
 ovates the character, and opens the soul to the 
 influences of the grace of God. It takes its origin 
 and finds its consummation in that mighty work of 
 the Divine Spirit, whereby the Christian is regen- 
 erated, and renewed, and carried onwards progres- 
 sively towards perfection. Accordingly, believers 
 are spoken of, in the chapter before us, as " born of 
 God." And, elsewhere, we find them frequently 
 represented as "new creatures in Christ Jesus;" 
 " dead unto sin, and alive unto God ; " " created in 
 holiness after the Divine Image ; " " not conformed 
 to this world, but transformed through the renewing 
 of their minds." 
 
 Can it, then, be a matter of wonder that Faith 
 should gain for us the victory which the text de- 
 scribes ? Dictating, as it does, a course of action, 
 and at the same time generating a disposition, by 
 " which the world, and all that is in the world, the 
 lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride 
 of life," are decidedly opposed, it cannot surely do 
 otherwise than conquer them, in so far as due effect 
 is given to its power, and free and full scope opened 
 to its exercise. 
 
 The interference of things temporal with our reli- 
 gious duties arises, mainly, from the depravity of our 
 natures. It is the wicked heart within, that renders 
 
Faiths Victory over the World. 145 
 
 the wicked world withoiU so formidable an enemy to 
 our salvation. The world no sooner knocks, than 
 " the spirit of the world " is ready to open a wide 
 and effectual door for its admission. Temptations 
 to vanity, meeting with a vain heart — temptations to 
 covetousness, meeting with a covetous heart — temp- 
 tations to ambition, meeting with an ambitious heart 
 — temptations to folly, thoughtlessness, and dissipa- 
 tion, meeting with a frivolous and foolish heart, — find 
 it not only a certain but an easy conquest. 
 
 The case is otherwise, however, with the Christian. 
 According to the measure of his Faith, the natural 
 depravity of his character has been rectified. He 
 is " born of God ; " " born from above ; " " in the 
 world," but yet " not of the world." The holiness 
 and heavenliness of his spirit keep pace with the 
 strength and increase of his faith. And were but his 
 faith as vigorous as it ought to be, the world and its 
 prince would " find no part in him" — nothing friendly, 
 or congenial — nothing to favour their efforts, or to 
 aid their influence. His resistance to them in that 
 case would be steadfast, and his victory over them 
 signal and complete. 
 
 HI. But, in the third place, Faith is still further 
 qualified to gain the conquest here ascribed to it, by 
 reason of those Divine aids to which it trusts. 
 
 It is not by any resources of his own that the 
 Christian is enabled to overcome the world. All his 
 strength, and skill, and courage, in the prosecution of 
 his warfare, are from above. It is " God who maketh 
 him to triumph." His Faith may bring before him 
 certain truths, and dictate certain rules of action, and 
 
 K 
 
1 46 Fait lis Victory over the IVorld. 
 
 generate certain moral dispositions, which give it a 
 tendency to counteract the world. But did it not also 
 secure in his behalf the all-prevailing aids of Divine 
 grace, its natural tendency in this direction would 
 be frustrated, and its proper influence impeded and 
 overborne. For there is more than enough of sin 
 remaining within the breast of the sincerest Chris- 
 tian, to render all the energies of his Faith, if unassisted 
 by a higher power, of none effect. 
 
 But further, the Faith of the believer Is Indebted 
 to Divine grace, not only for its efficacy, but even 
 for Its very existence. It is by the agency of God's 
 Spirit, that Faith Is at first established In the soul, 
 as It Is by the same mighty agency that faith is 
 preserved, and nourished, and invigorated. Without 
 this aid, Imparted from on high, "the evil heart of 
 unbelief" would very soon resume Its Influence; and 
 faith would not only operate without effect in overcom- 
 ing the temptations of the world, but It would cease to 
 operate at all. 
 
 Now, if Divine aid be thus necessary in our Chris- 
 tian warfare, need I remind you how freely it is offered, 
 and how unfailingly It is furnished to believers ? Mani- 
 fold and precious are the promises which the God of 
 all grace has given for their encouragement. He has 
 undertaken to " gird them with strength," to " keep 
 them from falling," to " preserve them from all evil," 
 to give them " grace to help in time of need," and to 
 " send them with every temptation a way of escape." 
 He calls Himself their " refuge " and their " strength," 
 " their strong tower and rock of defence," " the shield 
 of their help, and the sword of their excellency." " My 
 grace," He says, " Is sufficient for thee : My strength 
 
Fait lis Victory over the IVorld. 147 
 
 is made perfect in weakness." *' Fear thou not ; for I 
 am with thee : be not dismayed ; for I am thy God : I 
 will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will 
 uphold thee with the right hand of my righteous- 
 ness." 
 
 Trusting to these and like precious promises, the 
 man of real Faith is fully armed against the world. 
 The very thought of them cheers his heart, and 
 quickens his zeal, and nerves his resolution. And 
 what is more, the actual fulfilment of them secures 
 his final triumph in the contest. Greater is the Lord 
 that is for him, than all they that can be against him. 
 Nothing can ever separate him from the love of God ; 
 nothing can harm him when shielded by the power 
 of God. His Faith has formed an alliance with Omni- 
 potence, and thus, although weak, he becomes strong. 
 Although of himself he can do nothing, yet, through 
 Christ strengthening him, he can do all things. 
 
 IV. I would only farther add upon this subject, 
 that the power of Faith in conquering the world is 
 very materially aided by the hopes or expectations 
 which it cherishes. 
 
 " Faith is the substance of things hoped for." It 
 imparts, as it were, an actual subsistence or a present 
 reality to blessings which are yet future. It places 
 them on common ground, and brings them fairly and 
 equally in competition with those interests of a worldly 
 nature which, being present to the senses, might 
 otherwise have an undue advantage over them. It 
 gives them, in the judgment of the believer, all that 
 substantial worth, all that urgency of influence, all 
 that prevailing power over the conduct, which is be- 
 
1 48 Fait /is Victory over the JVorld. 
 
 yond all controversy their due, but which will not, 
 while they are distantly contemplated in hazy and 
 uncertain prospect, he awarded to them. 
 
 It is to this property of Faith, as realising the bless- 
 ings of futurity, that much of its practical influence 
 must be ascribed. It were in vain to demand of a 
 Christian the sacrifice of all his worldly affections, if 
 his soul were thereby to be left a cheerless void, with- 
 out any purer and better attachments wherewith to 
 fill it. The soul of man must have something to love 
 and to cling to — something to occupy its thoughts and 
 to engage its affections. If his desires are to be hin- 
 dered from falling and creeping along the ground, 
 they must be trained up, and bound to higher objects. 
 If his tastes are to be weaned from base and sordid 
 pleasures, a relish for purer joys must be imparted to 
 him. The things that are beneath will only relax their 
 hold, when the things that are above have attracted 
 and withdrawn him from them. He will only cease 
 to grovel on the earth, when he learns to have his 
 conversation in the heavens. 
 
 Now, it is precisely in this way that the Christian 
 is enabled to dispossess the world and the things of 
 the world of their dominion over him. It is not bv 
 the utter extinction of all his natural desires and 
 affections, but by the better direction and employ- 
 ment of them. It is by the presentation to him of 
 other objects worthier far than this vain life can fur- 
 nish — objects in comparison with which all its riches 
 are but dross, all its pleasures are but dreams, all 
 its substances are but shadows, — it is by having his 
 mind's eye opened and his heart's desire turned to 
 the glories of futurity — it is by being brought to re- 
 
Fait lis Victory over the World. 1 49 
 
 gard the *' things not seen " with that confident per- 
 suasion, and the " things hoped for " with that Hvely 
 expectation, which gives them their due ascendancy 
 in his soul — it is thus, even through the working of 
 his Faith, that the Christian gains the victory over the 
 world. His Faith can outbid all the world's bribes, 
 and outvie all its charms, and outbrave, too, all its 
 threatenings. The pleasures of this life are power- 
 less to allure him, or its honours and riches to seduce 
 him from his steadfastness, so long as he looks beyond 
 them to the endless pleasures, and unfading honours, 
 and incorruptible riches, of the kingdom of God. The 
 cares of this life cannot engross him so long as he 
 chiefly concerns himself about " the one thing need- 
 ful," and chooses the ** good part which shall not be 
 taken away." The afflictions of this life cannot over- 
 whelm him when he compares them with that eternal 
 and " far more exceeding weight of glory " for which 
 they are intended to prepare him. The frowns and 
 terrors of this life cannot daunt him who, knowing 
 whom and what to fear, dreads not the reproaches of 
 man, but the wrath of God — not the loss of earthly 
 fame or earthly friendships, but the loss of heaven 
 and of his immortal soul. 
 
 Thus does the Christian rise superior to the cares, 
 and trials, and temptations of his present condition, 
 simply because he " walks by Faith, and not by sight." 
 He views himself as but a stranger upon the earth — 
 one who has here no continuing city, no fixed ties, no 
 enduring interests. He has his conversation in hea- 
 ven. His treasure is there, and his heart is there 
 also. Thither his mind soars in lofty contemplation. 
 Thither do his hopes and his desires tend. Mounting 
 
150 Fait lis Victory over the World. 
 
 up as on eagles' wings far above the littleness of 
 earth, he looks down with a holy indifference propor- 
 tioned to the measure of his Faith on all its fleeting 
 interests and concernments. 
 
 Thus have I endeavoured to illustrate the power 
 of Faith to overcome the world, and to show, from a 
 consideration of the truths which it contemplates, the 
 conduct which it dictates, the aids of Divine grace of 
 which it is the channel, and the hopes and expectations 
 which it cherishes, — that Christian faith is eminently 
 fitted to gain that conquest which is ascribed to it in 
 the text. Perhaps there are some now present who 
 may be disposed to allege that all this is but a mere 
 theory or vain fancy, and to ask : "Where do we find 
 this picture realised ? Where do we see this theory 
 reduced to practice ? Where do we meet with any 
 such mighty results brought about by the influence of 
 Faith, or any such signal victories achieved by it, as 
 those which you have been attempting to describe ? " 
 
 Now, this question might be simply answered by 
 another. When you inquire of us, " Where are the 
 results of faith ? " we ask of you, ** Where is Faith 
 itself? " Show us the one, and we will show you the 
 other. The absence of the practical effects is no ar- 
 gument that Faith cannot produce them. It is rather 
 a sign that Faith is really wanting. If a tree does not 
 flourish in due season, its root is dead. If a fountain 
 yield no streams, it is dried up. And even so, if one 
 who calls himself a Christian be not " overcoming 
 the world," that man's profession of religion is vain. 
 
 But we can give another answer besides this. The 
 doctrine we have advanced is notm.^x^ theory. Hap- 
 
Fait lis Victory over the World. 151 
 
 pily we are warranted to urge, not only a theoretical 
 estimate, but an actual experience, of the power of Faith 
 in confirmation of it. Let any of you read the nth 
 chapter of Hebrews, and then say if Faith be not the 
 substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things 
 not seen. Think oi Abraham, who, in obedience to 
 the Divine command, forsook his home, his kindred, 
 and his country, and went out, he knew not whither, 
 to wander abroad as a pilgrim on the earth. Did not 
 he overcome the world ? And have we not the author- 
 ity of Scripture for affirming that it was by Faith that 
 he did so — " because he looked for a city which hath 
 foundations, whose builder and maker is God" ? Think 
 of Moses, who cheerfully renounced the luxuries of a 
 court and the honours of a kingdom, — " refusing to be 
 called the son of Pharaoh's daughter ; choosing rather 
 to suffer affliction with the people of God, than to en- 
 joy the pleasures of sin for a season ; and esteeming 
 the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures 
 of Egypt." What a noble sacrifice was this ! how 
 clearly did it evince a heart in which the world, with 
 all its fairest charms and its mightiest influences, 
 had no dominion ! Here, again, it was by Faith that 
 this magnanimous victory was achieved, " because he 
 had respect unto the recompense of the reward." Or 
 think of yob, on whom, without effect, the world ex- 
 hausted all its trials, and the prince of this world all 
 his fiery darts, — to what but the power of Faith can 
 we attribute that unconquerable patience which distin- 
 guished him ? Or think of the three heroic Hebrew 
 youths, whom neither the wrath of an infuriated king 
 nor the flames of his seven -times heated furnace 
 could terrify from their allegiance to the living God ! 
 
152 Faiths Victory over the World. 
 
 What was it but their Faith that led them to pass 
 undaunted into the fire, and kept them all unharmed 
 in the midst of it ? — that Faith which put into their 
 mouths the noble answer : " If it be so, our God whom 
 we serve is able to deliver us from the furnace ; and 
 He will deliver us out of thy hand, O king." Or, 
 finally, to pass by a cloud of other witnesses, think 
 of the early disciples of the Gospel, who, for the 
 kingdom of God's sake, " endured so great a fight 
 of afflictions," — opposing resolutely all the powers 
 and principalities of the world, — attacking its inter- 
 ests and prejudices, — triumphing over its hatreds 
 and persecutions, — esteeming its reproaches honour, 
 its losses gain, its tribulations joy and glory ! By 
 what means was it that such mighty deeds of spiritual 
 prowess were performed by them ? You know that 
 it was by the influence of Faith. It was because they 
 were persuaded of God's will — because they trusted 
 in God's help — because they relied on God's pro- 
 mises. " They looked not at the things which are 
 seen, but at the things which are not seen." And 
 ** they took joyfully the spoiling of their earthly 
 goods, because they knew that they had in heaven 
 a better and an enduring substance." 
 
 Such was the practical influence of Faith as shown 
 by these renowned worthies of the olden time ; and 
 such, beyond all controversy, ought to be its practical 
 influence still. For the principle of Faith is always 
 the same; the same in its nature, the same in its 
 objects, the same in its tendency. It may still, as 
 justly as ever, be described as " the substance of 
 things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." 
 It still ofives credit to the same influential truths — 
 
Faiths Victory over the PVorld. 1 53 
 
 submits to the same authoritative precepts — secures 
 the same all-powerful aid — and trusts to the same 
 animating promises. Hence it is still as well fitted as 
 it ever was, to purify the heart and to overcome the 
 world. The saints, whose bright example we have 
 referred to, were naturally men of like passions with 
 ourselves, children of wrath even as others. The 
 obstacles which they had to surmount, the evil affec- 
 tions which they had to repress, the temptations and 
 enemies which they had to resist, were no less nu- 
 merous and formidable than our own. The aids of 
 Divine grace, too, by which they were strengthened, 
 are just as fully and as easily within our reach. For 
 the Lord's ear has not waxed heavy that it cannot 
 hear, nor is His arm shortened that it cannot save. 
 And need I add, that the promises of God, by which 
 their Faith and patience were encouraged, are equally 
 great and precious as addressed to us ? The endless 
 joys and glories of futurity are no less animating 
 now than in former times. The trees of life still 
 flourish in the same unfading beauty. The rivers of 
 pleasure still flow on, as full of gladness as ever, from 
 the throne of God. And the crown of glory has lost, 
 through the lapse of ages, not a gem of its inestim- 
 able value, not a ray of its inextinguishable lustre. 
 What then. Brethren ? Shall we fail where they have 
 triumphed ? Shall we tamely yield to enemies whom 
 they have baffled ? Shall the world, which they have 
 so nobly overmastered, be suffered to retain our hearts 
 in base subjection ? No, surely ! If we are sharers 
 in their Faith, we ought to be imitators of their ex- 
 ample. Like them we must fight, and like them we 
 shall be " more than conquerors." 
 
154 Faiths Victory over the JVorld. 
 
 And, O Brethren, think what a noble victory this 
 is! Who would not covet the glory of attaining 
 it ? How justly it is said that " he who ruleth his 
 spirit," keeping it free from the pollutions of the 
 world, ** is better than he that taketh a city" ! The 
 humble and self-denying Christian is, in reality, the 
 truest hero and the noblest conqueror ; and well 
 does it become him to know his own greatness, to 
 raise up his soul in conformity with his high call- 
 ing, to deport himself as one who is enabled by the 
 mighty power of God to " overcome the world." 
 Compared with his conquest, all the most renowned 
 deeds of the mightiest warriors of this earth are in- 
 significant. Their victories were outward and limited ; 
 and even when they triumphed most signally in the 
 world, they were oftentimes enslaved and led captive 
 by their own evil lusts. His victory is to be entire 
 and universal, subduing the world and crucifying 
 the flesh and bruising Satan under his feet. Their 
 victories were won by violence, stained with blood- 
 shed, and marked by devastation. While his are 
 such as best beseem a reasonable and moral crea- 
 ture — spiritual triumphs won by the power of Faith 
 — to secure which no blood is shed, no treasure 
 wasted, and nothing but evil passions and affections 
 sacrificed. The glory of their exploits was only for 
 a season. But the glory of his is eternal and im- 
 perishable. 
 
 For the conquest of the believer is not confined 
 to the limits of this earthly scene. He needs not 
 to lament, like one of old, the want of some other 
 world to be subdued by him. He has, indeed , an- 
 other world to win, " a better country, that is an 
 
Fait Its Victory over the World. 1 55 
 
 heavenly," of which he is assured, as the prize of his 
 warfare. His Faith not only vanquishes the world, 
 but takes, as it were, " by storm " the kingdom of 
 heaven; into which an abundant entrance shall be 
 administered to the conqueror, and where a glorious 
 triumph shall be conferred on him. In that better 
 land of promise, all his toils and conflicts will be 
 rewarded, and all his highest hopes more than real- 
 ised. For thus saith the Lord — "To him that 
 overcometh will I grant to sit with me on my throne, 
 even as I also overcame, and am set down with my 
 Father upon His throne ; " "He that overcometh 
 shall inherit all things ; " " Be thou faithful unto 
 death, and I will give thee a crown of life." 
 
156 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE UNBELIEF OF THOMAS. 
 
 PART I. — CHRIST REMOVES THE UNBELIEF. 
 
 " Then saith He to Thomas, Reach hither thy finger, and behold my liands ; 
 and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into my side : and be not faithless, 
 but believing. And Thomas answered and said unto Him, My Lord and 
 my God." — ^JOHN, XX. 27, 28. 
 
 The account here given of the IncreduHty of Thomas, 
 and of the means so graciously and so successfully 
 employed for its removal, is on various accounts 
 one of the most important passages in the whole of 
 the Gospels. In whichever of three points of view it 
 may be looked at, — whether as illustrating the consist- 
 ency of the Apostle's character, or as evidencing the 
 perfect candour and impartiality of the narrative in 
 which his conduct has been detailed, or as triumph- 
 antly redeeming him from the charge of credulity or 
 enthusiasm in his adherence to the Christian cause, 
 — it is eminently useful for the establishment of the 
 general credibility of the Gospel history, and more 
 especially of that great miracle of the Resurrection 
 of Jesus from the dead, on which the foundations of 
 Christian Faith and Hope mainly rest. 
 
/. — Christ removes the Unbelief. 157 
 
 I. In the first place, the recorded unbelief of 
 Thomas serves to illustrate the consistency of his 
 character, so simply and artlessly delineated by the 
 Evangelist. 
 
 There are only two other passages of the Sacred 
 Narrative in which the conduct of this Apostle has 
 been particularly referred to. And it is a striking 
 circumstance, that in both of these he indicates, by a 
 few casual words, the same prevailing disposition that 
 is here ascribed to him. One of the passages I 
 allude to, is also contained in the Gospel of St 
 John, in the 14th chapter, at the 5th verse. Jesus 
 had just been telling His disciples that He was 
 going to prepare a place for them in His Father's 
 house. And in so doing, He took occasion to ap- 
 peal to the knowledge which they might have ac- 
 quired through His teaching both of the blessed 
 abode they had thus in prospect, and of the way, set 
 open by Himself, through which they might event- 
 ually reach it. " Whither I go ye know," He said, 
 " and the way ye know." Thomas, however, was far 
 from being satisfied with this statement ; he either 
 did not comprehend its meaning, or he was not dis- 
 posed to admit its truth ; and instead of concealing 
 his doubts within his own breast, he did not hesitate 
 openly to give expression to them. He said, " Lord, 
 we know not whither Thou goest ; and how can we know 
 the way T' Here was an outbreaking of an incredulous 
 spirit, in the face of assurances so perfectly explicit, 
 that they ought to have silenced, if they did not con- 
 vince him. Jesus had just declared whither He was 
 going, and on many former occasions had clearly 
 taught, by what means alone His disciples could ex- 
 
1 58 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 pect to follow Him ; yet such was the slowness of 
 Thomas to receive the truth, that he broadly ques- 
 tioned whether, as to either point, any such knowledge 
 as his Lord alleged had been imparted to them at all, 
 or, at least, had been given with such clearness as to 
 be again recognised and accepted as true. 
 
 The other passage, to which I referred, is likewise 
 contained in the Gospel of St John, in the nth 
 chapter, at the i6th verse, and in it the same fea- 
 tures of character that are exhibited in the text are 
 still more strikingly displayed. Jesus had just been 
 intimating His purpose to* return to Judea in con- 
 sequence of the death of Lazarus. The disciples 
 had striven to dissuade Him from this journey, by 
 representing the dangers to which it would expose 
 Him from the malice of His powerful enemies 
 in Jerusalem. But when they found Him bent on 
 His design, and heard Him declare, that, whatever 
 might be its hazards, it would tend very greatly to 
 the establishment of their faith, they ceased from 
 offering any farther opposition, and, with one excep- 
 tion, seem to have been satisfied that in this, as in 
 all things, He was acting with consummate wisdom. 
 That one exception was Thomas. With his char- 
 acteristic " slowness of heart to believe," he is still 
 doubtful as to the propriety of the intended journey ; 
 while, from his manly decision and warm affection, 
 he resolves, in opposition to his own convictions, to 
 accompany his beloved Master at every risk. He 
 alone stands forth, and says to his associates, " Let 
 us also go, that we may die with Him." He sees no 
 purpose that is likely to be served by returning to the 
 neighbourhood of Jerusalem, except a gratuitous pro- 
 
/. — Christ removes the Unbelief. 159 
 
 vocation of the wrath of the Jews. He is persuaded 
 that Jesus is about to throw away His life, without 
 any apparent cause to warrant such a sacrifice ; and 
 yet he resolves to accompany Him through every 
 danger, and encourages his fellow-disciples to do the 
 same. It is as if he had thus expressed himself : 
 * Our Master is about to make a needless sacrifice of 
 His life ; but since we have forsaken all and followed 
 Him hitherto, let us follow Him still : however ques- 
 tionable may be His present movement, let us also go, 
 though it may even be to die with Him' We see here 
 the manly decision of a mind that loved and clung to 
 the Saviour, even while it distrusted Him. We have 
 traces, too, of the same sceptical tendency which made 
 him afterwards declare, that no evidence, however 
 strong, but that of his own senses, would convince 
 him of the fact of his Master's resurrection; and, like- 
 wise of the same warmth of/eeliitg, which drew from 
 him, as soon as he was convinced, the earnest confes- 
 sion, " My Lord and my God." 
 
 There are many like instances, to be found in the 
 New Testament, of no less striking consistency main- 
 tained in the sentiments and actions of the persons 
 there referred to. The whole life of St Paul, for 
 example, is a highly consistent picture of ardent zeal 
 and daring intrepidity, displayed at one period of 
 his life in the fury of his persecutions, and at another 
 in the fervour, boldness, and constancy of his apos- 
 tolic labours. In the life of St Peter an equally 
 natural display is given of affectionate warmth and 
 earnest devotedness, qualified, however, with a cer- 
 tain admixture of rashness, and of self-confidence, and 
 with some occasional symptoms of a timid and com- 
 
1 60 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 promising spirit, which were quite foreign to the 
 character of the great Apostle of the Gentiles. The 
 leading events in the life of St John, — his leaning on 
 his Master's bosom at the last supper, his standing 
 alone of all the Apostles beside the Cross, his receiv- 
 ing the dying charge of the Saviour, and from that 
 hour taking the mother of Jesus to his own home, 
 his running, with all the swiftness of affection, towards 
 the sepulchre, on hearing the report that the body was 
 no longer there — all these exactly tally with the 
 character so often ascribed to him of " the disciple 
 whom Jesus loved," and with the engaging sim- 
 plicity and tenderness which we find pervading his 
 writings. But the character of Christ Himself, as it 
 has been more fully developed in the Sacred His- 
 tories than any other, and was by far the most diffi- 
 cult to portray, is also the most remarkable for the 
 harmony and consistency which it exhibits. Piety, 
 grace, meekness, and benevolence shine forth con- 
 spicuously in every incident of His life. All His sen- 
 timents, all His actions, are of a piece. Under every 
 variety of circumstances we find nothing said or done 
 by Him in any instance that does not accord in the 
 most striking manner with the offices He sustained, 
 the ends He had in view, and the personal graces and 
 virtues that distinguished Him. Without further 
 prosecuting the illustration of this subject, however, 
 allow me to indicate to you the circumstance which 
 gives to the consistency of the Scriptural characters its 
 chief value as an evidence of the truth of those Sacred 
 Histories in which it is exhibited. The circumstance 
 is this, that the traces of this consistency are presented 
 in a manner at once the most artless and tmdesigned. 
 
Christ removes the Unbelief. i6i 
 
 Nothing can be more clear than that the Evan- 
 geHsts did not write with any studied intention to 
 depict characters. They wrote with the simpler 
 and humbler design of narrating facts. They leave 
 these facts to speak for themselves, and are never 
 at the least pains to attract the reader's notice 
 to any appearance of congruity that may exist be- 
 tween them, — and that, too, although the congruity in 
 many cases is so far from lying obviously upon the 
 surface, that it needs for its ascertainment and exhi- 
 bition a process of careful and minute comparison, in 
 which few readers will take the trouble to engage. In 
 these circumstances, how can we fail to recognise, in 
 the uniform consistency of the various characters 
 alluded to by the writers of the New Testament — 
 exhibited as it is, not by formal and studied descrip- 
 tion, but by artless and incidental narration of facts, — 
 a convincing proof of the truthfulness and reality of 
 those histories, on which we must lay the foundations 
 of our faith and hope ? 
 
 II. But, further, the recorded Unbelief of this disciple 
 gives us the most satisfactory proof of the candour 
 and honesty of the narrative in which it is related. 
 
 It is a circumstance which any unscrupulous writer, 
 who was anxious to present his story to the world in 
 a shape the least liable to excite objections, would 
 have been careful to suppress. For such a one could 
 not fail to see in it a plausible ground of cavil against 
 the Christian cause, of which its opponents would 
 most eagerly avail themselves. The evidence to 
 which Thomas refused to yield was the very same in 
 kind, as that on which all those to whom the Gospel 
 
 L 
 
1 62 TJie Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 was afterwards preached were required to believe in 
 the fact of the Saviour's Resurrection. But still, as 
 we are ingenuously told, he was not convinced. Is 
 it not clear that his Unbelief, in such circumstances, 
 might have been urged by those whom the Apostles 
 and Evangelists addressed as an apology for a simi- 
 lar unbelief ? Might they not, when told, for instance, 
 by St John, " that the Lord was risen indeed," have 
 somewhat perplexed him, by referring to the very 
 incident which he has here narrated, and have plau- 
 sibly urged the example of a brother Apostle as a 
 ground for distrusting any evidence, however strong, 
 which fell short of the actual confirmation of their 
 own senses ? Such being plainly the case, we have 
 in this incident a striking proof of the candour of 
 the Sacred Historian. It shows that he has writ- 
 ten his narrative, not with the circumspection and 
 reserve which are always characteristic of deception, 
 but with the communicative frankness of an upright 
 mind, confident that its statements are true, and fear- 
 less of any consequences that may flow from them. 
 
 In this respect, our text is quite in harmony with 
 many like instances of openness and candour which 
 we meet with in the New Testament. For nothing 
 is more remarkable in the Sacred Writers than the 
 ingenuous manner in which the whole truth, in all 
 its material circumstances, has been told by them, 
 whatever oppositions it might provoke, and whatever 
 objections or cavils it might originate. It never 
 seems to have entered into their minds to consider 
 in what light this or that action would probably appear 
 to the judgment of a captious reader. The denial of 
 Peter, the treachery of Judas, the unbelief of Thomas, 
 the dispute of Paul and Barnabas, — these, and the like 
 
Christ removes the Unbelief. 163 
 
 facts, they lay before us as they occurred, without any 
 attempt to qualify or explain them away. There Is 
 no air of caution or reserve about their narrative,— 
 there Is no studied suppression or anxious vindication 
 of such things as might be likely to convey an unfa- 
 vourable Impression of their character and conduct, — 
 there are no rem.arks purposely Inserted with a view 
 to anticipate probable objections, — there Is no attempt 
 to reconcile the judgment of the reader to what might 
 appear extraordinary In their testimony, — there Is 
 nothing. In short, of that artifice and accommodation 
 which would, In one shape or other, have been dis- 
 played by men who were Inwardly conscious of writ- 
 ing to deceive. Every page of their writings, on the 
 contrary. Is marked by the most Ingenuous frankness 
 and the most unpretending simplicity, such as betoken 
 their full and sincere conviction of the all-Important 
 truths which they proclaimed. 
 
 III. There is one other light, however, in which this 
 portion of the Sacred History may be viewed, in which 
 it is very eminently conducive to the confirmation 
 and establishment of the Christian faith. It may. In 
 connection with other passages of a like description, 
 be held as hHtimphaiitly vindicating the character of 
 those by whom the Resurrection of fesus has been 
 attested, from the slightest suspicion of credulity or 
 enthtisiasm. 
 
 There are only two suppositions, on one or other 
 of which the reality of this great miracle can be 
 controverted, — namely, either that the professed wit- 
 nesses of it were wilful deceivers, or that they were 
 themselves the victims of a gross debtsion. To these 
 alternatives the negative issue must be reduced ; and 
 
164 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 I can do nothing better than follow, in the main, 
 Paley's clear and conclusive reasoning upon them. 
 
 As to the former of these suppositions, we have 
 most satisfactory reasons for rejecting it. It is, for 
 example, altogether at variance with the frank, simple, 
 and ingenuous manner in which the testimony of the 
 witnesses has been borne, — with the high moral 
 excellence of the religion which they promulgated, 
 and in support of which the miracle was appealed to, 
 — with the circumstances under which their evi- 
 dence was given, at the time, in the place, and 
 before the persons that were most likely, had it 
 been false, to insure its detection, — and, most of all, 
 with the ordeal they were subjected to, of " labours, 
 dangers, and sufferings " in the Christian cause, such as 
 no company of deceivers would have encountered 
 for the sake of a scheme which they knew to be false, 
 and from which no worldly benefits could accrue to 
 them. 
 
 When, again, we turn to the latter supposition, we 
 find it, to say the least, equally untenable. It is not 
 to be thought, that the witnesses were themselves 
 deceived in regard to a fact of which they were 
 quite competent to judge, and with respect to which 
 they received, on many occasions, the clear and in- 
 dubitable evidence of their own senses. " We can- 
 not but speak," they solemnly affirm, " the things 
 which we have seen and heard." They had seen 
 Jesus, whose person they were well able to iden- 
 tify, on divers occasions subsequent to His death 
 and burial. They had not only seen Him, but 
 had touched Him, and conversed with Him, and 
 sat at table with Him, while He shared in their 
 repast. Ten times at least did He show Himself to 
 
Clirist removes the Unbelief. 165 
 
 His more intimate friends, and once to five hundred 
 brethren at the same time. In such circumstances as 
 these, deception was impossible. A few weak enthusi- 
 asts might, perhaps, on one or two occasions have been 
 momentarily deluded ; but it is not to be seriously- 
 maintained that so great a number of persons could, 
 in so many instances, have been mistaken regarding 
 a matter of fact which came under their own observa- 
 tion, and that for their whole after-lifetime they could 
 have laboured unwaveringly under the same extrava- 
 gant delusion, in spite of all the sufferings and trials 
 which it brought upon them. 
 
 And this supposition is all the more incredible, 
 when we take into account such instances of extreme 
 hesitancy and culpable backwardness in yielding to 
 the force of the evidence establishing the fact, as that 
 which is brought before us in the context. For we 
 thence see that the persons who have borne witness 
 to the Resurrection of Jesus were very far from being 
 of that weak and credulous spirit which would make 
 them the easy victims of deception. So far were they 
 from being readily persuaded, that they were, on the 
 contrary, " slow of heart to believe," even when clear 
 and sound evidence was presented to them. When 
 the women returned from the sepulchre, and told 
 " unto the eleven, and to all the rest," what had be- 
 fallen them, they regarded it as an " idle tale," to 
 which no manner of credit need be given. When the 
 two disciples who had met Jesus on the road to Em- 
 maus reported the particulars of their interview with 
 Him to their associates, " neither," we are told, " be- 
 lieved they them." When Jesus Himself appeared 
 to ten of the Apostles, they " believed not," until He 
 thoroughly convinced them, by showing them the 
 
1 66 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 marks of His wounds, and by eating in their presence. 
 Yet here we are told how one of their number, who 
 had not been present at this interview, was still in- 
 credulous ; Thomas declared that no testimony would 
 ever convince him but that of his own senses, — nay, 
 that he would not even trust his own eyes for the 
 truth of so astonishing a miracle, but must be allowed 
 to confirm their intimations by putting his finger into 
 the very prints which had been made by the nails 
 and by the spear in his Master's wounded body. In 
 the course of a few days the desired proof was offered. 
 The unbelieving Apostle was thoroughly convinced ; 
 and after a few more days had elapsed, he stood 
 forth publicly, along with the other Apostles, as a 
 witness of that glorious fact which he had before dis- 
 puted, and was ready to lay down his life in confirma- 
 tion of it. In his case, truly, it cannot be alleged that 
 aught of enthusiasm or credulity can be detected. 
 There was no probability that he would be induced, 
 either by the representations of other men, or by the 
 misguided fancies of his own mind, to give easy assent 
 to the allegation of any miraculous occurrence without 
 the most satisfying evidence and the fullest inquiry. 
 His testimony to the Saviour's Resurrection was ex- 
 torted from him by proofs which only wilful unbelief 
 could withstand. And there is no way in which 
 we can account for it (assuming, as we needs must 
 do, his sincerity) except by concluding that the facts 
 really were such as he was ultimately brought to 
 acknowledge, notwithstanding all the pertinacity with 
 which he had opposed them. And thus has the un- 
 belief of Thomas, however dishonouring it was in 
 itself to his Divine Master and his fellow-disciples. 
 
Christ removes the Unbelief. iG^] 
 
 been overruled for the advancement of the Christian 
 cause. It gives us the fullest assurance we could 
 wish that he and the other Apostles who had exhib- 
 ited a similar incredulity at first, although they were 
 much less obstinate in adhering to it, were not only 
 men of probity and truth, but men of a cautious, 
 sober, and inquiring spirit, and therefore certain not 
 to adopt a persuasion like that of their Master's 
 Resurrection from the dead on any but the most 
 satisfactory grounds. 
 
 I have thus endeavoured to show the importance of 
 the narrative which records the unbelief of Thomas — 
 as illustrating by a remarkable example the consistency 
 pervading all the Scriptural characters, — as evidencing 
 the candour and integrity of the writers of the Gospels, 
 and as vindicating the witnesses to the Resurrection 
 of Christ from any suspicion of enthusiasm or cre- 
 dulity. These are so many marks or criteria of an 
 internal kind which confirm the truth of the sacred 
 narrative from itself, and consequently establish the 
 reality of the miracle of our Lord's Resurrection, which 
 it attests. Without prosecuting this general line of 
 argument further, let me now draw your attention 
 more particularly to the important facts and the 
 practical lessons contained in the 27th and 28th 
 verses, which I have read from the narrative, as the 
 special points for our present consideration. 
 
 I. And, in the first place, we have here recorded 
 the means so graciously taken by our Lord for re- 
 moving the Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 On the former occasion, when Jesus appeared to 
 His assembled friends on the day of His Resur- 
 rection, Thomas was not present. And when his 
 
1 68 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 brethren eagerly imparted to him the joyful tidings 
 that they had seen their risen Master, instead of 
 receiving the intelligence with delight, he met it with 
 the most obstinate incredulity. Nothing they could 
 tell him of all that they had seen and heard seems to 
 have produced the smallest effect upon his mind. 
 He peremptorily declared that the evidence of his 
 own senses — nay, even of touch, the most realistic 
 and objective of all the senses — would alone convince 
 him of the fact which they alleged : " Except I shall 
 see in His hands," he said, " the print of the nails, 
 and put my finger into the print of the nails, and 
 thrust my hand into His side, I will not believe." 
 Little did Thomas imagine, when he thus spake, that 
 Jesus Himself was fully cognisant of his presump- 
 tion. But so indeed He was; and, ere long, He 
 found in His great goodness a fit opportunity to 
 reprove him for it. 
 
 Eight days later the disciples are again assembled, 
 and Thomas is with them ; for though he did not 
 believe the testimony they had borne to his Master's 
 Resurrection, he loved them, and clung to them, and 
 by mixing in their society, put himself in the way of 
 such manifestations of light, and grace, and comfort, 
 as might be there enjoyed. The Lord is again 
 pleased to honour His own Day by showing Himself 
 to the congregation of His followers. Again, on the 
 first day of the week, does He come to them, and 
 after repeating His former salutation — " Peace be 
 unto you," He at once addresses to Thomas words 
 evincing that He was well acquainted with his Un- 
 belief, and offers to remove his doubts, by the very 
 evidence which, in his former rashness and presump- 
 
Christ removes the Unbelief. 169 
 
 tion, he had required. " Reach hither thy finger," He 
 said, " and behold my hands ; and reach hither thy 
 hand, and thrust it into my side : and be not faithless, 
 but believing." 
 
 You see here the wonderful knowledge of the 
 Saviour. He thus proves Himself to be no less than 
 that Divine Being to whom all hearts are open, and 
 from whom no secrets are hid. Little, perhaps, did His 
 disciple imagine that Jesus had heard his expressions 
 of incredulity. But here he is apprised that his state 
 of mind was fully known, and that every word he had 
 uttered was discovered to that great Lord with whom 
 he had to do. Let 2ls, also, remember that He is cog- 
 nisant of our conduct. Not an idle word can we 
 speak, but He hears it. Not an action can we do, 
 but He observes it. Yea, not a thought can we 
 cherish, but He knows it. He compasseth our path 
 and our lying down, and is acquainted with all our 
 ways. 
 
 But if the knowledge of the Saviour was thus won- 
 derful, no less so were His kindjiess and condescension. 
 Justly might He have left this unbelieving man to 
 reap the bitter fruits of his obstinacy and presumption. 
 But instead of abandoning him, He pities and restores 
 him. He goes after the lost sheep, and with unspeak- 
 able tenderness and love brinofs him back into the 
 fold. He even condescends to meet him on his own 
 ground, — offers to comply with his wayward and 
 capricious humour, — grants the unreasonable demand 
 which he had made, — and deigns to remove his mor- 
 bid incredulity, by submitting His own wounded body 
 to be touched by him. There was, indeed, a special 
 reason for this gracious conduct of the Saviour in the 
 
1 70 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 present instance ; for it was a matter of unspeakable 
 importance that the glorious miracle of His Resurrec- 
 tion from the dead, on which the faith and hope of 
 Christians are mainly dependent, should be estab- 
 lished by evidence so conclusive as to leave no rea- 
 sonable ground for controverting it. But His good- 
 ness on this occasion is not without a parallel. His 
 people, in all ages, can testify from their experience 
 that they have often met with the like kindness at His 
 hands. He has ever pitied their errors, and helped 
 their infirmities, and removed their doubts, and re- 
 claimed them from their wanderings. Sometimes by 
 the teaching of His Word, — and sometimes by the 
 dispensations of His providence, — and sometimes in 
 the observance of His ordinances, — has He made 
 Himself known to them, by tokens which they could 
 not mistake — made them ashamed of their folly in 
 distrusting Him, and filled them with "all joy and 
 peace in believing." 
 
 2. The next particular in these verses to be con- 
 sidered is the full persuasion to which the unbelieving 
 disciple was at length brought, of that truth which he 
 had once questioned. 
 
 It does not appear that Thomas thought it neces- 
 sary to satisfy himself in the manner he had himself 
 proposed. We are not told that he availed himself 
 of the liberty which the Saviour gave him to touch 
 His pierced hands and wounded side. The look, 
 the tone, the words of His Divine Master, — the 
 knowledge He showed of his presumptuous de- 
 mand, — were more than enough to banish all his 
 doubts. Conviction flashed upon him. The evidence 
 was irresistible. He seems to have felt ashamed 
 
Christ removes the Unbelief. 171 
 
 and grieved for his former perverseness. With the 
 fullest confidence, and the profoundest reverence, he 
 answered and said, " My Lord and my God." 
 
 In using these words, he not only expresses his 
 recognition of the Saviour's Person, and of the reality 
 of the Resurrection, but makes an unqualified acknow- 
 ledgment of His Divinity. He calls Him not only 
 his " Lord," but his " God ;" and Jesus accepts of the 
 homage and approves of it, which He would not have 
 done if He had not been entitled to it. Some, indeed, 
 have tried to escape from this conclusion, by repre- 
 senting the words of the Apostle, not as a confession, 
 but as an exclamation, — a sudden outburst of astonish- 
 ment and surprise. This is a light, however, in which 
 they cannot at all be regarded. Viewed in this light, 
 they would have involved profanation of the holy 
 name of God, which Christ would not have allowed 
 to pass without stern reproof and rebuke. Besides, 
 we are expressly told, that Thomas addressed these 
 words to the Saviour. He did not merely exclaiTUr 
 abotit Hiin, but spake to Him. "He answered and 
 said tmto Him, My Lord and my God " — distinctly 
 marking and owning Him as the person to whom 
 these adorable titles appertained. And Jesus, in the 
 verse following, was pleased to recognise his words, 
 not as a mere expression of surprise, but as a formal 
 declaration of his faith ; and this is our warrant for 
 accepting them in their deepest meaning. 
 
 Further, it is to be observed, that these words of the 
 Apostle are expressive of a personal interest in the 
 risen Saviour. They not only declare the fulness of 
 his conviction that the person who stood before him 
 was Jesus, the Son of God, who had risen from the 
 
172 The Unbelief fo Thomas. 
 
 grave ; but they claim and appropriate this Divine 
 Person as his own. " My Lord and viy God " are 
 the terms of his acknowledgment ; evidently imply- 
 ing the confidence, and joy, and lively affection, with 
 which he was now regarding Him. He might per- 
 haps have feared that his temporar^^ Unbelief had 
 separated him from the grace of his Redeemer. But 
 now, with Jesus visibly disclosed to him, mercifully 
 offering to scatter all his doubts, and kindly inviting 
 a renewal of his faith, he ventures, unworthy as he 
 feels himself to be, to look up to this adorable and 
 gracious Being as One who will still acknowledge and 
 befriend him. Again does he know Him in whom he 
 has believed. Ag^ain does he cleave to the Saviour 
 as his friend, and own Him as his Lord, and choose 
 Him as his portion. Such, too, must be 02ir faith, 
 Brethren, if we would profit by it. A mere specu- 
 lative belief in Jesus, even as declared to be the Son 
 of God, with power, by His Resurrection from the 
 dead, has no blessedness here or hereafter to impart 
 to us. But when we choose Him as our Lord and 
 our God, He graciously becomes ojcrs. W^ gives Him- 
 self to us, with all that He has, to satisfy our souls, 
 and fill us with His fulness. All His perfections are 
 engaged in our behalf. All the dispensations of His 
 providence are ordered for the promotion of our wel- 
 fare. His grace is ours to support us while w^e live, 
 and His precious promises to bless us when we die. 
 I need scarcely add, that these words of the Apostle 
 are still farther expressive of e7itire homage and de- 
 votedness. He not only claims an interest in the Savi- 
 our, but gives to that Saviotir an interest in himself. 
 By saying to Him " my Lord and my God," he fully 
 
Christ removes the Unbelief. 173 
 
 acknowledges the right which Jesus has to his unre- 
 served affection and obedience. And well, we may 
 believe, did his after-life verify this profession, and 
 that with no less zeal and devotedness than the other 
 Apostles, did he yield himself up to the service of 
 his heavenly Master, braving all manner of losses 
 and hardships, and dangers and persecutions, for the 
 furtherance of the Gospel ; and, ultimately, as we 
 are assured by tradition, laying down his life for 
 the sake of his risen Lord. A like profession 
 of obedience to the risen Saviour must be openly 
 made, and practically verified, by all who would be 
 partakers of His grace. We cannot sincerely and 
 intelligently address Him as "^?/r Lord and our God'* 
 without thereby fully acknowledging ourselves to be 
 ''His people!' If we are not His to honour and 
 to serve Him, we have no sufficient reason to con- 
 clude that " He is ours',' to bless us with His great 
 salvation. And he is no real Christian who will 
 not yield to the force of that exhortation of an 
 Apostle : " Ye are not your own, ye are bought with 
 a price : therefore glorify God with your body, and 
 with your spirit, which are God's." 
 
 Now, may the God of peace, " who brought again 
 from the dead our Lord Jesus," and, "according to 
 His abundant mercy, hath begotten us again unto a 
 lively hope," cause us more and more to " know Him 
 and the power of His Resurrection, and the fellow- 
 ship of His sufferings," that we may be "made con- 
 formable unto His death," and finally may "attain 
 unto the Resurrection of the dead," and to the " in- 
 heritance incorruptible and undefiled, and that fadeth 
 not away." 
 
174 
 
 X. 
 
 THE UNBELIEF OF THOMAS. 
 
 PART II. CHRIST JUDGES THE UNBELIEVER. 
 
 "Jesus saith unto him, Thomas, because thou hast seen me, thou hast be- 
 lieved : blessed are they that have not seen, and yet have believed." — 
 John, xx. 29. 
 
 Such was the notice taken by our Lord of the tardy 
 profession of faith made by the Apostle Thomas, 
 when no longer able to resist the direct proof given 
 him of that glorious miracle, which hitherto he had 
 disbelieved. I propose now, in continuation of my 
 former discourse, and as a conclusion to the discus- 
 sion of this important subject, to direct your attention 
 to this remarkable utterance of the risen Saviour ; 
 and to point out the great practical lessons touching 
 our relation to the faith which it conveys. In doing 
 so, I shall advert, in the first place, to the rebuke 
 here administered to the Apostle for the slow and 
 reluctant conviction that had been extorted from him ; 
 and, secondly, I shall endeavour to explain the gracious 
 benediction so clearly pronounced on those who dis- 
 play, in reference to Divine truths, that teachable and 
 candid spirit in which this disciple had been found 
 defective. 
 
Christ judges the Unbeliever. 175 
 
 I. There is conveyed in these words a rebuke of 
 the Apostle for his Unbelief The rebuke, indeed, is 
 rather implied than broadly expressed. It is marked 
 by all the characteristic gentleness of Him who seeks 
 not to " break the bruised reed." But still it cannot 
 escape the notice of the discerning reader. Nor can 
 we doubt that it was very acutely felt — all the more 
 so, perhaps, from its very mildness — by the individual 
 to whom it was addressed. 
 
 There is a very remarkable contrast between the 
 warmth and cordiality of the Apostle's homage, and 
 the calmness — almost coldness — with which the 
 Saviour accepts of it. I am not aware that there 
 is any fuller and more unqualified declaration of faith 
 in Christ, to be anywhere met with, than that which 
 Thomas made, when, acknowledging not only His 
 Resurrection but His supreme Divinity, he " answered 
 and said unto Him, My Lord and my God." His 
 words, as I have formerly shown, are not by any 
 means to be understood as a mere exclamation of 
 wonder and surprise, but as a formal profession of his 
 faith. And yet how coldly is this profession received ! 
 Compare our Saviour's language in regard to it with 
 what he said in a like instance to another Apostle. 
 When Simon Peter, on being asked by Him, " Whom 
 say ye that I am ? " replied, " Thou art the Christ, 
 the Son of the living God," he met at once with this 
 glorious commendation — " Blessed art thou, Simon 
 Bar-jona : for flesh and blood have not revealed it 
 unto thee, but my Father, which is in heaven." How 
 different was the reception which Thomas met with ! 
 His declaration of faith in the Son of God, though no 
 less full, decided, and reverential, had come too late. 
 
176 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 and had been yielded too reluctantly, to meet 
 with that unqualified approbation with which the 
 Saviour might else have been disposed to hail it. 
 It had been all but extorted from him by evidence 
 which he could not withstand. It did not betoken 
 that candid and teachable spirit, that fairness of in- 
 quiry, and that openness to conviction, which the 
 Lord delights to mark in those who are relying on 
 Him ; and, therefore, it was barely accepted of, and 
 nothing more. Not a word was said in commenda- 
 tion of it. Nay, rather by the blessedness ascribed 
 to faith, which has less palpable evidence to compel 
 it, it is virtually set down as in comparison of small 
 account. "Because thou hast seen me," saith the 
 Lord Jesus, " thou hast believed." "As long as there 
 was a possibility of turning a deaf ear to proofs which, 
 if fairly examined, would scarcely have failed to pro- 
 duce conviction, thou hast resisted ; but now that 
 there is no such possibility left to thee, thou hast 
 at length acknowledged thyself to be convinced." 
 Faith thus extorted is not of such a kind as to call 
 for any special benediction ; " Blessed are they that 
 have not seen, and yet have believed." 
 
 Let us beware, however, that we do not altogether 
 misconceive the meaning of our Saviour in admin- 
 istering this reproof. We must not suppose that 
 Thomas is here censured for having withheld the ac- 
 knowledgment of his belief, until a sufficient amount 
 of evidence was presented to him ; and that he would, 
 on the contrary, have been commended had he shown 
 a disposition to credit the alleged fact, however in- 
 adequate the evidence on which it rested. Such a 
 supposition would be no less at variance with the 
 
Christ judges the Unbeliever. 177 
 
 doctrine of Scripture, than with the dictates of right 
 reason. A readiness to believe marvels on slight 
 inquiry, or on slender grounds, is justly esteemed a 
 sure mark of a weak intellect. And we freely grant 
 that it would be quite " unreasonable to think that 
 any man can earn the Divine blessing by his imbe- 
 cility, or incur the Divine censure by his discretion." 
 The Scriptures are very far from countenancing such 
 a notion. It is written '* that the simple believeth 
 every word ; but the prudent man looketh well to his 
 going." And exhortations like the following are of 
 frequent occurrence : — " Prove all things : hold fast 
 that which is good ; " " I speak as unto wise men ; 
 judge ye what I say ; " " Let every man be fully 
 persuaded in his own mind ; " '' Believe not every 
 spirit ; but try the spirits whether they be of God ; " 
 " Be ready always to give an answer to every one 
 that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you." 
 Nor is there anything inconsistent with these and 
 the like Scriptural admonitions in the case before 
 us. Thomas is here blamed, not for having with- 
 held his belief until reasonable grotmds for yielding 
 it were placed before him, but for having obstinately 
 persisted in his ificredulity, notwithstanding all the 
 clear evidence he had already obtained — such evidence 
 being well fitted to satisfy an impartial inquirer 
 — and for having most rashly and unwarrantably 
 formed to himself a resolution of Unbelief whatever 
 amount of proof might be afforded him, unless it 
 should chance to be of that particular kind which 
 he, in his perverse and presumptuous humour, had 
 thought fit to dictate. That this is the right view of 
 the case to be taken by us, no one who considers all 
 
 M 
 
1 78 TJie Unbelief of TJwnias. 
 
 the circumstances can entertain a doubt. This faith- 
 less disciple had shown a determined resistance to 
 proofs which ought to have won the full assent of any 
 impartial mind that would give them due attention — ■ 
 indeed, to substantially the same proofs that have 
 been given as the groundwork of Christian faith in 
 all succeeding ages. And, if in doing so he were not 
 altogether without excuse, most certain it is that no 
 unbeliever in after-times would justly be condemneu. 
 The Resurrection of Christ, when declared to him as 
 a fact, ought not to have seemed a thing incredible or 
 improbable in itself It was, on the contrary, nothing 
 more than w^hat all the disciples of Christ might 
 reasonably have expected. 
 
 The character of the Saviour, the doctrine He had 
 preached, and the miracles He had wrought, might 
 naturally have prepared them for it. For it was no 
 marvel that a Being who so evidently possessed a 
 wisdom, and a power, and a goodness, that were more 
 than human, — whose miraculous birth had been cele- 
 brated by descending angels — whose Divine origin, as 
 the well-beloved Son of God, had been repeatedly 
 proclaimed by an audible voice from heaven — who 
 had spoken as man never spake, revealing doctrines 
 the most excellent and sublime, precepts the most 
 pure, and promises the most precious — who had on 
 many occasions shown himself to be possessed of an 
 uncontrolled dominion over the universe, healing by 
 a w^ord the most inveterate diseases, rebuking the 
 winds, and walking on the waves, casting out devils, 
 and restoring the dead to life, — no marvel was it 
 that this superhuman Being should have shaken off 
 the chains of death, as one who could not possibly 
 be holden by them. 
 
Christ judges the Unbeliever. 179 
 
 The prophecies, again, which He had uttered con- 
 cerning His Resurrection, appeahng to it as the great 
 decisive test by which His claims as a Divine teacher 
 were to be tried, ought to have still further prepared 
 the minds of all who had hitherto adhered to Him, 
 for the actual occurrence of it. Often had He fore- 
 warned them of His approaching death ; and, when 
 He did so, He usually assured them that on the third 
 day He would rise again from the tomb. So well 
 known, indeed, were these predictions, even to the 
 very enemies of the Christian cause, that they took 
 every precaution that could be thought of, to pre- 
 vent their fulfilment. And, though it is possible 
 that Thomas may have forgotten them, yet he could 
 hardly fail to be reminded of them by the other 
 disciples, to whose memories they had been pre- 
 viously recalled by no other than the reanimated 
 Jesus himself. 
 
 The fact alleged to him ought, on these grounds, 
 to have been not only a credible thing, in itself con- 
 sidered, but even invested with a high degree of prob- 
 ability. And, then, how full was the evidence attest- 
 ing it ! It was reported to him by a number of his 
 fellow - disciples, whose probity he well knew from 
 long and constant intercourse ; whose means of 
 correct judgment, from the testimony of their own 
 senses, combined with their thorough acquaintance 
 with the Saviour's person, were such as he could not 
 reasonably dispute ; and, it may be added, whose 
 unwillingness to be convinced had been only less 
 obstinate than his own. Such evidence, certainly, 
 was as complete as any reasonable man in his 
 circumstances could have looked for. But, still, 
 his Unbelief was too obstinate to be shaken by it. 
 
i8o T lie Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 Clear, and full, and consistent as it was, it made no 
 sensible impression upon his mind. Indeed, he does 
 not seem to have griven heed to it at all. For his 
 doubts were not rested on any supposed defect which 
 he was able to point out in the evidence submitted to 
 him, but on the rash and presumptuous demand that 
 aiiother kind of evidence should be giveit to supplement 
 it. Whether it was that he stood upon his imagined 
 right to have the same palpable demonstration given 
 him which had been already afforded to his brethren, 
 or that his doubts and prejudices were so strong, that 
 nothing short of this was adequate to remove them ; 
 certain it is, that instead of patiently examining and 
 carefully weighing the proof that was laid before him, 
 he set it aside, and declared that he would not believe 
 until he was convinced by the testimony of his own 
 senses. Nothing could be more unreasonable than 
 such a condition. The circumstance that he himself 
 had not seen the Lord, was no proper objection to 
 the evidence of his fellow-disciples. It wotUd have 
 bee7t so if he had been present on the occasion in ques- 
 tion, and had satisfied himself by actual observation, 
 that the Saviour did not on that occasion manifest 
 Himself. But, as he had not been present , his want 
 of ocular proof could not in the least discredit the 
 statements of those who avouched it from their own 
 experience. It is true, that if Christ had been actu- 
 ally beheld by him, his grounds of conviction would 
 have been stronger than they were. But this con- 
 sideration was no manner of excuse for rejecting 
 grounds which, in themselves, were unexceptionable. 
 A man is always entitled to say that he will not be- 
 lieve without sufficient proof But no man is entitled 
 
Christ judges the Unbeliever. i8i 
 
 to stipulate for any particular kind of proof vjhich. he 
 may prefer ; and because it is not given, to refuse at- 
 tention to any other, no matter how clear, and full, 
 and free from reasonable objection it may be, in the 
 judgment of all who may impartially examine it. 
 Indeed, there is no fact, however strongly attested, 
 which might not in this way come to be discredited. 
 Let ten men declare it to us, we might object that 
 there are not twenty. Let twenty confirm it, we 
 might still object that there are not a hundred. And 
 as to the most authentic occurrences of past history, 
 and the most undeniable peculiarities of foreign coun- 
 tries, there is not one of them which we might not, on 
 the same principle, refuse to believe, merely because 
 we have not seen them. The conduct of the Apostle, 
 then, was altogether without excuse. The Resurrec- 
 tion of Jesus was declared to him, on testimony which 
 he could not and did not even attempt to refute ; 
 but still he protested that he would not be persuaded 
 of it, until he had such other evidence as he chose 
 to prescribe. The rebuke, accordingly, which the 
 Saviour administered to him, pronounces no commen- 
 dation on credulity, and reflects no censure on rea- 
 sonable and fair inquiry. That which it commends, 
 is openness to conviction when evidence that cannot 
 be gainsaid is afforded us. And that which it re- 
 proves is the rejection of such evidence, from no real 
 defect that we are able to discover in it, but simply 
 because some other proof, which we either, think 
 stronger, or like better, has not been given. 
 
 In this view, the text conveys a most important 
 lesson to all who appear to be like-minded with the 
 
1 82 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 Apostle, as too many, alas ! in all ages, have been 
 found to be, — sinning, not as he did, on one occa- 
 sion, but in the habit of their lives, " after the same 
 example of unbelief" 
 
 It is no uncommon thing for unbelievers to object 
 that they have not ocular and personal proof of 
 the miracles of the Gospel, without ever reflecting 
 that the Christian dispensation could not, from its 
 very nature, have been confirmed to us in such a 
 manner. It would be grossly unreasonable to expect 
 that the Son of God should be crucified and revived 
 in every age, and in every country, in order that all 
 who are summoned to l^elieve on Him may have 
 direct proof as the groundwork of their faith. And if 
 so, then — whether Britain or Judsea, whether the nine- 
 teenth century or the first, were chosen as the scene 
 and period of His manifestation, — it is plain, that 
 those who live in other countries, and in succeeding 
 ages, would have to believe the facts and the miracles 
 accompanying them on precisely the same kind of 
 evidence which confirms them to us now, that is, on 
 indirect or mediate testimony. To demand im- 
 mediate proof for our conviction, were manifestly 
 quite unreasonable and inconsiderate, the nature 
 of the case being such as to preclude it. It may, 
 indeed, be said, that miracles of a like description 
 with those of the Saviour might be still performed by 
 other persons^ in order to strengthen our confidence in 
 the Christian faith. But if they were, they would 
 cease to be miracles. They would become, in all ages 
 and in all countries, matter of familiar and everyday 
 occurrence, and would thus be deprived of all the 
 force which they possess, as exceptional signs and ere- 
 
Christ judges the Unbeliever. 183 
 
 dentials of Divine authority. But are we not war- 
 ranted, when miracles are reported to us, to urge 
 their opposition to the known constancy of the course 
 of nature as an insurmountable bar in the way of our 
 believing them ? No, Brethren. Such a plea were 
 altogether inadmissible, at least In the only case in 
 which we are concerned to repel it ; that is to say, in 
 the case of such miracles as God is alleged to have 
 wrought in confirmation of a revealed religio7i. To 
 prejudge them in such a case, because they are 
 opposed to our ordinary experience of the course of 
 nature, would be trying them by a test which cannot 
 fairly be applied to them. They do not profess to be 
 the results of any natural power, but to be the super- 
 natural operations of the power of God. And if, 
 therefore, before inquiring into the evidence of them, 
 a question be proposed as to how far they are events 
 likely or unlikely to have really take^i place, that 
 question must be determined, not by considering 
 whether they are such effects as usually result from 
 any known cause of ordinary operation, but by con- 
 sidering this very different point, whether the revela- 
 tion, in support of which they are adduced, be such as 
 to make it a credible or an incredible thing, that God 
 should interpose His Divine power in an extraordi- 
 nary manner to confirm it. If ten men come to me, 
 and tell me that they have seen a person rising from 
 the dead, or walking upon the sea, without apprising 
 me of any ostensible purpose for which God has 
 interposed to enable him to do so, I am entitled 
 to plead against their testimony, that such an occur- 
 rence is so contrary to common experience as to make 
 it in a very high degree improbable. But if the same 
 
1 84 Tlie Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 men, while telling me of the miracle, inform me at 
 the same time that it was operated by the power of 
 God with the view of aiUhenticating a great system 
 of revealed ti^uth ; then, if I am to plead against 
 them, it must be on another ground, — it must be on 
 the ground that the revelation which they allege bears 
 upon its face such clear and palpable marks of being 
 unworthy of the character of God to give, or unneces- 
 sary and unimportant in the circumstances of man to 
 receive, — that no interference of Divine power to 
 authorise it can, with any degree of probability, be 
 looked for. And if I am not prepared to meet them 
 on this ground, I am bound, with all fairness, to try 
 and weigh their testimony ; and on finding it trust- 
 worthy, to make no deduction from it in consequence 
 of the alleged fact being foreign to the course of 
 nature. For the circumstances, indeed, of a well- 
 attested miracle, wrought in support of a revelation 
 that is worthy of God, being evidently opposed to our 
 everyday experience, instead of being an insuperable 
 objection to it, is in one respect at least, an argument 
 in its favour. For if God is to work a miracle at all, 
 we may reasonably expect that it will be so decided a 
 miracle, — so clearly and unequivocally opposed to all 
 the observed effects of natural power, — as to place its 
 miraculous character altogether beyond dispute, and 
 to force every witness of it to acknowledge with Nico- 
 demus, that no man could do it, " except God were 
 with him." 
 
 But, still, the Unbeliever may fall back on the posi- 
 tion, that stronger evidence might have been afforded oi 
 the miracles of Christ than has actually been given. 
 
Christ judges the Unbeliever. 185 
 
 so as at once to urge them on the attention, and to 
 force them on the convictions, of all to whom they 
 are proposed. It is not necessary to deny this asser- 
 tion in order to repel the implied inference that is 
 drawn from it. For it does not at all follow, that an 
 evidence is defective because it is not irresistible and 
 demonstrative. Even in regfard to the existence and 
 attributes of God, those fundamental truths of natural 
 religion, which the very rejecters of Christianity are, 
 with a few rare exceptions, wont to admit, — the proofs 
 given might have been stronger than we find them to 
 be. For God has not been pleased, with a view to 
 cure the morbid blindness of the atheist, to make so 
 palpable a manifestation of Himself as would over- 
 power the faculties of the intellect, and leave no room 
 for inquiry and reflection. Although the invisible 
 things of His eternal power and Godhead be clearly 
 enough seen from the things which He hath made, 
 they are seen only by those who are willing to inves- 
 tigate them ; and a possibility is left for the careless 
 to overlook them, or for the uncandid and perverse 
 to dispute against them. The want of stronger evi- 
 dence, however, in this case, is not regarded, even by 
 those who disbelieve the Gospel, as any good ground 
 for rejecting that which is given. They readily 
 acknowledge that the proofs of the Divine existence, 
 though not such as absolutely to preclude inquiry or 
 to force conviction, are perfectly sufficient to assure 
 them of the glorious truth. Why, then, I ask, should 
 they act on a different principle, when they come to 
 investigate the claims of Christianity ? The great 
 question in this case, also, is not whether the evi- 
 dence afforded be the strongest that could by possi- 
 
1 86 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 billty be supposed, but whether it be strong enough 
 to satisfy a candid mind, wilHng to examine, and open 
 to receive the truth ? Look, then, to the evidence, as 
 it is. Refute it, if you can, on its own merits. Prove 
 to me that Christianity is a system unworthy of the 
 character of God, and unnecessary or unimportant in 
 the circumstances of fallen man. Prove to me that 
 Jesus, who inculcated in His precepts, and exemplified 
 in His whole conduct the most exalted morality, was 
 yet the most daring and presumptuous of all deceiv- 
 ers, — and that, too, for no inducement of a personal 
 nature that can be thought of, — for nothing, indeed, 
 unless it were to cheat the world into piety, honesty, 
 purity, and benevolence. Prove to me that it was a 
 likely thing that a few illiterate and simple-minded 
 Jews should, by their own wisdom, have devised and 
 published a system of religion which puts to shame 
 the collective attainments of the wisest and best of un- 
 inspired men in every age, or that by their own efforts, 
 in feeble opposition to the combined power and influ- 
 ence of all who were in league against them, they 
 could in a few years have succeeded in diffusing it 
 over the wide extent of the ancient world. Prove to 
 me, in fine, that the witnesses of Christ's miracles, 
 and the professed workers, too, of like miracles in His 
 name, could possibly have been deceived in reference 
 to matters of fact which fell under the frequent obser- 
 vation of their own senses ; or else that they wilfully 
 attempted to deceive others, for the sake of a cause by 
 which they could gain nothing of this world's goods, and 
 did, in fact, lose everything, — and in their adherence 
 to which they were subjected to losses the most serious, 
 and hardships the most severe, and mockery the most 
 
Christ judges the Unbeliever. 187 
 
 galling, and persecution the most implacable; and were 
 ultimately called to seal their testimony with their 
 blood. Prove to me all this, and then will you be entitled 
 to take your stand against the claims of Christianity, 
 on the fair and rational ground that its evidences are 
 insufficient. But if you confess yourselves unable so to 
 do, — if you are forced to acknowledge that the proofs 
 given are such as you cannot conclusively set aside, 
 — then you are not warranted to take refuge in the 
 vague and utterly irrelevant assertion, that, had God 
 so willed it, these proofs might have been yet stronger. 
 It were in such a case the most obstinate perversity 
 to make your mere preference for another kind of 
 proof a ground for rejecting proof which, in its own 
 nature, is unexceptionable. 
 
 II. Having noticed and applied the rebuke which 
 our Lord administers in the text to His unbeliev- 
 ing Apostle, let us now proceed to consider the gra- 
 cious benediction which He here pronounces on 
 those who display, in reference to Divine truths, that 
 teachable and candid spirit, in which Thomas had 
 been found deficient, — " Blessed^' He says, " are they 
 that have not seen, and yet have believed!' 
 
 And here, my Friends, I must again warn you 
 against a very gross perversion of our Lord's state- 
 ment. You must not suppose that He by any means 
 discountenances a full and searching inquiry into the 
 grounds of such religious truths as may at any time 
 be proposed to us, or that He justifies a blind credulity 
 in the reception of them, however slender may be 
 the evidence on which they rest. It is not " believing 
 without good evidence'' that He here approves of, but 
 
1 88 The Unbelief of TJiomas. 
 
 " believing on good evidence,' — such evidence as Thomas 
 had before the Saviour was personally manifested to 
 him, without that additional proof, calctilated to com- 
 pel belief which he had so unreasonably demanded. 
 Our Lord here blesses, not the credulous and unin- 
 quiring, but the humble and unprejudiced searcher 
 after truth, who is patient in investigating it, impartial 
 in weighing it, candid in acknowledging it, and cheer- 
 ful in receiving it. What He commends is, not a 
 disposition to give easy credence to any alleged fact 
 without first examining and considering well the 
 proofs of it, but a disposition to be satisfied with 
 such proofs as ought in the circumstances to suffice 
 for our conviction, instead of frowardly requiring 
 different or stronger proofs, such as the nature of the 
 case does not require or will not admit of, — a dispo- 
 sition, in other words, thankfully to avail ourselves of 
 that kind and measure of light which God is pleased 
 to give us, instead of peevishly shutting our eyes 
 against it, and refusing to be benefited by it, because 
 it is not greater. 
 
 This benediction extends backwards to those Old 
 Testament saints who lived before the day of Christ, 
 and who on the strength of the promises that were 
 made to them, believed in Him confidently as the 
 Saviour that was yet to come. It ^yX^ViAs forwards, 
 too, to Christians in future ages, who should, on the 
 testimony of the Apostles and Evangelists, believe 
 in the same Saviour long after his Ascension into 
 heaven. And even to Thomas himself, and his fel- 
 low-disciples, it justly belongs, with reference to many 
 of the chief articles of their faith. For though they 
 had ocular proof of the Resurrection, and of the other 
 
Christ judges the Unbeliever. 189 
 
 miracles of the Gospel, in order that they might be 
 qualified to attest these for the conviction of those to 
 whom their testimony might be addressed ; yet were 
 there many truths proposed to them besides these, — 
 such as the Father's acceptance of Christ's sacrifice 
 — the intercession of the Saviour in heaven — the 
 unperceived influence of the Holy Spirit upon the 
 human heart — the resurrection of all the dead on the 
 day of judgment — the condition of the righteous and 
 the wicked in a future state, — truths which they, as 
 well as all ordinary Christians, must have been con- 
 tent to believe, without receiving any sensible demon- 
 stration of them. 
 
 Now, in pronouncing this benediction, our Saviour 
 may be viewed, on the one hand, as stating a fact, and, 
 on the other hand, as expressing an opinion. 
 
 He maybe considered as stating the matter of fact, 
 that the blessings of His Gospel were only to be 
 obtained by such as should be disposed, on good 
 grounds, to credit Divine truths without palpable and 
 overpowering evidence. The disposition of Thomas, 
 prudent as he might think it, would prove fatal to the 
 great mass of mankind, who are necessarily debarred 
 from receiving that proof, which he had prescribed as 
 needful for his own conviction. All who should form 
 a resolution like his, not to believe without having 
 seen, must thenceforth perish unavoidably in their 
 unbelief. And even Thomas himself, had he acted on 
 the same principle in regard to the main truths and 
 promises of the Gospel, relating as these do to things 
 that are invisible, — must needs have been excluded 
 from all share in that blessedness which faith in these 
 great truths and promises can alone secure. // is the 
 
1 90 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 fact, m short, — no matter what opinion the perverse 
 disputers of this world may entertain regarding it, — 
 it is the fact, that true blessedness can be alone attain- 
 ed by those who are willing to receive Divine truths, 
 on such reasonable grounds as God is pleased to 
 assign for them, instead of rejecting them because 
 they are not forced in an irresistible manner on our 
 conviction. 
 
 But, on the other hand, our Lord may be here 
 regarded, not merely as stating the fact, that those 
 who believe in the truth of Christianity, without de- 
 manding ocular proof for their belief, are the only 
 persons on whom its blessings shall be conferred, 
 but as expressing an opinion ill favottr of their being so. 
 He calls them " blessed," as commending and appi^ov- 
 ing of them, and cordially acquiescing in the preference 
 that shall be given to them. And there can be no doubt 
 that in this, as in all things, the judgment which He 
 pronounces is according to the truth. Most justly 
 may it be said, that a reception of the Gospel on 
 such good grounds as cannot reasonably be objected 
 to, is more to be approved of than an obstinate demand 
 of irresistible proof in order to our conviction. It 
 indicates a better temper of mind In those who ex- 
 emplify it. It argues greater industry in searching 
 after truth, greater discretion and impartiality in 
 weighing it, and greater humility and ingenuousness 
 in embracing it ; and it more fully displays the power 
 of Divine grace in subduing prejudices, guarding 
 against errors, overcoming difficulties, casting down 
 imaginations, and bringing the soul into captivity to 
 the obedience of Christ. It is said, respecting the 
 Jews at Berea, that they " were more noble than those 
 
Christ judges the U^ibeliever. 191 
 
 of Thessalonica, in that they received the Word with 
 all readiness of mind, and searched the Scriptures 
 daily, whether those things were so." A like com- 
 mendation may be given to all candid inquirers, who, 
 instead of turning away from the Christian doctrine 
 because it does not at once force itself on their belief, 
 are willing to examine and ready to receive such 
 reasonable proofs as may be urged for its establish- 
 ment. Theirs is the true nobility of mind. It is 
 quite a mistake to suppose that a sceptical spirit is 
 any sure mark of superior enlightenment. As there 
 is a vulgar and ignoble credulity, there is also a vulgar 
 and ignoble incredulity. The truly great mind is 
 that which so loves truth, as neither to receive doc- 
 trines where the evidence is found defective, nor 
 sweepingly to reject them, from the mere want of 
 stronger proof, when that which has been given may 
 be found, on due inquiry, sufficient for the conviction 
 of any candid and reflecting man. 
 
 Let it not be thought, then, that there is anything 
 strange in the sentiment which our Saviour here ex- 
 presses. It is not only fully warranted by the reason of 
 the case itself; but it Is altogether in accordance with 
 our ordinary modes of thinking and of acting, with 
 reference to matters unconnected with Christianity. 
 Take, for example, the daily business of life. In the 
 greater part of it we are left, after a manner, to " walk 
 by faith and not by sight',' — relying on testimony, — 
 arguing from past experience, — balancing opposite 
 probabilities against each other. And were we to 
 insist upon ocular or demonstrative proof for any 
 important fact that is to influence us in our daily 
 conduct, we should often be obliged to sacrifice our 
 
192 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 wealth, or health, or comfort, to the obstinacy of our 
 unbelief. Take as another example the truths of 
 natural science. These are received by the great 
 mass of mankind, who have neither the time nor the 
 capacity to investigate them, on no higher ground 
 than faith in the testimony of those who have pa- 
 tiently laboured for their establishment. And this, 
 too, although they are, in some cases, quite as aston- 
 ishing, and as opposite to our expectations, as some 
 of the deep things disclosed to us in the Word of 
 God. This is very eminently the case with that 
 doctrine of Astronomy, which is now universally re- 
 ceived, regardi7ig the motion of the earth around the 
 sun. It seems to contradict the evidence of our 
 senses, which led men for ages, till the progress of 
 science corrected the error, to conclude that it was the 
 Sim that revolved around the earth. And had it been 
 held forth in revelation as an object of faith, instead 
 of being laid down in systems of human philosophy, 
 there would have been no end to the cavils and dis- 
 putes, with which a theory, apparently so opposed to 
 our natural perceptions, would on all sides have been 
 assailed. And yet it is now universally admitted. 
 And on what ground is it so ? Not on the ground of 
 those scientific demonstrations which have established 
 it. For as to these, there is not one man among ten 
 thousand who has leisure to examine them or learn- 
 ing to understand them ; — but just on the ground of 
 human testimony and authority. " Not having seen " 
 the alleged fact with our own eyes, or ascertained it 
 for our own personal satisfaction, we nevertheless be- 
 lieve it on the evidence of other men, whose ability 
 to judge of it, and veracity in declaring it, we think 
 
Christ judges the Unbeliever. 193 
 
 we have no sufficient reason to dispute. Another 
 instance, still more pertinent to the case before us, is 
 found in the great truths of natural religion. These, 
 as already remarked, have not been pressed upon us 
 with an evidence at once so obtrusive and so over- 
 whelming, as absolutely to preclude inquiry and to 
 compel belief. They are left to be collected by that 
 pious and patient exercise of the human understand- 
 ing, which traces the character and agency of God, 
 in the works of His hands, and in the ways of His 
 providence. And certain as they may be to the 
 diligent and candid inquirer, there is still a possibil- 
 ity for the thoughtless to neglect them, and for the 
 perverse and disingenuous to dispute against them. 
 Nor are there wanting mysteries connected with 
 them, — such as the permission both of physical and 
 moral evil, — which are to the full as incapable of ex- 
 planation as any of the most mysterious articles of 
 revealed truth. Now, my dear Friends, if these 
 things be so, — if in regard to the ordinary affairs of 
 life, to the general reception of the great truths of 
 physical science, and to the fundamental articles of 
 natural religion, men are accustomed to give the 
 fullest credit to proofs, that come unquestionably 
 short of actual demonstration, — I see not why they 
 should withhold credit from the like proofs, when 
 they come to consider the claims of Christianity. I 
 see not why Christianity should be the only subject, 
 of which it should be thought reasonable to say, that 
 we will not believe it without evidence of such a kind, 
 as leaves us not even a possibility of doing otherwise. 
 I hold, on the contrary, that the very circumstance of 
 stich overwhelming proof not having been afforded, is 
 
 N 
 
1 94 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 of itself a manifestation of the Divine wisdom, inas- 
 much as it leaves room for that exercise of candoury 
 diligence^ attention, hu77tility, and discretion, which 
 constitutes, in this probationary state, the proper dis- 
 cipline and trial of the understanding.'" It seems to 
 have been most wisely no part of God's purpose, in 
 dealing with His creatures in matters of a religious 
 nature, to compel their belief 2ir\y more than their obe- 
 dience. And, accordingly, He neither presents light 
 to produce the one, nor motives to secure the other, 
 in a manner so overpowering, as to render our com- 
 pliance a mere matter of mechanical constraint ; but 
 rather administers them in such a way, and in such a 
 measure, that their influence depends greatly on the 
 character and exercise of those different minds to 
 which they are presented. There is meant to be a 
 probatioji of the intellect, just as much as a probation 
 of the heart. And this there could not be, if the evi- 
 dences of Divine truth were of so obtrusive and pal- 
 pable a character, as to leave no scope, and no oppor- 
 tunity for a right or wrong exercise of intellect with 
 respect to them. It is quite true, that owing to this 
 want of demonstrative proof, there are various doubts 
 and difficulties of a speculative nature, with which the 
 mind may occasionally be perplexed. But these, it 
 ought to be considered, stand in very much the same 
 relation to the exercise of our understanding, as the 
 allurements of sin or the sacrifices of virtue relatively 
 to the culture and discipline of the heart. Speaking 
 of both, we may say with the like justice : " Blessed 
 is the man that endureth temptation : for when he is 
 tried he shall receive the crown of life." And just 
 
 * Cf. The Mysteries of Christianity, p. 99. 
 
Christ judges the Unbeliever. 195 
 
 as a man's moral principle is more conspicuous when 
 he steadily prosecutes a course of holy living in the 
 face of strong inducements to depart from it, than if 
 he were all the while acting as he does from the 
 mere want of any temptation to do otherwise ; so 
 may we say that a man's belief is more commendable 
 when it has been arrived at by diligent and patient 
 inquiry, in the face of doubts, and difficulties, and ob- 
 jections, than when it is produced unavoidably in his 
 mind, without any generous exercise of his faculties, 
 by proofs so conspicuous that they cannot be over- 
 looked, and so overwhelming that they cannot be re- 
 sisted. On this grround alone, althouo^h there were 
 no other, may we see the justice of our Lord's maxim 
 in the text, " Blessed are they that have not seen, 
 and' yet have believed." TJieii'- faith is all the more 
 noble and illustrious in proportion to the greater diffi- 
 culties surmounted, both in its original acquirement, 
 and in its after exercise — the higher degree of dili- 
 gence, and attention, and candour, and humility, and 
 teachableness implied in it ; and, I may add, the 
 brighter instance which it furnishes of the enlighten- 
 ing and convincing efficacy of the grace of God. 
 
 And now, Brethren, that I have endeavoured to 
 illustrate the gracious benediction here uttered by the 
 Saviour, let me express a lively hope that many of 
 you may be found among the number of those blessed 
 ones on whom it was pronounced. Seek to be par- 
 takers of that precious faith, with which all the bless- 
 ings of the Gospel are connected, — that faith which 
 is " the substance of things hoped for, and the evi- 
 dence of things not seen." You are not expected. 
 
1 96 The Unbelief of Thomas. 
 
 indeed, to give credit to any statements, for which a 
 sufficiency of evidence has not been afforded to satisfy 
 a candid mind that they are indeed the truths of God. 
 But having, as you all have, the Word of God in 
 your possession, and satisfied, as you all profess to 
 be, on the ground of those miracles and prophecies, 
 and other marks of Divinity belonging to it, that it 
 really does contain a record of His mind and will, you 
 are bound to search it with diligence and candour ; 
 and to receive whatsoever truths you find to be re- 
 vealed in it, though they relate to things that are 
 invisible, and involve doctrines that exceed your com- 
 prehension. Alas ! we are too apt to stumble at Divine 
 truths, because they are not presented to us in that 
 precise shape which accords with our own views and 
 wishes. We wish them to be brought, if not actually, 
 as Thomas did, to the test of our own senses, — at least 
 to some other standard equally inadmissible, — our nar- 
 row intellect, our limited experience, our hasty concep-. 
 tions of fitness or probability. And unless they per- 
 ceptibly abide the standard, we are ready, in an unbe- 
 lieving spirit, to set them aside. We are slow to give 
 credit to certain revealed facts, or to take to ourselves 
 the comfort of certain revealed promises, — not from 
 any lack of Scriptural evidence to assure us of them, 
 but because some other ground of confidence in them 
 is withheld. They seem to us strange things. They 
 are foreign to our experience. They hurt our pride, 
 or they exceed our comprehension ; and we cannot 
 discover their propriety or expediency. Let us be- 
 ware, however, " lest there be in any of us an evil 
 heart of unbelief." When once we have admitted 
 the Bible to be the Word of God, we must thence- 
 
Christ judges the Unbeliever. 197 
 
 forth come to it, not as judges to dictate what man- 
 ner of truths it is to declare, or with what kind and 
 measure of evidence it is to propose them to us, 
 but with the meekness and teachableness of little 
 children, to receive in faith whatsoever it reveals. 
 We must cast down all imaginations, and every high 
 thing that exalteth itself against the Lord, and 
 bring every thought into captivity to the obedience of 
 Christ. So shall we be partakers of that blessedness, 
 which is promised in the text to those who are con- 
 tent, in this present scene of darkness and imperfec- 
 tion, to walk by faith and not by sight. We shall be 
 greatly blessed, even for the present, with the favour, 
 and grace, and fellowship of our risen Redeemer, 
 whom having not seen we love ; and blessed 
 supremely and eternally hereafter with that fulness 
 of joy in His presence, which He is reserving for 
 those that are kept by His power through faith unto 
 salvation. 
 
198 
 
 XI. 
 
 THE UNCHANGEABLENESS OF CHRIST. 
 
 "Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever." — Heb. xiii. 8. 
 
 In the preceding verse the Hebrews are exhorted 
 to a faithful remembrance and zealous imitation of 
 those departed servants of the Lord, under whose 
 pastoral superintendence they had been placed : 
 " Remember them which have the rule over you, 
 who have spoken unto you the word of God ; whose 
 faith follow, considering the end of their conversa- 
 tion." The persons thus commended to them appear 
 to be not their present, but rather their former pastors. 
 It is true the English expression, " them which have 
 the rule over you," would, if taken by itself, seem to in- 
 dicate their present rulers ; but not so the correspond- 
 ing expression in the original, which might equally be 
 rendered " them which have had the rule over you," 
 pointing, as it simply does in a general and indefinite 
 manner, to the office of ruling with which the persons 
 had been invested, without any special reference to 
 the time, whether past or present, when that office 
 was discharged. The call to " remember " them, — 
 the description given of them not as now speaki^ig, 
 but as ''having spoken the word of God," and the 
 
The Unchangeabletiess of Christ. 1 99 
 
 allusion made to the ''end',' or literally the outgomg 
 or exit, of their conversation as worthy of special 
 remark, — all serve to show that their presence was 
 withdrawn, their labour ended, and their course 
 finished. The object of the writer in referring to 
 them evidently was, that the Hebrews, bearing in 
 affectionate remembrance their animating example 
 as well as their instructive doctrine, and considering, 
 above all, how in death they had set their seal to 
 those precious truths which in life they had been 
 wont to proclaim, might learn by Divine grace to 
 walk in their footsteps, so as, in terms of a precious 
 exhortation, given in the earlier part of this Epistle, 
 to be " followers of them who through faith and 
 patience inherit the promises." 
 
 The words of the text which follow close after 
 are held by some commentators to be part of the 
 same sentence and to be read thus : " Whose faith 
 follow, considering the end of their conversation, 
 which was Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to- 
 day, and for ever." This view, however, is altogether 
 inadmissible. Christ might indeed be called the 
 ''end of their conversation',' if by that we could 
 understand in the present instance the main design 
 or object of their life. For we cannot doubt that " to 
 them to live was Christ," and that whatsoever they 
 did in word or deed, they did all in the name of the 
 Lord Jesus. The original phrase, however, will not 
 bear such a meaning. It signifies the close or ter- 
 mination of their life, — their exit or departure out 
 of that temporary scene of labour and of disci- 
 pline in which they had last been engaged. And 
 in this sense it cannot be said with any propriety 
 
200 The Unchangeablejicss of Cliyist. 
 
 that "the end of their conversation" was "Jesus 
 Christ." 
 
 But though the words before us must be taken as 
 a new and distinct sentence, there can be no doubt 
 that the exhortation contained in the previous verse 
 served very naturally to suggest and introduce them. 
 It might be that the loss which the Hebrews had 
 sustained by the removal of esteemed pastors, who 
 had declared to them the Word of life, led the writer 
 to comfort their minds with the reflection that they 
 had always with them the one great Shepherd and 
 Bishop of souls, of whom no lapse of time or change 
 of circumstances could ever deprive them. Or it 
 might no less probably be that the allusion to depart- 
 ed teachers as worthy of imitation, — from the strength 
 ■ of their faith, the ardour of their zeal, the holiness of 
 their lives, and the fortitude of their deaths, — induced 
 him to remind those who were now called to follow 
 them, of that unchanged and unchangeable Saviour, 
 whose never-failing grace might enable them to do so 
 — His power, and love, and wisdom, and faithfulness 
 being the same to them as to those who had gone 
 before them. 
 
 According to either view of their connection with 
 the previous sentence, the words of the text convey 
 to us a great truth that is highly conducive to our 
 comfort and encouragement. In a world of constant 
 change and uncertainty, in which our firmest props 
 are ever apt to fail, and our fondest hopes to dis- 
 appoint us, we eagerly long for some immovable 
 ground on which the confidence of our souls may be 
 securely rested. And called as we are, in the prose- 
 cution of our Christian course, to imitate many bright 
 
The U nchajigeableness of Christ. 20 1 
 
 patterns of moral excellence, by whom we find our- 
 selves incomparably surpassed, it is in the highest 
 degree desirable to be assured that the same Divine 
 agency, to which they were indebted for all their 
 eminent attainments in the life of faith, is ready, in 
 our case even as in theirs, to be exerted with undi- 
 minished efficacy. 
 
 And surely all we could thus wish for is fully 
 supplied in this statement, in which it is declared 
 that the Lord Jesus Christ, here set forth as the ob- 
 ject of our faith and the source of all our strength 
 and consolation, is " the same yesterday, and to-day, 
 and for ever.'' 
 
 I. This statement may, in the first place, be under- 
 stood with reference to the essential attributes of the 
 Saviour s Person, as the eternal and unchangeable Son 
 of God. 
 
 No words could more emphatically convey the idea 
 of an existence in which there is no mutability, than 
 those which are here employed. To be " the same 
 yesterday, and to-day, and for ever" — that is to say, 
 in titne past, present, and to come — evidently implies 
 the possession of a nature that is underived, indepen- 
 dent, and unalterable ; such as can be attributed to 
 no created being, but only to the self-existent Jeho- 
 vah Himself, with whom there is no variableness nor 
 shadow of turning. Nor is it in this text only that 
 this distinguishing attribute of the Godhead is ascribed 
 to the Lord Jesus. Towards the commencement of 
 this Epistle these remarkable words of the Psalmist 
 are applied to Him, " Thy throne, O God, is for ever 
 and ever ; " " Thou art the same, and Thy years shall 
 
202 The U nchangeableness of Chrisf. 
 
 not fail." And we find Him declaring with reference 
 to Himself, " Before Abraham was I am ; " and again, 
 " I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end- 
 ing, which is, and which was, and which is to come." 
 
 From these plain testimonies, fully borne out by the 
 no less unequivocal ascription to Him of other essential 
 perfections of the Divine nature, we are unavoidably 
 led to the conclusion that all heavenly honours and 
 prerogatives belong to Him — that He thinks it not 
 robbery to be equal with God — and that in Him 
 dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead. 
 
 Nor let it be thought that the Divinity of our 
 Lord, of which we have here an evidence so explicit, 
 is a matter of barren and useless speculation. Our 
 highest interests as believers are involved in it. On 
 no other ground is it possible to explain the saving 
 efficacy of His sufferings and obedience. These, had 
 He been but a creature however exalted, He would 
 have been bound, on His own account, to undergo 
 when they were laid upon Him by the will of His 
 Creator. But being the coeternal and coequal Son 
 of God, He was under no such personal obligation. 
 His submission to them was altogether gratuitous, 
 and its merit transferable to those for whom He inter- 
 posed. And at the same time the excellence of His 
 Divine nature gave to His obedience and sufferings 
 an infinite merit, such as was adequate to the redemp- 
 tion of a world of sinners. 
 
 Need I say how full a source it is of peace and 
 consolation to the sinner, burdened with a conviction 
 of his guilt, and groaning under a sense of his in- 
 firmities, to know that the Saviour on whom he is 
 called to rely, is Himself the immutable Jehovah, and 
 
The Ujtchangeableness of Christ. 203 
 
 that all His Divine perfections are unalterably pledged 
 and will be most unfailingly exerted to secure the 
 welfare and happiness of His people ? With this 
 precious truth distinctly before his mind, how confi- 
 dently may the Christian exclaim : •' Behold, God is my 
 salvation ; I will trust and not be afraid : for the Lord 
 Jehovah is my strength and my song; He also is be- 
 come my salvation ; " " I know Him whom I have be- 
 lieved, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that 
 which I have committed unto Him against that day" ! 
 
 n. But thouofh the words of the text be thus 
 clearly significant of the absolute Unchangeableness 
 of the Saviour's Person as the eternal Son of God, it 
 seems to have been intended by the sacred writer that 
 we should specially understand them of the Lord 
 Jesus Christ in His mediatorial capacity, or in the 
 relation which He bears to His redeemed people. 
 And, therefore, I go on to observe that we are here 
 taught to regard the Lord yesus as unalterably the 
 same in the office He sustains as the only and all-suffi- 
 cient Saviour of believers. 
 
 There never has been, and there never will be, any 
 other Mediator between God and man than He, who 
 from the beginning of time to the end of ages has 
 been carrying onwards, and still continues to prose- 
 cute His one harmonious scheme of mercy and salva- 
 tion. In the " yesterday " of the older dispensations, 
 in the "to-day "of Gospel light and grace, in the 
 coming "ever" of millennial peace and heavenly glory, 
 — «//, from the first sinner who was ransomed by His 
 blood, to the last elect soul that shall be pardoned 
 and reclaimed, have owned and always will joyfully 
 
204 ^-^^^ Unchangeableness of Christ. 
 
 own Him as the Author and the Finisher of their 
 faith. Typical high priests were appointed to pre- 
 figure Him. But these were not suffered to continue 
 by reason of death ; whereas He, as the High Priest 
 of our profession, continueth ever, and " hath an un- 
 changeable Priesthood." Typical sacrifices were for 
 a time ordained as faint preparatory emblems of His 
 atonement. But His great sacrifice is of perpetual 
 efiicacy. The *' Lamb slain from the foundation of 
 the world " still stands in the midst of the throne, " a 
 Lamb as it had been slain." And one song of praise 
 continually ascends to Him from Patriarchs, Prophets, 
 Apostles, Martyrs, and glorified Saints of every na- 
 tion and of every age, for having washed them from 
 their sins in His own blood, and made them kings 
 and priests unto God. Subordinate pastors and 
 teachers have been raised up to expound His doc- 
 trine, to set forth His offered grace, and to labour for 
 the conversion and edification of His people. But 
 these, however eminent their gifts, and however great 
 their usefulness, must pass away. " Our fathers, where 
 are they ? and the prophets, do they live for ever ?" 
 All human agencies are transient and mutable. But 
 Christ, the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls, is 
 without variableness ; and though all flesh be as 
 grass, and all the goodliness thereof as the flower of 
 the grass. His Word, which by the Gospel is preached 
 to us, endureth for ever. Need I add, that while His 
 office is thus the same, so also are His qzialifications 
 for its exercise ? The might of His power, the ex- 
 cellency of His wisdom, the freeness of His grace, 
 the warmth of His love, the perfection of His merits, 
 and the prevalence of His intercession, are subject to 
 
The Unchaiigeableness of Christ. 205 
 
 no diminution in the lapse of ages. Whatever He 
 has done at any period of the world's history for the 
 enlightenment of the most ignorant, or the pardon 
 of the most guilty, or the strengthening of the most 
 feeble, or the comforting of the most wretched, or the 
 sanctification of the most depraved. He is equally 
 able and ready to do again and again as often as He 
 is solicited. In Him it pleased the Father that all 
 fulness should dwell. And still does it dwell in Him ; 
 nor is it in the least exhausted by the utmost extent 
 and frequency of diffusion. Race after race of sin- 
 ners, to the end of time, may be confidently invited 
 to put their trust in Him. For " His name," as 
 Jesus, the Saviour, " shall endure for ever ; His name 
 shall last as long as the sun ; and men shall be blessed 
 in Him ; all nations shall call Him blessed." Yes, 
 Brethren, and in this respect the sun may, indeed, 
 be viewed as a fit, though feeble, emblem of the 
 Saviour's excellence. The same glorious lurninary 
 which shone on Adam in Paradise, and on Noah 
 when he came out of the ark, has been scattering his 
 enlightening and fostering rays for thousands of years 
 on every region of the world, and yet shines as 
 brightly as when he was first created. So shall it 
 be with the still more glorious Sun of Righteousness. 
 Though millions, who have already beheld Him, 
 have been cheered by His light, and cherished by 
 His genial influences. He shall still arise on millions 
 yet to be illuminated, with undiminished brightness 
 and healing in His wings. For it is our strong 
 consolation to be assured that He, in whom alone 
 there is life and salvation, is, in His fitness and 
 sufficiency for His gracious work, "the same yester- 
 
2o6 The Unchangeableness of Christ. 
 
 day, and to-day, and for ever," — able to save unto 
 the uttermost, and evermore, all who come unto God 
 by Him. 
 
 III. This statement farther implies that the Lord 
 Jesus is ever the same in His kind and compassionate 
 dispositions towards His people. Earthly friends 
 are too often fickle and capricious. Some slight, and 
 perhaps unintentional, offence will alienate them. Any 
 important change in our circumstances, or in their 
 own, will readily induce them to forget or to desert 
 us. Not so Is it with that Heavenly Friend, of whom 
 it may be truly said, that "He sticketh closer than a 
 brother." His love is, like Himself, unchangeable. 
 No lapse of time, or distance of space, can separate 
 us from it. Not even the coldness and ingratitude 
 with which it is so frequently met, and so unworthily 
 requited, can extinguish or exhaust it. Its sensible 
 manifestations may, indeed, be interrupted for the 
 chastening and correction of our sinful hearts. But 
 even then it is not finally withdrawn. It glows as 
 warmly as ever within His breast. He hath said : 
 ** I will never leave thee nor forsake thee ; for a 
 small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great 
 mercies will I gather thee. In a little wrath I hid 
 my face from thee for a moment ; but with everlasting 
 kindness will I have mercy on thee : for the moun- 
 tains shall depart, and the hills be removed, but my 
 kindness shall not depart from thee, neither shall the 
 covenant of my peace be removed." We may, then, 
 with all certainty rely on the continuance of what- 
 ever we may at any time have experienced of the 
 friendship and loving-kindness of the Saviour. His 
 
The Unchangeableness of Christ. 207 
 
 outward dealings with us may indeed vary. And our 
 own inward sense of His goodness may fluctuate. 
 But He never varies or fluctuates in His love to 
 those who are heartily placing their trust in Him. 
 " Having loved His own from the beginning, He 
 loves them still, and will love them to the end." 
 
 Nor, happily, are we left, in reference to this mat- 
 ter, to form our judgment from the results merely 
 of 0217" ozvn experience. We may take also for our 
 guidance the experience of others, who have more 
 largely and more sensibly tasted of His goodness, 
 and cheer our hearts with the confident persuasion, 
 that whatever the Saviour was, and whatever He did 
 to them, He is equally ready to be and do for us. 
 Most of all may we take for our instruction the sure 
 record given of His mercies in the Word of God. 
 We see there what manner of love we may expect 
 from Him. Think of the manifold proofs that are 
 there recorded of His never-failing kindness and 
 compassion, while He dwelt in visible presence 
 among the sons of men. See how He literally 
 " went about doing good ; " healing the sick, com- 
 forting the sorrowful, instructing the ignorant, re- 
 claiming the sinful, inviting the weary and heavy- 
 laden to come to Him, and blessing all who came 
 with the fulness of His grace. Behold how meekly 
 He endured the contradiction of sinners, — how pa- 
 tiently He bore with the infirmities of His followers, 
 — how tenderly He wept, and how fervently He 
 prayed for those who were obstinately despising and 
 rejecting Him! See how He condescended to the 
 humblest, and encouraged the weakest, and pitied 
 the most unworthy, — how kindly He took up little 
 
2o8 The Unchangeableness of Christ. 
 
 children into His arms, — how fully He sympathised 
 in the groanings of His spirit with those who were 
 lamenting the loss of a departed friend, — how mer- 
 cifully He interposed in the face of the most injurious 
 calumnies to vindicate the faith and dry up the tears 
 of one who had shortly before been noted for her 
 profligacy, — how generously, on the very evening 
 before His death. He seemed to forget His own 
 approaching sufferings in His anxiety to comfort the 
 drooping spirits of His disciples, — how considerately 
 He softened His merited reproof, when they failed 
 to watch with Him in the dark hour of His agony, 
 by saying that " the spirit was willing, though the 
 flesh was weak," — how mildly He turned and looked 
 upon Peter when that faithless friend was protesting 
 that he knew Him not, — how cordially He forgave, 
 not Peter only who had denied Him, but all the 
 others who had forsaken Him and fled when after 
 His resurrection they penitently returned to Him, — • 
 and how affectionately, amid the glories of His as- 
 cension, He lifted up His hands to bless them at the 
 very time when the clouds were receiving Him out 
 of their sight ! Think of all this, to say nothing of 
 that unspeakable manifestation of His love which He 
 gave when laying down His life for us on the cross, 
 and then say, if it be not a source of the fullest com- 
 fort to reflect that He, of whom such things have 
 been recorded, is " the same yesterday, and to-day, 
 and for ever," — that the splendours of His present 
 exalted condition have not changed Him, — that He 
 still retains amidst the celestial glory those compas- 
 sionate dispositions which dwelt within Him while on 
 earth, — that He is touched now as much as ever with 
 
The Unchangeableness of Christ. 209 
 
 the feeling of our infirmities, and ready at all times 
 to pity and relieve us. Oh ! where is the sinner 
 who may not come to such a Saviour ? And where 
 is the disciple who would not cleave to such a Lord ? 
 
 IV. I must yet farther observe in illustration of 
 this statement, that Christ is unchangeably the same 
 in His adherence to the declarations and reqinrenients 
 of His Word. For ever His Word is settled in 
 heaven, and His faithfulness is unto all genera- 
 tions. Heaven and earth shall pass away, but His 
 words shall in no wise pass away. Although men 
 believe not, yet He abideth faithful ; He cannot deny 
 Himself 
 
 This statement may be specially applied to the 
 promises and threatenings of the Word of Chiast. 
 These are all of them the true sayings of One who 
 will not fail to carry them into full effect. His pro- 
 mises, exceeding great and precious as they are, shall 
 all to the utmost jot and tittle be fulfilled. This has 
 ever been the experience of His people. In so far 
 as they have trusted Him, they have found that He 
 has never deceived them. Not one thino- on His 
 part has ever failed of all the good which He said 
 that He would do for them. Enthusiasts, indeed, 
 who have put their own vain imaginations in the 
 place of His Word, and have presumed to call their 
 own fancies or feelings by the name of promises, 
 have often met with disappointments ; nor could they 
 reasonably expect that it should be otherwise. But 
 those who rest on the clear promises of the Gospel, 
 and wait in faith and hope for their accomplishment, 
 shall not be ashamed or confounded, world without 
 
 o 
 
2 1 o The Unchangeableness of Christ. 
 
 end. We have heard with our ears, and our fathers 
 have told us what works He did in their day, and we 
 feel assured that He will help us too for His name's 
 sake and for His honour. But, on the other hand, the 
 threatenings of the Lord are equally sure to be car- 
 ried into execution against all such as have right- 
 eously incurred them. In this respect the Unchange- 
 ableness of Christ, like the pillar that guided His 
 ancient people through the wilderness, has a dark 
 side as well as a bright side, — an aspect of wrath 
 and terror to the impenitent, as well as an aspect of 
 comfort to the faithful. It is a fearful thing for un- 
 believing and ungodly men to fall into the hands of 
 that unchangeable Lord, with whom in His justice, 
 and holiness, and truth, no less than in His mercy, 
 there is no shadow of turning. Sinners may try to 
 delude themselves with the hope that the Lord is too 
 merciful to deal with them at last according to the 
 full extent of His threatenings. But it is a vain and 
 impious imagination. " Hath He said, and shall He 
 not do it ? Hath He spoken, and shall He not make 
 it good ? " Verily, " He is not man, that He should 
 lie ; or the son of man, that He should repent." We 
 have many striking instances on record, — in the 
 waters of the deluge, in the flames of Sodom, in the 
 plagues of Egypt, in the fall of Jerusalem, and in other 
 signal visitations of Divine anger — to show how faith- 
 ful the Lord is in executing His purposes of wrath as 
 well as His designs of mercy. And He is the Lord, 
 who changeth not. His word of truth is unalterably 
 pledged to the woes denounced against the workers 
 of iniquity. And upon all such as perversely abuse 
 
TJie Unchangeableness of CJmst. 2 1 1 
 
 the present fleeting period of His forbearance, His 
 threatened wrath shall come unto the uttermost. 
 
 Thus have I endeavoured to illustrate the precious 
 and interesting doctrine of the Unchangeableness of 
 Christ in some of the chief lights in which it may be 
 viewed. And now let us inquire what manner of 
 profitable counsel and consolation, of needful " cor- 
 rection and instruction in righteousness," may be de- 
 rived from this weighty and important truth. 
 
 1. We learn from this subject confidently to anti- 
 cipate the progressive advancement and final triumph 
 of the Christian cause. He who has established His 
 kingdom upon earth, ever lives to protect and to ex- 
 tend it. Subordinate agents and instruments that 
 seemed to be almost essential to its prosperity may 
 be removed. Prophets may cease. Apostles may 
 be withdrawn. Pastors and teachers of eminent use- 
 fulness may be taken away. But He who is head 
 over all things to His Church will never fail it. Its 
 interests are always safe under His guardianship. 
 Its enemies are vain and harmless against His power. 
 " Upon this Rock," He says, " I will build my Church ; 
 and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it." 
 
 2. We learn also from this subject fully to rely on 
 the fixed terms and settled arrangements of the Gos- 
 pel. The covenant which God has made with us in 
 Christ Jesus, is ordered in all things and sure ; and 
 nothing will ever prevail with Him to deviate from 
 it. Vain are all the hopes which sinners would at- 
 tempt to build on any other ground than the Word of 
 God proposes to them. There is no other than one 
 
212 * The Unchangeableness of Christ. 
 
 unchangeable Mediator through whom we can find 
 acceptance with the Father. And there is no other 
 than one unvarying way of faith, repentance, self-de- 
 nial, and progressive holiness, by which He under- 
 takes to save us from the coming wrath, and bring 
 us to the ultimate enjoyment of the promised glory. 
 Equally vain are all those doubts and fears which are 
 apt t^ deter sinners from closing with the great sal- 
 vation. He who invites us to come to Him for life 
 eternal is One who cannot deceive, and will not dis- 
 appoint us. The Author of our faith is the Author 
 of our being ; the Captain of our salvation is the 
 Governor of the universe. All power belongs to Him 
 in heaven and on earth. And it is all pledged by Him 
 who changeth not, to be unfailingly exercised in saving 
 to the uttermost such as put their trust in Him. 
 
 3. We learn further, from this subject, how great 
 is the encouragement which believers may draw from 
 the grace of their Redeemer amid all the trials and 
 difficulties of the Christian life. He is at all times 
 our very present help, our never-failing Counsellor 
 and Guardian. Nothing can ever separate us from 
 His love — nothing can harm us when under His pro- 
 tection. We may groan beneath the burden of our 
 sins, but He is ever nigh to relieve us of their load. 
 We may be disheartened at the thought of our infir- 
 mities ; but with Him there is everlasting strength, 
 and that strength is ready to be made perfect in our 
 weakness. We may be appalled by our enemies and 
 temptations ; but He by His grace can make us 
 more than conquerors. We may be filled with de- 
 spondency when we reflect how far we come short of 
 
The Ufichangeableitess of Christ . 213 
 
 the faith, and patience, and holy resolution, and god- 
 liness, and heavenly-mindedness, of many devoted 
 servants of the Lord who have been held up as 
 models for our imitation ; but that gracious Lord 
 who so remarkably distinguished them, will, if we 
 trust in Him, be the same to us that He was to them 
 in His strengthening, perfecting, and sanctifying influ- 
 ences. " My grace," He still says to each of us, 
 *' is sufficient for thee ; " " as thy days, so shall thy 
 strength be." 
 
 4. Finally, we may derive from this subject the 
 strongest consolations and supports amid all the 
 losses and vicissitudes of this mortal state. We 
 live in a changing world, a world of fading joys, 
 and disappointing hopes, and transient connections. 
 We know not what a day may bring forth. We are 
 liable every moment to be deprived of these earthly 
 blessings which we would most fondly call our own. 
 Possessions which we cling to may make to them- 
 selves wings and flee away. Schemes and projects, 
 in which we are disposed most confidently to engage, 
 may be frustrated and ruined. Friends, on whom 
 we are accustomed to rely, may faithlessly deceive 
 us or heartlessly forsake us. Those whom we love 
 best, and who have most truly loved us, — our most 
 faithful friends, our most valued instructors, our dear- 
 est relatives, — may be taken from us by the stroke 
 of death. But this best support and comfort ever re- 
 mains, as an anchor to the soul both sure and stead- 
 fast, — an uncJtanging Savioicr, whose love is all-suffi- 
 cient to alleviate every sorrow and compensate every 
 loss. To Him, then, let us cleave; on Him let us 
 
214 ^^^^ Unchangeableness of Christ. 
 
 cast the burden of all our cares ; from Him let us 
 seek relief in all our troubles. So, amidst the vicissi- 
 tudes and afflictions to which in this mutable state 
 of existence we are exposed, shall we realise the full 
 worth and comfort of this precious truth, " Jesus 
 Christ the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever;" 
 and " the God of all grace, who hath called us unto 
 His eternal glory by Christ Jesus," after that we 
 have suffered awhile, "shall stablish, strengthen, and 
 settle" us, and bring us to His heavenly kingdom. 
 
215 
 
 XII. 
 
 CHRIST'S LIVING EPISTLES. 
 
 " Ye are our epistle written in our hearts, known and read of all men : for- 
 asmuch as ye are manifestly declared to be the epistle of Christ ministered 
 by us, written not with ink, but with the Spirit of the living God ; not 
 in tables of stone, but in fleshy tables of the heart." — 2 Corinthians, 
 iii. 2, 3, 
 
 The Apostle Paul, in writing to the Corinthians, had 
 frequent occasion to vindicate himself from the asper- 
 sions cast on him by certain false teachers, who called 
 in question his claims to the Apostleship. Among 
 other arguments to which he appealed in confirmation 
 of the authority of his sacred office, one of the most 
 forcible was the practical i^esiilt with which his labours 
 in that office had been attended. He was willing to 
 be tried by no less severe a test than that which his 
 heavenly Master had furnished when, having issued 
 His warning against false prophets, He added, " dy 
 their fruits ye shall know them J' He felt that no 
 other evidence was needful than that which the hearts 
 and lives of his true converts might abundantly afford 
 to prove that the Lord, whose he was and whom 
 he served, had owned and singularly blessed his 
 ministrations. 
 
 "Am I notdcn Apostle?" we find him arguing in 
 
2i6 CJirisfs Living Epistles. 
 
 his former Epistle, " Are not ye " — even ye — " my 
 work in the Lord ? If I be not an Apostle unto 
 others, yet doubtless I am to yott ; for the seal of 
 mine Apostleship are jj/^ in the Lord." 
 
 To the like purpose is his argument in the passage 
 before us. " Do we," he had asked in the preceding 
 verse — " do we begin again to commend ourselves ? 
 or need we, as some others, epistles of commendation 
 to you, or letters of commendation from you ? " ' No, 
 trulyl he leaves them to answer. Any such testimonial 
 was, in the circumstances, altogether unnecessary. For, 
 as he adds in the text : " Ye are our Epistle, written 
 in our hearts" (or, as some manuscripts have it, 
 " written in your hearts "), — " Ye are our Epistle, 
 written in your hearts, known and read of all men ; 
 forasmuch as ye are manifestly declared to be the 
 Epistle of Christ ministered by us." 
 
 This was indeed an argument for his Apostleship, 
 the force of which it was not easy to call in question. 
 His faithful converts possessed in their own experi- 
 ence, and openly exhibited in their consistent lives, 
 a proof that his labours had truly been accompanied 
 with the power and demonstration of the Holy 
 Spirit. Whatever his enemies and detractors might 
 say against him, — as not having " companied " with 
 the other Apostles from the beginning — as not having 
 been in the first instance nominated, like the successor 
 of Judas, by the voice of the assembled Church — as 
 having recently been a blasphemer and a persecutor — 
 or as otherwise lacking what they may have conceived 
 to be the proper signs and credentials of a Divine 
 commission, — the faithful Christians at least knew 
 in themselves, and all who candidly observed them 
 
Chrisfs Living Epistles. 2 1 7 
 
 were obliged to acknowledge that he had, of a truth, 
 been in their case a " chosen vessel to bear the name 
 of the Lord before the Gentiles." Whether he had 
 other marks of the Apostleship was to them, accord- 
 ingly, a matter of comparative indifference. One thing 
 they knew, that whereas they were once blind, they 
 had now, through his instrumentality, been made to 
 see. He had been the means of awakening and con- 
 verting them ; of turning them from darkness unto light, 
 and from the power of Satan unto God. And how then 
 could either they who had experienced, or others who 
 had observed, the change that had been wrought in 
 them, dispute his claims to the office he sustained ? 
 They were themselves the seal of his Apostleship ; 
 and what other seal then was necessary to attest it ? 
 They were themselves the Epistle of Christ minis- 
 tered by him ; and what other letters of commen- 
 dation need he bring to them 1 
 
 It would be well, truly, if Christians in these days 
 would enable those who are set over them in the 
 Lord to make any such triumphant appeal as this. 
 We might in that case almost venture to dispense 
 with other arguments for the warrant of our ministry. 
 For who shall repudiate that which God is pleased to 
 own ? Who shall reject as altogether invalid those 
 ministrations which He is pleased to bless for the 
 edifying of the body of Christ ? 
 
 Whether the preachers of His Gospel be able to 
 plead the antiquity of the Church with which they 
 are connected, or its independence of the kingdoms 
 of this world, or its exact conformity, even in the 
 minutest points of outward form, to the pattern of the 
 
2 1 8 Chrisfs Living Epistles. 
 
 primitive ages — whether they can trace their author- 
 ity as its pastors to the suit and calHng of the 
 people, or to their own connected succession reaching 
 back unbroken to the days of the Apostles, — these^ 
 truly, are points of very secondary importance as 
 compared with this other and much more momentous 
 question, Whether they have been in any wise instru- 
 mental in bringing men to the knowledge and belief 
 and obedience of "the truth as it is in Jesus" ? So 
 long as it can be said of Zion : ' this man and that man 
 were born in her, — these thoughtless sinners were 
 awakened, — these proud hearts were humbled, — these 
 broken spirits were comforted, — these saints of God 
 were sanctified more and more, and led more fully 
 and richly to adorn themselves with all the graces and 
 virtues of the Christian life,' — it matters little what 
 else may be left unsaid. To all other questions we 
 might then be content to reply, " We are not care- 
 ful to answer you in these matters," — here are our 
 proofs, our practical and solid proofs, that the great 
 Head of the Church is fulfilling to us His own 
 promise, " Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the 
 end of the world," — here are the seals and credentials 
 of our ministry, by which you may see that He has 
 owned it and made it effectual, — here are the best of 
 all letters of commendation to you, even those Epistles 
 of the Lord, written in the hearts and lives of our 
 believing people. 
 
 It is not, however, merely in this light, as living 
 evidences or seals of his own Apostleship, that Paul 
 here appeals to the faithful members of the Corinthian 
 Church. The testimony they bore to his own sue- 
 
Chrisfs Living Epistles. 2 1 9 
 
 cessful labours among them, was of very subordi- 
 nate value in kis estimation to the honour and praise 
 they reflected on his Divine Master. It was more 
 from a regard to the interests of the Gospel, than 
 from any private and personal considerations, that he 
 sought to vindicate the authority of his sacred office. 
 Nor could he even forget that in all that he had been 
 honoured to do, he was but a humble instrument in 
 the hands of God. Accordingly, while he here 
 speaks of the Corinthians as being, in a certain subor- 
 dinate sense, kis own Epistle, he is careful in the 
 very next clause to represent them in the far higher 
 character of Epistles of Christ. 
 
 How this character came to be possessed by tliem 
 is very plainly stated in the text. The Epistles of 
 Christ are " written, not with ink, but with the Spirit 
 of the living God." He is the writer of- them, — 
 even the Holy Spirit, whose special function it is, 
 as the Scriptures teach us, to testify of Christ and 
 to glorify Him, by taking of that which is Christ's 
 and showing it unto us. The agency of human in- 
 struments is indeed employed, for Paul speaks of 
 these Epistles of Christ as " ministered by us." But 
 it is the power of Divine grace that gives to the 
 human instruments all their efficacy. Without this, 
 the most able and earnest ministrations will carry no 
 conviction to the conscience, and make no lasting 
 impression on the heart. Paul may plant, and 
 Apollos may water, but it is God alone who can give 
 the increase. 
 
 It is on the inward character and disposition that 
 the influence of the Spirit is here said to be exerted. 
 
220 Chrisfs Living Epistles, 
 
 The Epistles of Christ are not written, Hke the Law 
 of the Ten Commandments, " on tables of stone," 
 but " in fleshy tables of the heart." The work of 
 Divine grace is altogether spiritual. It has, above 
 all, to do with the heart, which, hard and impene- 
 trable as it may be in its natural state, is softened 
 and made susceptible of holy impressions, by Him 
 who has access to It, in ways that we know not of, and 
 who is able to change and mould it as He may will. 
 
 But, then, though the work of the Spirit be thus 
 inward, its practical results are outward and apparent. 
 Out of the heart are the issues of the life. " The 
 fruit of the Spirit " is manifest, and " is in all goodness, 
 and righteousness, and truth." Accordingly, Chris- 
 tians are represented in the text, not only as Epistles 
 of Christ written on the heart, but as manifestly de- 
 claring themselves to be so, insomuch that they may 
 be " known and read of all meuT 
 
 Such, then, being the peculiar character ascribed 
 in this passage to all real Christians, the question 
 very naturally arises, In what respects does this 
 character belong^ to them ? What is there to be seen 
 about them, that should make such a title as this 
 fitting or appropriate ^ 
 
 An " Epistle," as we all know, is a written com- 
 munication of the mind of the author to those whom 
 he addresses, conveying to them his wishes, inform- 
 ing them of his circumstances, disclosing to them his 
 purposes and expectations, imparting to them his in- 
 structions and advices. It is but a substitute for his 
 personal and familiar converse, — by which, when 
 distant, he is brought nigh, — when out of sight, he 
 
Chrisfs Living Epistles. 22 1 
 
 Is recalled to remembrance, — and by which he may 
 even hold intercourse with those who have never 
 seen his " face in the flesh." 
 
 If Christians, then, be Epistles of Jesus Christy 
 what information do they bring from Hi'in to men 
 around them ? What are their contents ? What may 
 we learn from them respecting the mind and will of the 
 Divine Author from whom they proceed ? 
 
 This is a wide question. It would far exceed our 
 limited time to show you in detail the purport of these 
 living Epistles. All we can now aim at is a very 
 brief outline of some of the chief heads of intellio-ence 
 which are contained in them. 
 
 I. One thing that may very obviously be learned 
 from them is, the practical excellence and infizience of 
 the religion of Christ. 
 
 In so far as believers are enabled, by the grace of 
 God, to live in accordance with their principles and 
 professions, they exhibit to all with whom they asso- 
 ciate a living proof of the excellence of the Gospel. 
 They show both what it is and what it is able to do. 
 They manifest the sanctifying influence of its truths. 
 They illustrate the purity and holiness of its precepts. 
 They refute, in the most satisfactory manner, those 
 groundless charges, with reference to its practical 
 tendency, which unbelieving men are fain to bring 
 against it. They prove it to be, not only a doctrine 
 of the freest grace, but, at the same time, a doctrine 
 of the purest godliness, — repressing every sinful de- 
 sire, and fostering every virtuous disposition, — pro- 
 moting the best interests, spiritual and even temporal, 
 at once of those by whom it is embraced and of all 
 
222 Chrisfs Living Epistles. 
 
 with whom in the bonds of society they are con- 
 nected, and tending to make the " man of God per- 
 fect, thoroughly furnished unto all good works." 
 
 And, truly, it would be difficult to overrate the 
 value of that testimony which would be borne to 
 the truth of God in the midst of an unbelieving 
 world, were Christians in their daily conduct as care- 
 ful as they ought to be, to do substantial justice 
 to that heavenly Master whose followers, nay, whose 
 Epistles, they are called. Oh, Brethren, did men but 
 see our blessed religion visibly and palpably em- 
 bodied In our personal characters — were they but 
 forced to look at it, not in the shape of abstract doc- 
 trines or dry precepts, still less in that of lifeless 
 forms or hollow professions, but warm with life, 
 instinct with power, breathing, moving, acting in the 
 midst of them — did they but see it opening the 
 darkened mind, softening the stony heart, taming the 
 stubborn temper, reforming the vicious life, teach- 
 ing us to live as brethren in unity, and to walk in 
 love, as Christ also loved us — did they but see it 
 shining forth in all the beauties of meekness and 
 humility, patience and contentment, gentleness and 
 forbearance, charity and benevolence, — might we not 
 hope that even the most prejudiced among them 
 would then be constrained, if not to love, at least to 
 honour it ? Would they not be led more carefully to 
 consider, and more candidly to weigh, its claims to 
 their acceptance ? Would not the persuasion in- 
 voluntarily flash upon them, that surely such a reli- 
 gion as this — a religion so pure, so beneficial, so 
 lovely — cannot be the fruit of base artifice or of gross 
 delusion, but must be the very truth of God, and 
 
Chris fs Living Epistles. 223 
 
 worthy of all acceptation by His creatures ? And 
 by the Divine blessing, might they not at length be 
 brought to love it, to confide in it, and to obey it, — 
 to the glory of that God in whose goodness it origin- 
 ated, and by whose grace it is seen to be so effectual ? 
 
 II. Another thing that may be learned from the 
 character of believers, considered as Epistles of the 
 Lord, is, the greatness of that change which sinners 
 must tmdergo in order to fit them for inheriting the 
 kingdom of God. 
 
 The Scriptures speak of this spiritual change in 
 language exceedingly forcible and emphatic. They 
 speak of it as a *' crucifying of the flesh," a ** dying 
 unto sin," — a " renewing of the spirit of the mind," — 
 a " calling out of darkness into marvellous light," — a 
 " putting off of the old man with his deeds, which are 
 corrupt, and a putting on of the new man," formed 
 after the image of Christ. They liken it to a ** new 
 birth" a ''new creation,' a " resurrection from thedead.'^ 
 
 In doing so, however, the statements of the written 
 Word have much need of confirmation by the living 
 Epistle, in order to gain a ready entrance into the 
 heart. The doctrine they reveal is most unpalatable 
 to worldly men. It humbles their pride. It offends 
 their prejudices. It aims the axe at the root of all 
 their cherished sins. " This is a hard saying," they 
 tell us — " who can hear it ? " 
 
 Nor is there anything that tends more lamentably 
 to strengthen their unbelief regarding this important 
 matter than the inconsistencies of some who asszcme the 
 Christian name. When worldly men see that not a 
 few of those who make a high profession of religion. 
 
224 Chrisfs Living Epistles. 
 
 and talk perhaps very fluently and plausibly of their 
 Christian experience, differ so little in personal char- 
 acter from themselves, — when they find these high- 
 sounding professors of Christianity just as self-seeking 
 in their aims, as ambitious and covetous in their dis- 
 position, as narrow-minded and uncharitable in their 
 sentiments, as fretful and peevish in their tempers, 
 or as frivolous in their pleasures and gratifications as 
 others who make no serious profession at all ; — they 
 are led to think that men in their natural state cannot 
 surely be so very far from the kingdom of God as 
 the Scriptures represent ; — they are apt to set down 
 all that the Bible teaches regarding a " new creation," 
 or a " resurrection from death in sin," to the account 
 of poetical licence or oriental figure, or, it may be, of 
 fanatical exaggeration and extravagance ; or, at all 
 events, they are tempted to conclude that the appli- 
 cation of such strong statements must be confined 
 to the case of men who, like the primitive converts, 
 have been recently turned from the abominations of 
 heathenism, and that a very great deduction must 
 be made from them when applied to such as have 
 been born and educated in a Christian land. 
 
 Such is the not unnatural inference of worldly men 
 when witnessing the inconsistencies and grievous 
 shortcomings of many nominal Christians. But let 
 them once be brought into close contact with those 
 who are Christians in sincerity and truth, — let them 
 but peruse the characters of those who may truly 
 be entitled Epistles of Jesus Chi'ist, — and the7t, how 
 different is the impression that is made upon them ! 
 They now see that there is a reality and a power in 
 the work of Divine grace which they never before im- 
 
Chris fs Living Epistles. 225 
 
 agined. They now see that there is a mighty and most 
 essential difference between the children of light and 
 the children of this world, of which they had formerly 
 no adequate conception. To be a Christian, — when 
 they look at these fair though still imperfect patterns 
 of what a Christian ought to be, is not now in their 
 eyes so simple a matter as they once thought it. It 
 is not the mere assumption of a name, however 
 honourable, or the mere assent to a creed, however 
 sound, or the mere observance of a round of forms, 
 however solemn, or the mere utterance of certain con- 
 ventional phrases, however expressive. They now 
 see, that to be a CJiristian is nothing less than to be a 
 7nan renewed after the image of Christ, — to have the 
 likeness of Christ imprinted on the soul, and the 
 life of Christ manifested in the mortal body, — to be of 
 the same mind that was in Christ Jesus — thinking 
 as He thought — loving as He loved— going about, 
 as He did, doing good, — learning of Him to be meek 
 and lowly in heart, — taking up His cross, denying 
 self, and following Him. They now find that the 
 character of a true Christian, with all the imperfec- 
 tions that cleave to It in this life, is one with which 
 they themselves have no real sympathy or fellowship ; 
 and hence, that they must be much more incapable, 
 until some very great change has been wrought in 
 them, of holding fellowship with the spirits of the 
 just made perfect. And thus are the words of Christ 
 brought home to them, and far more powerfully im- 
 pressed upon their hearts than they could be by the 
 most forcible verbal demonstrations, '* Verily, verily, 
 I say unto you. Except a man be born again, he 
 cannot see the kingdom of God," 
 
 p 
 
226 Chrisfs Living Epistles. 
 
 III. Another lesson which we find written, even as 
 with a sunbeam, on these Hving Epistles, is the free- 
 ness, fulness, and efficacy of the grace of Christ. We 
 see in them a practical exhibition of what the Re- 
 deemer can and will do in behalf of all such as put 
 their trust in Him. 
 
 For what were these men more than others in 
 their natural state ? Were they not men of like 
 passions with ourselves, — children of wrath even as 
 others, — involved in the same guilt, subject to the 
 same doom, tainted with the same pollution as the 
 rest of mankind ? And what are they now ? A 
 peculiar and holy people, — blameless and harmless, 
 the sons of God without rebuke, in the midst of a 
 perverse and crooked generation, among whom they 
 shine as lights in the world. And to what is this 
 blessed change to be ascribed ? It is altogether to be 
 attributed to the grace of Christ, which sought, and 
 found, and saved them in their lost estate, setting 
 them free from the bondage of iniquity, as well as 
 from the condemnation of the broken law, and purify- 
 ing them unto the Lord, a peculiar people, zealous of 
 good works. 
 
 Yes ; there are none more ready than themselves 
 to own that "by the grace of God" they are what they 
 are. And that grace is the same to others as it has 
 been to them, equally free, and rich, and efficacious. 
 The Spirit of God is not straitened. The Holy One 
 of Israel is not limited in His operations. The grace 
 of Christ is not monopolised as the exclusive pro- 
 perty of any man or of any class. It is free as the 
 air or light of heaven to all who seek it. What it 
 has done for some, it is able and ready to do for 
 
Chrisfs Living Epistles. 227 
 
 others. The hand of the Lord is not shortened, that 
 it cannot save ; nor His ear heavy, that it cannot hear. 
 In every truly consistent beHever, therefore, we find 
 an ** Epistle of Christ," clearly written and easily read, 
 in which the Lord is manifestly declaring to us the 
 power of His grace and the plenteousness of His 
 redemption. St Paul himself was such an Epistle. 
 For he tells us that though a blasphemer and a per- 
 secutor, and in his own judgment a " chief of sinners,'^ 
 yet he obtained mercy for this very cause, that " in 
 him first " (that is to say, frst or chief of sinners, 
 standing in the front ranks of enmity to the Gospel), 
 "even in liim the Lord Jesus might show forth all 
 long-suffering, for a pattern to them which should 
 hereafter believe." So was it also with the converts 
 in the Corinthian Church. St Paul speaks of them in 
 his previous Epistle as having been once tainted with 
 the grossest abominations ; yea, as having been 
 addicted to such shameful vices as are not even to 
 be named among Christians. And yet he sums up 
 the black catalogue of their iniquities by saying, 
 " Such were some oi you; but ye are washed, but ye 
 are sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of the 
 Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God." In these, 
 and in all like cases, who does not see the hand- 
 writing of the Lord confirming to us the mercies of 
 His Gospel ? He who runs may read in them the 
 gracious things which Christ is ready to do for all who 
 come to Him. We cannot misconstrue the precious 
 declarations which, by means of these living Epistles, 
 He addresses to us. He seems in so many words 
 to be thus writing to us, ' I have saved these sinners, 
 come you also and be saved : a new heart will I give 
 
228 Chris fs Living Epistles. 
 
 to you, and a right spirit will I put within you ; 
 and I will cleanse you from all your iniquities, and 
 remember your transgressions no more. Him that 
 cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out. For see 
 here the trophies and monuments of my power and 
 grace ; read in these sinners, ransomed by my blood 
 and sanctified by my Spirit, the full assurance that I 
 am willing and able to save you to the uttermost.' 
 
 IV. Of thq many other lessons that may be read 
 in the character of true Christians considered as 
 " Epistles of Christ," the only one which your time 
 will allow me to notice, is the power of His Gospel 
 to comfort, and sustain, and satisfy the hearts of those 
 who have sincerely embraced it. 
 
 Although it is written of believers that " the world 
 knoweth them not," and that their " life is hid with 
 Christ in God," yet thus much the world may clearly 
 see, that they must have found something in the 
 practice of a Christian life to recompense them for all 
 their efforts, and support them under all their trials in 
 maintaining it. How else, indeed, is their conduct to 
 be accounted for ? Why do we see them acting so 
 differently from other men ? Why do they enter in so 
 resolutely at the strait gate, and progress so steadily 
 along the narrow way ? Why do they hold no con- 
 ference with flesh and blood, and give no heed to 
 the dictates of self-interest, and show no deference 
 to the fashions of society, in so far as these are at 
 variance with their principles ? Why do we not find 
 them wearied with their labours, disheartened with 
 their trials, disconsolate with their afflictions ? How 
 comes It to pass that they so cheerfully adopt, and 
 
Chrisfs Living Epistles. 229 
 
 what is more wonderful still, so consistently adhere 
 to a course of life which the children of this world 
 would shrink from as altogether irksome and intol- 
 erable ? How is it that we find them peaceful and 
 contented in circumstances that would make other 
 men most miserable, — still trusting in God, and still 
 praising Him when deep seems to be calling unto 
 deep, and mighty waves of adversity to be going 
 over them, — and in the midst of trials the most 
 painful, verifying that wonderful picture which an 
 Apostle draws of them " as sorrowful, yet always 
 rejoicing ; as poor, yet making many rich ; as having 
 nothing, and yet possessing all things " ? Surely 
 there must be some motive adequate to explain their 
 conduct. They must have discovered in the main- 
 tenance of a Christian life something more than the 
 world has yet seen in it, — some recompense for all 
 the toil and trouble and self-denial which it requires 
 of them. They must have found out some gain in 
 godliness, — some pleasantness in the ways of heav- 
 enly wisdom, — some meat to eat that others know 
 not of, — some joy with which a stranger intermed- 
 dleth not, — some peace that passeth understanding, 
 such as the world can neither give nor take away. 
 
 From the conduct of mere nominal Christians, who 
 walk after the course of this world, and are in no 
 respect distinguishable from other men by their calm- 
 ness in trial and their steadfastness in duty, the very 
 opposite inference will be drawn. Sinners will be 
 strongly confirmed by it in their persuasion that the 
 ways of their own heart are better than the ways of 
 God. What else, indeed, can we expect them to con- 
 clude but that religion must be a dull, cheerless, 
 
230 Chris fs Living Epistles. 
 
 unsatisfactory thing, when they find some who make 
 a very high pretension to it steaHng away from it as 
 often as they can, to refresh themselves with the 
 pleasures of the world, and evidently deriving from 
 it no comfort and support at those times when com- 
 fort and support are most needed. 
 
 But not so is it with the genuine Epistles of 
 Christ. You may read in them a palpable and con- 
 vincing proof that " a good man shall be satisfied 
 from himself," — that God's children find enough and 
 to spare for all their exigencies in the provision of 
 their Father's house, — and that those who serve the 
 Lord have no need to look to any other than to Him 
 for their comfort and refreshment. They have tried 
 and found that the Lord is gracious, and that in the 
 keeping of His commandments there is a great re- 
 ward. They have tasted of the hidden manna with 
 which He feeds them, and sigh not any more for the 
 dainties of Egypt. They have felt a gladness diffused 
 within them, when the light of His countenance was 
 lifted on them, far greater than worldly men have 
 ever experienced, even when their corn and wine 
 were most abundant. They have found the part 
 which they have chosen to be of a truth that good 
 part which shall never be taken from them ; and this 
 it is which makes them so firm, so cheerful, so earn- 
 est and devoted in their adherence to it. And thus 
 by their unfailing steadfastness and equanimity do 
 they hold out a practical demonstration to all around 
 them that pure religion is the pearl of great price, 
 and that all things else are unworthy to be com- 
 pared with the hopes which it imparts and the joys 
 which it administers. 
 
Chris fs Living Epistles. 231 
 
 Such are a few of the more Important lessons 
 that may be learned from the character of sincere 
 believers, considered as Epistles of Christ. And you 
 will observe that these lessons ought, If there be any 
 meaning In the text, to be clearly and unequivocally 
 taught by them. The writing on the heart must have 
 Its Index or outward exhibition plainly visible In the 
 conduct. The living Epistles are meant for univer- 
 sal perusal, without the necessity of translation or of 
 commentary. Paul here speaks of them as ^'mani- 
 festly declaring " themselves so as to be " hiown and 
 read of all menr 
 
 It Is a reproach to us as Christians If It ever be 
 otherwise. Surely the Saviour has not done so little 
 for His people that It should remain doubtful, both 
 to themselves and to those who live among them, 
 whether He has done for them anything at all? 
 Surely His Gospel Is not so poor a remedy for the 
 maladies of the soul, that even In the case of those who 
 profess to have been applying It for years together, 
 there should be any serious difficulty In discovering 
 whether or no It be restoring their spiritual health ? 
 Surely the kingdom of Christ does not so nearly ap- 
 proach or so closely resemble the kingdom of Darkness 
 as that men should be at a loss to distinguish whether 
 we are subjects of the one kingdom or of the other ? 
 No. It Is a shame and a reproach to us that there 
 should be the smallest uncertainty In such a matter. 
 If we are real Christians, we ought to be decided ones, 
 standing forth in the world, but yet not ^the world, 
 In broad and marked conformity to the Gospel. 
 
 Alas ! there are many naming the name of Christ 
 who come far short of the character which the text 
 
232 Chrisfs Living Epistles. 
 
 describes. It would not be safe, were we, from what 
 we see in them, to judge of the nature and tendency of 
 their professed ReHgion. The interests of the Gospel 
 would be seriously damaged were we to try it by any 
 such criterion. If a heathen were to come among 
 us, wishing to learn the character of our Religion, 
 we could hardly venture to bid him just look 
 around him at the lives of those by whom it is pro- 
 fessed. They who are nominally the Saviour's living 
 Epistles, would, as an exposition of His doctrines, 
 be no fair or adequate substitute for His written 
 Word. The heathen, it is to be feared, would often 
 read in them not what Christianity is, but what it 
 most assuredly is not. For what shall be said of the 
 manifold iniquities to which, in so many instances, 
 they are addicted ? And not to speak of more gross 
 and scandalous sins, what shall be said of the world- 
 liness, the pride, the selfishness, the vanity, the fret- 
 fulness, the discontentment, the forgetfulness of God, 
 the uncharitableness towards man, which are so often 
 to be found in those who bear the Christian name ? 
 Surely these characters never were inscribed on them 
 by Him whose adorable name they have assumed, 
 but rather by that wicked and deceitful One who is 
 ever ready to counterfeit His handwriting, so as to 
 bring Christ and His Gospel into disrepute. Yes ; 
 such persons are very far indeed from giving to the 
 world a fair pattern of Christianity. Either they are 
 not Epistles of Christ to any further extent than as 
 having the mere title thereof, or if they do bear the 
 traces of His handwriting, it is in a manner so dim 
 and indistinct, — the pages are so torn and stained — 
 so much has been erased, and so much has been in- 
 
Chrisfs Living Epistles. 233 
 
 terpolated, — that It is not easy, even for a critical 
 eye, to find in them any clear tokens of their Divine 
 Authorship. 
 
 And yet, my dear Friends, the character, which the 
 text describes, is virtually claimed by all professed 
 believers. It is virtually claimed hy yoic whom I am 
 now addressing. By calling yourselves believers in 
 Christianity, — observing its forms, assenting to its 
 truths, receiving its sacraments, — you are to be con- 
 sidered as taking to yourselves the title and super- 
 scription of the Lord's Epistles, — publishing your- 
 selves as expositions of His doctrine, — inviting all 
 men to look at you, and learn of you the character, 
 claims, and practical tendency of the Gospel of Christ. 
 
 Such is your professsion. What, then, is the re- 
 sult, if your practice be widely and wilfully at vari- 
 ance with it ? If your lives be such as would tend 
 to persuade men that there is no material differ- 
 ence between the children of God and the children of 
 this world, — that Christians are just as carnal, and 
 worldly, and proud, and self-seeking, and frivolous, 
 and uncharitable, as others who make no pretensions 
 to the Christian name, — what are you doing but fal- 
 sifying the doctrine of Christ, giving to the world an 
 unfair representation of it, exposing it to undeserved 
 calumny and reproach ? Yes ; you are chargeable 
 with guilt the same in kind with that which would 
 attach to a minister of the Gospel did he handle the 
 Word of the Lord deceitfully, suppressing or corrupt- 
 ing its most essential truths and precepts. 
 
 We hope and trust, however, that instead of falsi- 
 fying or bringing reproach upon the doctrine of the 
 Gospel, it will be your study in all things to adorn it. 
 
234 Chris fs Living Epistles. 
 
 Remember, I beseech you, that a consistent life In all 
 professed believers, is one great means ordained of 
 God, for furthering the interests of religion in the 
 world. The preaching of the Gospel is, indeed, 
 honoured to do much ; but it is not intended to do 
 all. You must hold forth the word of life by your 
 i)ractice, just as we hold it forth by our preaching. 
 Look at the text again. See what a high calling, 
 what a glorious designation it assigns to you ! Oh, 
 how should the very thought of it fire your souls 
 with a generous ambition to be holy in all manner 
 of conversation ! You are the Epistles of Christ, — 
 in other words, you are His living Bibles ! Indeed, 
 you are the only Bibles, which many of your fellow- 
 men will ever be at the pains to look at. They cast 
 aside, perhaps, the Volume of inspired truth. But 
 they read yoit very carefully and critically, and judge 
 of Christianity by what they can see in you. Be it 
 your care, then, to give them just ideas and favour- 
 able impressions of the faith which you profess. En- 
 deavour to live down the prejudices of the ignorant, 
 the reproaches of the profane, and the cavils of the 
 unbelieving. Mere talking, and preaching, and pro- 
 fessing will be of little avail. But the mute eloquence 
 of a godly life is seldom ineffective ; the quiet influence 
 of a " living Epistle" is seldom lost. And it may be 
 hoped that many may, without the word, be won to 
 Christ by your holy conversation, and taught, by see- 
 ing your good works, to glorify your Father who is 
 in heaven. 
 
 I doubt not. Brethren, that some of you are deeply 
 humbled at the thought of many shortcomings and 
 imperfections, which render you most unworthy in 
 
Chris fs Living Epistles. 235 
 
 your own eyes of so high a title as that which the 
 text assigns to you. It is well that you be so. It is 
 a token for good, if your shortcomings be acknow- 
 ledged and deplored, and if you so feel your defici- 
 encies, as humbly and earnestly to long for the re- 
 moval of them. But be of good cheer. He who 
 hath begun in you a work of grace will perform it to 
 the uttermost. Look to Him more steadily; learn 
 of Him more diligently. Be ever bringing your 
 hearts to Him in faith and prayer, that something 
 more of His grace and truth may be inscribed upon 
 them. Be ever examining the contents of His 
 Epistle, as written in the tablet of your heart, in 
 order to find out how far it conveys a faithful delinea- 
 tion of the mind of Christ. When you find a blot 
 on it, entreat Him to erase it ; and whatever may be 
 indistinctly written, beseech Him to trace it over and 
 over again, until it appear in characters more worthy 
 of Him, and more fitted to impress the minds of all 
 who read it with the manifold wisdom and excellency 
 of its blessed Author. Be sure of this, that the more 
 closely you walk with Him, so much the more full 
 and striking will be your resemblance to Him. For 
 it is written that " we all, with open face, beholding 
 as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into 
 the same image, from glory to glory, even as by the 
 Spirit of the Lord;" and "we know that when He 
 shall appear, we shall be like Him ; for we shall see 
 Him as He is." 
 
236 
 
 XIII. 
 
 PAUL'S OBTAINING MERCY THE PATTERN OF 
 CHRIST'S LONG-SUFFERING. 
 
 " Howbeit for this cause I obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might 
 show forth all long-suffering, for a pattern to them which should hereafter 
 believe on Him to life everlasting." — i Timothy, i. 16. 
 
 There is one word here that needs to be explained, 
 in order to bring out the force of this statement of St 
 Paul. It is the word ''firsts In this passage it sig- 
 nifies not a precedence in time, but a p^^e-eviinence in 
 rank or order. In the original it is the very same 
 expression which the Apostle uses in the previous 
 verse, when calling himself the " chief of sinners. 
 He had been magnifying the grace of God so strik- 
 ingly displayed in his conversion and Apostleship, 
 and in doing so was naturally led to advance the 
 general doctrine of salvation through the Redeemer, 
 as the only ground that could satisfactorily explain 
 how such a sinner as himself should have found 
 mercy. Then, again, he refers to his own case, as 
 furnishing a most notable example, by which this gen- 
 eral doctrine of salvation may be very signally illus- 
 trated and confirmed. " This is a faithful saying," 
 he remarks, " and worthy of all acceptation, that 
 Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners ; of 
 whom I am chief. Howbeit," he adds, " for this cause 
 
Paul's obtaining Mercy, &c. 237 
 
 I obtained mercy, that in me first," or chief of sin- 
 ners as I ant, " Jesus Christ might show forth all long- 
 suffering, for a pattern to them which should hereafter 
 believe on Him to life everlasting." 
 
 The force of this statement, you will at once see, 
 is mainly dependent on the prominent position among 
 sinners which St Paul assumes. It is just because 
 he was the foremost, or the chief of sinners, standing 
 in the front rank of obstinate and hardened offenders, 
 and of all others seemingly the least likely to obtain 
 mercy, that the grace which he received, affords so 
 striking an exhibition of the Saviour's long-suffering, 
 and at the same time gives so mighty an encourage- 
 ment to all men, however aggravated their guilt may 
 be, to put their trust in the same all-merciful Saviour. 
 
 In reading these words, we can hardly fail to wonder 
 at the singular humility and disinterestedness of him 
 who wrote them. We cannot but be amazed to find 
 this distinguished man, so eminent as a Saint, and so 
 devoted as an Apostle, embracing every opportunity 
 that occurred, — even when his course was wellnigh 
 finished, and the crown of glory was almost within 
 his grasp, — of meekly reverting to his former uncon- 
 verted state, humbling himself that Christ might be 
 exalted, and fully exposing the manifold aggravations 
 by which his hostility to the Gospel had been char- 
 acterised, — in order that the matchless grace of the 
 Redeemer, in plucking such a brand from the burn- 
 ing, might be magnified and honoured to the utter- 
 most. How well in this does he verify his own de- 
 claration : " God forbid that I should glory, save in 
 the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, whereby the 
 world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world"! 
 
238 Paiirs obtaining Mercy 
 
 But, if in this respect we marvel at the Apostle, 
 much more have we cause to marvel at the Apostle's 
 Lord. Truly we may say, that " His ways are not 
 as man's ways." It is not the usual manner of an 
 earthly government to single out the greatest crimi- 
 nals as special objects of mercy and forbearance. 
 They, on the contrary, are usually excepted in all acts 
 of grace done to those that have been less guilty. It 
 is thought necessary, that the leaders or instigators 
 of rebellion should at all events be visited with pun- 
 ishment, however mercifully their followers may be 
 dealt with. But here, you perceive, the method ob- 
 served by the King of kings is altogether different. 
 He singles out the " chief of sinners',' and makes him 
 a special monument of His grace. The very ring- 
 leader of rebels is laid hold of, not to be punished, 
 but to be pardoned and reclaimed ; and that, too, for 
 the purpose of exhibiting to all transgressors an en- 
 couraging pattern of that free mercy, in which the 
 Gospel invites them to place their confidence. 
 
 We do not require to ask what there had been in 
 Paul's conduct to justify that description of it which 
 he here gives, when he says of himself, " howbeit I 
 obtained mercy ; " as if there were in his case circum- 
 stances so peculiar as to make it, humanly speaking, 
 more difficult or improbable that mercy should be 
 extended to hitn than other men. No one who is 
 at all acquainted with the Apostle's history, previous 
 to the time of his conversion, can be at any loss to 
 understand why he expressly calls himself " the chief 
 of sinners," — as if he had been of all offenders the most 
 criminal. It is quite true, that from many gross sins 
 he was even then entirely free. He was not unjust 
 
a Pattern of Chris fs Long-suffering. 239 
 
 or dishonest, or profligate, or intemperate, or selfish, 
 or ungodly ; on the contrary, he was remarkable for 
 his attention to all the outward proprieties and ob- 
 servances of a religious life, — so much so, that he 
 seemed in his own judgment, as well as in that of 
 society around him, to be, " as touching the righteous- 
 ness of the law, blameless'' And yet, with all this, 
 as he tells us here, he truly was a " chief of sinners," 
 — a very leader of the enemies of the Lord, — stand- 
 ing in the front rank of those that hated and opposed 
 Him, He was a vainglorious Pharisee, steeped in 
 formalism, and puffed up with spiritual pride, — one 
 of that class of whom the Saviour hath declared, that 
 they are of all others the most adverse to the humbling 
 and self-denying truths of Christianity, insomuch that 
 the very publicans and the harlots entered into the 
 kingfdom of God before them. He was a self- 
 blinded and bigoted unbeliever, — hating the Gospel 
 because it was opposed to the prejudices of his mind 
 and the self-righteousness of his heart, — and obsti- 
 nately refusing to attend to those evidences which 
 might else have brought full conviction to his mind. 
 He was a "blasphemer," as he tells us in the context, 
 — applying habitually the most scandalous and re- 
 proachful language to the Son of God, — striving, by 
 the most abusive epithets he could think of, to vilify 
 the Gospel, and all who put their trust in it, — and not 
 content with doing so himself, but compelling the 
 followers of Jesus to blaspheme Him also. He was 
 a '' perseaitor" and " injurious^' or a doer of outrage, 
 driven by his unhallowed zeal to acts of savage cruelty 
 and oppression. The earliest glimpse we get of him 
 in history is on the occasion of the first Christian 
 
240 Pattrs obtaining Me7'cy 
 
 martyrdom, — when "a young man, whose name was 
 Saul," appears standing by, consenting to the martyr's 
 death, and taking charge of the clothes of them that 
 slew him, so as to enable them, stripped of their 
 outer raiment, to prosecute with greater energy their 
 murderous work. Having thus, as we may say, tasted 
 of Christian blood, he seems to have thenceforward 
 thirsted for more and more of it. He willingly 
 gave his services to the enemies of the Christian 
 cause, as a minister of wrath against all who might 
 adhere to it ; and, armed with the necessary authority 
 from the Jewish Sanhedrim, he showed the most un- 
 sparing fierceness in its exercise. He made havoc of 
 the Church, — entering into every house in which the 
 victims of his fury might have taken refuge, and 
 without regard to sex or age, dragging them away to 
 prison and to judgment. Nor was he content with 
 thus oppressing them in Jerusalem, but he pursued 
 them even to distant cities. Justly may he be de- 
 scribed in his own emphatic words, as having been 
 " exceeding mad against " the Lord's disciples, — or, in 
 the still more forcible language of the narrative of the 
 Acts, as '' breatJiiiig out threatenings and slaughter'' 
 against the Christians, — like some furious wild beast 
 panting after its prey. Such having been his charac- 
 ter and conduct previous to the time of his conversion, 
 we cannot wonder at the position which he assumes, 
 or at the light in which he regards himself in the text. 
 Without exaggeration might he rank himself among 
 the " chief of sinners." And with peculiar propriety 
 might he speak of the " mercy " which had notwith- 
 standing been conferred on him, as a most striking 
 and unlooked-for instance of the grace of Heaven. 
 
a Pattern of Chrisfs Long-sttffering. 24 1 
 
 The justice of such a representation will be more ap- 
 parent if we take into account the time and manner of 
 his conversio7i. Never was man so unlikely to obtain 
 mercy, nor so far from either seeking or expecting it, 
 as Saul of Tarsus at that very time, when mercy was 
 so remarkably extended to him. See him hastening 
 on his journey to Damascus, — exulting in the com- 
 mission with which he had been intrusted, to seize 
 and bind the disciples in that city, and burning with 
 more than his wonted bigotry and fury against the 
 Christian cause. Who could have thought that at 
 such a time as this the Lord would have graciously 
 interposed in his behalf? Yet so it was. In the 
 very height of his wild and furious enmity he was 
 arrested. The towers of Damascus were already 
 within his view, and his helpless victims were almost 
 within his grasp, when Jesus Himself appeared to him 
 in the way, and, by a tender and affectionate remon- 
 strance, accompanied with the power of heavenly 
 grace, subdued his enmity, humbled his pride, softened 
 his hard heart, and brought him to repentance. These 
 were the circumstances in which he was converted. 
 And certainly nothing could be well imagined more 
 unpromising. So far, indeed, as man's judgment 
 could have determined, we may truly say that there 
 was no period of Saul's life at which his conversion 
 seemed to be more improbable than that very period 
 at which it was accomplished. And when we think 
 of the spirit he was exhibiting, the work he was 
 engaged In, and the purpose he had in view, at the 
 time when that gracious Lord, whom he had per- 
 secuted, was pleased so signally to interpose in his 
 behalf, — we see a peculiar force In his expression, 
 
 Q 
 
242 Paitrs obtaining Mercy 
 
 when he says of himself, " howbeit I obtained 
 mercy/' 
 
 But we must also take into account the mighty 
 results that followed his conversion^ — we must think of 
 the bright Christian virtues and attainments by which 
 he came to be distinguished, of the zealous and de- 
 voted labours which he performed, and of the highly 
 exalted position of honour and influence in the 
 Churches which he occupied, — in order to form an 
 adequate conception of the boundless extent of Divine 
 mercy that was shown to him. It would have been 
 a marvellous exercise of redeeming: love had such a 
 malignant enemy of the Cross of Christ been simply 
 reclaimed from his hostility to the truth, and saved 
 from the merited consequences of his wickedness, — 
 although he had ever afterwards been left to occupy 
 the humblest position among Christ's disciples, as one 
 that was scarcely fit to be associated with them. But 
 that the persecutor should be turned into the Apostle, 
 — that the " chief of sinners " should be ranked among 
 the " very chiefest " of saints, — that the most inveter- 
 ate adversary of the Christian cause should thencefor- 
 ward become its most ardent and devoted champion, 
 — that he who had been an object of terror to the 
 faithful, by reason of the violence and fury of his 
 rage against them, should in all future ages be an 
 object of veneration, as, of all the early propagators 
 of the Gospel, beyond comparison the most active 
 and the most successful, — this truly displays an in- 
 comparable fulness, and an all-prevailing efficacy of the 
 grace of God, which no man can seriously reflect upon 
 without amazement. Justly might Paul himself say 
 of it in the context, that the " grace of our Lord," as 
 
a Pattern of Chris fs Long-suffering. 243 
 
 thus manifested, had been " exceeding abundant T Nor 
 can we wonder that it left upon his mind, — as it ought 
 to leave on all minds that soberly contemplate it, — a 
 peculiarly deep and lasting impression of the height, 
 and depth, and length, and breadth, of that love of 
 Christ which passeth knowledge. 
 
 The main point to be noticed in the text, however, 
 is ike graciotcs purpose which t\\& Saviour had in view, 
 in so remarkable an exercise of His mercy. It was, 
 as Paul declares, that in him, the chief of sinners^ 
 fesus Christ might shoiv forth all long-suffering, for 
 a pattern to those who should hereafter believe on Him. 
 His object was thereby to exhibit to all sinners an 
 actual specimen of the greatness of His mercy. He 
 wished us to have an opportunity of judging of Him, 
 not merely from His statements and His promises, 
 but from His dealings with a conspicuous and declared 
 enemy, knowing, that such a striking fact as the text 
 refers to would make a much stronger impression 
 upon every mind regarding " the riches of His 
 goodness and forbearance " than a thousand general 
 assurances of mercy, however distinctly and solemnly 
 expressed. It is quite proverbial, that example is the 
 best instructor. Facts are more striking than words. 
 They more forcibly awaken the attention, impress the 
 memory, and touch the affections. They often exert 
 a powerful influence on the mind, where general 
 statements would be comparatively ineffectual. And, 
 in particular, when judging of a person's character, 
 there is nothing that gives us so lively a conception, 
 or so satisfactory a persuasion of it, as his actual con- 
 duct. It is on this principle that the Lord has often 
 
244 Paitrs obtaining Mercy 
 
 proceeded, in making known to us the perfections 
 that distinguish Him. He teaches us what He is, 
 by showing us what He does. By signal judgments 
 inflicted on the ungodly, He exhibits, from time to 
 time, the truth of His threatenings, and vindicates the 
 claims of His justice, while, by unexampled forbear- 
 ance to those who have obstinately trampled on His 
 mercy. He manifests the riches of His grace and 
 shows forth the whole extent of His Lono--sufferina-, 
 In the case of Paul it was, as the text affirms, " all 
 long-sufferhig^^ that the Lord Jesus designed to show 
 forth. You know what is meant by " loiig-siiffering" 
 on His part. It is one of the most adorable of His per- 
 fections. It comprehends that slowness to anger, — that 
 unwillingness to punish, — that readiness to pardon, — 
 that long forbearance under outrage and provocation, 
 — that patient waiting for the first symptoms of re- 
 pentance, — that willingness to receive and welcome 
 the returning sinner, — which our Saviour-God has 
 so manifestly claimed for Himself in the Scriptures, 
 and has so frequently displayed in His dealings with 
 our fallen race. Nothing can be more clear and 
 forcible than the statements in which these generous 
 qualities are ascribed to Him, And if actual proofs 
 were asked of His possessing them, many such might 
 be easily adduced from the personal history and ex- 
 perience of sinful men. But we may safely affirm, that 
 in no instance that was ever heard of, do we find a 
 more full and striking exhibition of them than in the 
 memorable case of St Paul. In his* case it may be 
 emphatically said that all long-suffering on the part 
 of the Lord Jesus Christ was shown forth, in the full 
 extent and variety of its operations. Long did the 
 
a Pattern of Chris fs Long-suffering. 245 
 
 Saviour bear with him, — much did He endure from 
 him, — without any sensible tokens of displeasure. 
 How provoking must have been the pride, and un- 
 belief, and malice of this Pharisee, when cloaked 
 beneath a form of godliness ! How odious must have 
 been his offerings and prayers, proceeding from a 
 heart at enmity with God and His Christ ! How 
 loudly did his blasphemous reproaches and his perse- 
 cuting spirit cry out for vengeance upon Him ! And 
 yet, all the while, the vengeance was withheld. Are 
 we not ready to wonder that the Lord should have 
 permitted this infuriated bigot to revile His name, 
 and oppose His cause, and make havoc of His people, 
 without interfering to punish and restrain him ? What 
 could it be but " all long-suffering " that stayed so 
 long the infliction of deserved wrath ? And when, 
 at length, the Lord Himself appeared to arrest him 
 in his course, was it that His forbearance had been 
 exhausted, and that His anger could no longer 
 be restrained ? Nay, rather, it was in order that 
 " long-suffering " might be exchanged for pardoning 
 " mercy," and give way to softening and converting 
 grace. No rod of anger is visible in the Saviour's 
 hands, — no words of terror proceed out of His lips, — 
 He speaks in earnest and affectionate remonstrance : 
 " Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me ?" It is as if 
 He had said, ' What cause have I given thee for all 
 thy fierce enmity against me ? — for inasmuch as 
 thou hast done it unto the least of these my brethren, 
 thou hast done it unto nie. For them I kept every 
 precept of the law, — yea, laid down my life to free 
 them from its curse ; and therefore they follow me 
 and shall never perish, neither shall any pluck them 
 
246 Pmtrs obtamiiig Mercy 
 
 out of my hand. So it may be with thee if thou 
 wilt own me as the loving Saviour of sinners — of 
 whom thou art chief.' You know with what effect 
 this remonstrance was attended. The heart of the 
 hardened persecutor was softened ; the Pharisee was 
 humbled ; the enemy was subdued ; the ravening 
 wolf was turned into a lamb. And no sooner did 
 the blasphemer and persecutor acknowledge his guilt, 
 and earnestly pray to heaven for forgiveness, than 
 all his past sins were freely blotted out, and grace 
 so " exceeding abundant " was conferred on him, 
 as made him thereafter one of the brightest orna- 
 ments, and one of the most distinguished Apostles 
 of that Church of Christ which he had laboured 
 to overthrow. There was something- more than 
 " long-suffering" displayed towards him, unless we 
 take the word in a wider sense than is usual. The 
 Lord not only bore with him, \)\x\. forgave him, — not 
 only waited to be gracious to him, but went to 
 seek and save him while yet in his sins, — not 
 only stayed the infliction of His anger, but visited 
 him with the tokens of His love. How glorious a 
 manifestation was thus given of the matchless grace 
 and mercy of the Saviour ! If it was wonderful that 
 such a " chief of sinners" should have been tolerated 
 in the midst of his fury and provocations, how much 
 more wonderful that he should have been freely par- 
 doned ; — and not only so, but honoured and distin- 
 guished, — employed as a chosen vessel of the Lord 
 to bear His name abroad among the Gentiles, — 
 raised to the most honourable services on earth, — 
 and destined to one of the most exalted places in 
 heaven ! Truly may we say of him, that " where sin 
 
a Pattern of Chrisfs Long-suffering. 247 
 
 abounded, grace did much more abound." Not only 
 was " all long-suffering" displayed in him, but all the 
 unsearchable riches of a love which no finite mind is 
 able to comprehend. 
 
 But observe, that it is not as a mere display of 
 marvellous grace to excite our admiration that this 
 case of Paul obtaining mercy is proposed to us, but 
 as " « pattern to them which should hereafter believed 
 It is not to be viewed as a singular instance, to which 
 no parallel need ever be expected, and from which, 
 under ordinary circumstances, no manner of comfort 
 or encouragement can be drawn, but rather as a speci- 
 men, to sinners in every age, of that which the Saviour 
 can and will accomplish in behalf of all such as put 
 their trust in Him. 
 
 In some respects, it must indeed be owned that St 
 Paul's conversion stands alone, and cannot be fairly 
 looked to as a precedent. It took place suddenly y 
 without those preparatory steps which, in the case of 
 other men, are ordinarily conducive to it. And there 
 were means employed for its accomplishment, such as 
 the light from heaven and the audible voice, which 
 are not in ordinary instances to be looked for. Lay- 
 ing aside these specialities, however, which, so far 
 from lessening, tend rather to increase the force of 
 that demonstration which it gives us of the grace of 
 Heaven, we are warranted to say, that the salvation 
 of this "chief of sinners" affords an encouraging 
 example to all, in every age, who are willing, like him, 
 to flee for refuge, to lay hold upon the hope set before 
 them in the Gospel. It is in this light that we are 
 taught to view it by the Apostle himself. He holds 
 it forth to us as a sample, or as an earnest, of the 
 
248 Pattrs obtaining Mercy 
 
 Saviour's dealings with such as should hereafter be- 
 lieve on Him. 
 
 In various points of view this character may be 
 assiofned to it. 
 
 We have in it, for example, a fair pattern of the 
 absolute free7iess and sovereignty of the grace of God. 
 It is the general doctrine of the Scriptures, that the 
 grace of God is the prime mover in man's salvation. 
 It is not we that love and choose Him ; but it is He 
 who first loves and chooses us. He seeks as well as 
 saves us. He makes us a willing people ; He draws 
 us, that we may run after Him. He convinces us of 
 sin ; He brings us to repentance ; He opens our 
 hearts for the reception of the truth. I speak not here 
 of the high mystery of His decrees^ by which His 
 people were chosen from eternity. Whether a man 
 believes this mystery or no, he must undermine the 
 whole system of Christianity before he can deny that 
 " all things are of God'' — and that sinners are led to 
 the reception of His offered mercy, not by any inherent 
 qualities or dispositions which either entitle or incline 
 them to obtain it, but through Divine grace enlight- 
 ening and arousing them, and bringing them to that 
 Saviour who hath Himself said, " No man can come 
 unto tne, except the Father which hath sent me draw 
 himT Now, of this great truth there could not be 
 imagined a more complete and signal illustration than 
 that which is furnished by the instance in the text. If 
 ever man lived of whom it could be said, that there 
 was nothing inherent in himself to make him either a 
 worthy or a willing subject of the Saviou*r's mercy, 
 that man most assuredly was Saul of Tarsus. Had 
 any one told him, on his departure from Jerusalem, 
 
a Pattern of Chris fs Long-suffering. 249 
 
 that before the object of his mission could be accom- 
 plished he should have become a penitent and devoted 
 servant of that despised Nazarene whose followers 
 he was persecuting, he would doubtless have scorned 
 or derided the very thought. Yet so it came to pass. 
 This sinner was arrested in the very height of his 
 enmity and rebellion. The Saviour came to him 
 and drew him to Himself, when, so far from either 
 expecting or desiring mercy, he was hardening his 
 heart in bitter opposition to that Gospel whereby 
 alone it can be found. Surely we have here a notable 
 example of the sovereign freeness of Divine grace in 
 saving sinners. Well does it illustrate that statement 
 of the Apostle : " By grace are ye saved through faith; 
 and that not of yotir selves : it is the gift of God." 
 Learn, then, from this instance to be humble. What- 
 ever may now be your excellences and attainments, 
 remember who it is to whom you are indebted for 
 them, and be ever ready to say with the Apostle, 
 " We were by nature the children of wrath, even as 
 others ; " " howbeit we obtained mercy," — and, " by 
 the grace of God " we are what we are. 
 
 Again, we have in the conversion of the Apostle 
 Paul a pattern of the power and efficacy of the Sav- 
 iour's grace. We see what great things it is able to 
 accomplish. We see that there is no exaggeration 
 in speaking of it as, — opening the blinded eyes of the 
 understanding, — turning the heart of stone into a 
 heart of flesh, — quickening the souls that are dead in 
 trespasses and sins, — and making us altogether " new 
 creatures." Never was a mind more bigoted against 
 the truth than that of Paul. Never was a heart more 
 adverse to its humbling, mortifying, sanctifying influ- 
 
250 Paurs obtaining Mercy 
 
 ences. And yet this darkened mind was enlightened, 
 — this obdurate heart was softened and subdued. 
 Who, after this, has reason to suppose that any 
 extent of prejudice or of depravity is too great for 
 the power of the Gospel to overcome ? Let no one 
 despair of the conversion of a fellow-creature, how- 
 ever obstinate his unbelief may seem to be. Perhaps 
 your heart may be grievously cast down when you 
 think of a brother, a parent, or a child, who may be 
 living in a state of absolute indifference, or even of 
 open enmity to religion. But look at the ** pattern " 
 exhibited in the text, and let it teach you to despair 
 no longer of any such one. Bring theit case in fervent 
 prayer before the Lord. Use every fitting means 
 that you can think of for turning their minds to the 
 things which concern their peace. And doubt not, 
 that however unpromising their state may be, it is 
 not beyond the reach of that Redeemer who bestowed 
 mercy on a Saul of Tarsus. But this is not all in 
 this connection. The efficacy of the Saviour's grace 
 appears in this remarkable instance, not merely in 
 turning the hardened sinner from his wickedness, but 
 in making him ever after a distinguished saint, and 
 not a whit behind the very chiefest Apostles. His case 
 is sicbstantially a. " pattern" to us of that holiness, that 
 devotedness to the Lord, that earnest zeal for the 
 prevalence of the truth, by which all who are truly 
 converted must be distinguished. Divine grace, once 
 received, never leaves tis as it finds us. And if we 
 profess to have experienced its influence, we must 
 prove our sincerity by exhibiting its practical results. 
 We must in our turn be patterns, like the Apostle, 
 
a Pattern of Chris fs Long-suffermg. 251 
 
 of all that the power of Divine grace is able to 
 accomplish. 
 
 There is one other point of view not to be over- 
 looked, in which the mercy shown to the Apostle Paul 
 may be justly viewed as bearing the character which 
 the text assigns to it ; and that is, when we regard it 
 as illustrative of the willingness of the Lord to receive 
 sinners when they come to Him, freely forgiving 
 their iniquities, however great, and fully bestowing on 
 them all the blessings of His great salvation. 
 
 We are told in Scripture that " the blood of Jesus 
 cleanseth from all sin," — that " He is able to save 
 unto the uttermost all who come unto God by Him," 
 — that " whosoever cometh unto Him shall in no wise 
 be cast out," — that God, for His sake, " will wait that 
 He may be gracious " to us, — pardoning iniquity, pass- 
 ing by transgression, casting all our sins into the depths 
 of the sea. These, and suchlike precious declarations, 
 are every way fitted to revive the drooping heart, and 
 to inspire with confidence the penitent and contrite 
 spirit. It often happens, however, that the sinner, 
 when brought to a deep conviction of his guilt, will take 
 no comfort from even the most gracious and most en- 
 couraging assurances of the Word of God. He thinks 
 that they are either too good to be believed, or, at 
 least, that they are too full of mercy and loving- 
 kindness to be really meant for such a base sinner, as, 
 in the depth of his penitence, he feels himself to be. 
 Now, what can be so well calculated, in these circum- 
 stances, to dispel his fears and revive his confidence, 
 as Xh^ pattern of mercy held forth to him in the text ? 
 By it he may behold, not only what the Lord has 
 
252 PaiiVs obtaining Mercy 
 
 promised^ but what He has actually done to a trans- 
 gressor, whose sins against Him were incomparably 
 more flagrant than those of the vilest and most crim- 
 inal among us all. Look at this pattern, and say, if 
 there be any man whose guilt is too great for a 
 merciful God to pardon, or too black for a Saviour's 
 atoning blood to wash away ! Surely, if Sa7il of 
 Tarsus obtained mercy, no humbled sinner has reason 
 to despond. If he who had wrought such havoc in 
 the Churches, and uttered such blasphemies, and 
 perpetrated such cruelties, and cherished such bitter 
 enmity against the truth, as led him ever after to call 
 himself "chief of sinners," — if even he was graci- 
 ously accepted, so soon as he humbly cast himself at 
 the Saviour's feet, — surely we may venture to say, 
 with all confidence, to the most inveterate transgres- 
 sors we may meet with, " Come to this Saviour, and 
 you also shall be forgiven." No matter what may be 
 the number of your sins — no matter what may be the 
 depth of your depravity — no matter how long or how 
 obstinately you may have scorned and put away from 
 you the offered mercy, — that mercy is still in store 
 for you, if you will but seek it. And if you should 
 perish, with such grace within your reach, it will not 
 be because the magnitude of your sins exceeded the 
 power of the Saviour to atone for them, or made Him 
 unwilling to use it in your behalf, — but because your 
 own '^ evil heaj't of unbelief " withheld you from coming 
 to the Saviour that you might have life. A thousand 
 witnesses will rise up against you, in the persons of sin- 
 ners, once as guilty as yourselves, testifying that they 
 found forgiveness with the Lord, and that you, had 
 you taken the same course, might have found it also ! 
 
a Pattern of Christ's Long-sttffering. 253 
 
 And, foremost of them all, will stand forth Satil of 
 Tarsus, and, — recalling his hatred of Christ, and his 
 obduracy of heart in days when his hand was stained 
 with martyr-blood, — he will bear his testimony to 
 the grace which he received, and of which yott also, 
 were called to be partakers, — saying : " I was a blas- 
 phemer and a persecutor, and injurious : howbeit I 
 obtained mercy, that in me first Jesus Christ might 
 show forth all long-suffering, for a pattern to them 
 who should hereafter believe on Him." 
 
 It is quite possible, however, that some may be 
 disposed to wrest this " pattern " of Divine mercy to 
 their own destruction. They may reason within their 
 hearts that if Paul was so long borne with, in the 
 midst of his aggravated sins and provocations, and 
 yet was at last converted and forgiven, they may 
 continue in their sins, in the hope that God will still 
 bear with them from day to day, and, ere it be too 
 late, will bring them to repentance. Such reasoning, 
 however, is alike impious and fallacious. 
 
 The case of Paul lends no countenance to any 
 such perversion of the grace of Christ. Of whatever 
 else it may be a patter^t, it is certainly no pattejm of 
 this. Paul did not continue to persecute the Christian 
 cause in the hope of eventually desisting from his 
 enmity, so as to obtain forgiveness of the Lord. 
 Had any one told him that he should one day become 
 a Christian, he would have denied it, with scorn and 
 indignation. His guilt lay, not in violating the dic- 
 tates of conscience, but in keeping his conscience 
 blinded and misinformed ; and inexcusable though 
 he was, when he did so " many things contrary to the 
 
254 Pauls obtainhig Mercy, &c. 
 
 name of Jesus of Nazareth," he " verily thought with 
 himself that he ought " to do them. No sinner can 
 say that t/izs is the case with him, when he wilfully 
 takes encouragement from the Divine forbearance to 
 persevere in the practice of his sins. He cannot say 
 that he verily thinks that what he is doing is only 
 what he ought to do. Should he attempt to do so, 
 his very intention of ultimate repentance would at 
 once expose his self-delusion. Let no man then 
 take encouragement from Paul's conversion to " con- 
 tinue in sin, that grace may abound." It lends no 
 encouragement to any such presumption. Rather 
 should it induce all sinners, without delay, to flee for 
 grace and mercy to that Redeemer, who, if they now 
 come, will in no wise cast them out — to cease longer 
 to despise the riches of His goodness, and forbear- 
 ance, and long-suffering, and to let the goodness of 
 God lead them, even now, to repentance ! 
 
255 
 
 XIV. 
 
 MARTHA AND MARY. 
 
 ■And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful 
 and troubled about many things : but one thing is needful : and Mary hath 
 chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her." — Luke, 
 X. 41, 42. 
 
 You are all, I doubt not, familiar with the occasion 
 on which these words were spoken by our Lord. 
 While He " went about," in His usual manner, " doing 
 good," attended by the twelve, who were now His 
 constant followers, "He entered into a certain villaofe : 
 and a certain woman named Martha received Him 
 into her house." This village, as we learn from other 
 passages of the Sacred History, was Bethany, a small 
 retired place, lying in a ravine at the back of the 
 Mount of Olives, within two miles of the city of 
 Jerusalem. The house was that of Lazarus and his 
 two sisters ; and it is here called Martha's, probably 
 because, as being the eldest, she was intrusted with 
 the care of it, or because, as some have supposed, she 
 was a widow, who had taken her brother and sister 
 to reside with her. Certain it is, that this little family 
 enjoyed the peculiar friendship of the Son of God. 
 It is said of them, very emphatically, by an Evan- 
 gelist, that " Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and 
 
256 Martha and Mary. 
 
 Lazarus." And from some incidental expressions in 
 the sacred narrative, it would seem, that He was 
 accustomed to reside with them during His occasional 
 visits to Jerusalem, going out to Bethany in the 
 evenings, and returning again to the city in the morn- 
 ings. In the quiet circle of these familiar friends, we 
 may well suppose Him to have found a grateful 
 relief from the toils, and cares, and trials, of His 
 public ministry. Even in such brief intervals of 
 retirement, however, He was never forgetful of the 
 ofreat and sfracious end of His mission into the world. 
 Truly might He speak of it as His " meat and drink 
 to do the work " which His Father had committed to 
 Him. Wherever He went, however He was circum- 
 stanced, and whatever He did, He was always bent on 
 " doinof orood." While sittino- in the house or walk- 
 ing by the way, as well as when preaching in the 
 temple or the synagogue. He was eager to impart 
 His lessons of Divine wisdom. He had always a 
 word in season to speak, suggested by the scenes that 
 were passing before His eyes, and suited to the cases 
 and characters of those who heard Him. And with 
 such easy, artless simplicity did He address them, 
 that His doctrine might be appropriately said to 
 " drop as the rain and distil as the dew." 
 
 Of this we have an example in the case before us. 
 Jesus had no sooner come into the house than we find 
 Him eng-ag-ed in communicating; instruction to the 
 little circle around Him. For them He spread at 
 once a far better repast than any which His hospit- 
 able friends could provide for Him, giving them, for 
 their spiritual nourishment, the bread of life, — and 
 discoursing to them, in a kindly and familiar manner, 
 
Martha and Mary. 257 
 
 concerning the things that belonged unto their peace. 
 Mary, while He thus spake, was wrapped in deep 
 attention. So wholly was she engrossed with what 
 He said, that all other concerns seem to have been 
 forgotten by her. She sat at His feet, in a humble 
 and devout posture, catching every word that fell 
 from His lips, and carefully laying it up in her heart, 
 with a view to her spiritual comfort and improvement. 
 Martha, however, was dijfferently employed. We 
 cannot doubt that she also would have been gratified 
 by listening in mute attention to the Saviour's lessons ; 
 but domestic cares were pressing hard upon her. She 
 felt a needless anxiety for the comfort of those beloved 
 and honoured guests who had favoured her humble 
 dwelling with their presence. Their visit on this occa- 
 sion seems to have been unexpected ; and hence she 
 was not a little harassed and perplexed in making a 
 suitable provision fortheir entertainment. We are told 
 that she " was cumbered abotit much se^^vingy And 
 such was the load of carefulness that weighed upon 
 her, that it not only deprived her of the benefit she 
 might have obtained from the teaching of her blessed 
 Master, but even ruffled the calmness of her temper, 
 and made her " speak unadvisedly with her lips." 
 She blamed her sister for lending her no help, in the 
 manifold occupations that engaged her. She thought 
 the anxiety of Mary to receive msXtwoXxon for her own 
 personal good unseasonable and unwarranted, when so 
 many household arrangements had to be made, in the 
 way of ministering to the great Teacher who was im- 
 parting it. And not content with fretting within her 
 own breast, she gave vent, in audible murmurs, to 
 her discontentment. She rudely broke in uf)on the 
 
 R 
 
258 Martha and Mary. 
 
 strain of the Lord's discourse, and sought to make 
 Him a party to her quarrel, and even insinuated some 
 reflection against Himself, for having hitherto per- 
 mitted that neglect of sisterly aid and sympathy 
 which she complained of " Lord," she said, " dost 
 Thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve 
 alone ? bid her therefore that she help me." 
 
 It was this expression of fretful and unkindly feel- 
 ing that drew forth the answer in the text. Jesus, 
 instead of interfering in the way required, to send 
 Mary from His presence, defended her from the 
 reproach that had been cast upon her, and solemnly 
 declared that she had " chosen that good part, which 
 should not be taken from her ; " and, least of all, by 
 Him. At the same time. He mildly reproved Martha 
 for her inordinate concern about many things which 
 she thought necessary for His due reception, — a con- 
 cern which, albeit dictated by the warmest love, was 
 really far less pleasing in His sight than would have 
 been the same engrossing interest as her sister took, 
 in the " one thing needful" for her own spiritual wel- 
 fare. " Martha, Martha," was His affectionate but 
 earnest remonstrance, " thou art careful and troubled 
 about many things : but one thing is needful : and 
 Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be 
 taken away from her." 
 
 In making a few further observations on these 
 words, I shall, in the first place, turn your attention 
 to the character and conduct of the two sisters as here 
 delineated ; and then I shall notice the instructions 
 that may be drawn from the judgment here given 
 respecting them by our Lord. 
 
Martha and Mary. 259 
 
 I. Fij^st, then, as to the character of the two sisters 
 — there can be no doubt that both of them were sin- 
 cere and warmly attached disciples of our Lord. It 
 is expressly stated by St John that "Jesus loved 
 Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus." The whole 
 family were alike the objects of His tender regard. 
 He honoured them with His friendship, — blessed 
 them with His society, — and was well-pleased to 
 make His abode within their dwellingf. And when 
 He came to raise Lazarus from the grave, He dis- 
 tinguished the two sisters, and Martha even more 
 than Mary, by the full and comforting assurances of 
 His power and grace. We must view both the 
 sisters, then, as His faithful and devoted followers. 
 Both of them looked to Him in faith as the Re- 
 deemer of Israel. Both of them acknowledged His 
 claims, — received His doctrine, — relied upon His 
 promises, — and, in the face of obloquy and persecu- 
 tion, were ready to confess His name, and willing to 
 bear His cross. 
 
 But, still, there were some particulars in which they 
 differed. Divine grace does not perfectly assimilate 
 the characters of those to whom it is imparted. It 
 sanctifies all our faculties and dispositions ; but it 
 does not alter the capacity of the former, nor wholly 
 reverse the qualities of the latter. As to the intel- 
 lect, sinners, when converted, still continue to mani- 
 fest those various shades and measures of mental 
 endowment which belong to them. They are dull 
 or acute, profound or shallow, judicious or injudicious, 
 sober or imaginative, just as they were before, — al- 
 though all their powers are now placed under the 
 control and used in subserviency to the interests of 
 
26o Martha and Mary. 
 
 pure religion. The same may be said of the consti- 
 tutional temper. Much of its natural complexion 
 may remain even when the grace of heaven has re- 
 newed it. The bold and the timid, the grave and the 
 lively, the quick and the sluggish, the sanguin>e and the 
 phlegmatic, differ no less in their converted than in 
 their natural state, although they be all alike subject 
 to the power of godliness. How striking are the 
 varieties observable between Paul and Peter, between 
 Thomas and John, evidently showing that the influ- 
 ences of religion did not, with all its sanctifying power, 
 confound those original features which distinguished 
 them. And it is just so in the case now before us. 
 There was a very perceptible difference between the 
 two persons referred to in the text, although they 
 • were both of them followers of Jesus, and " loved " 
 by Him. Mary seems to have been of a quiet and 
 reflective spirit, less disposed for activity than for 
 contemplation, with much intensity of feeling, quick- 
 ness of sentiment, and tenderness of affection, — 
 readily moved by any affecting experience or interest- 
 ing subject, however brought before her mind, and 
 apt, at such times, to regard all other matters with 
 indifference. Martha, on the other hand, appears to 
 have been marked by greater strength and vigour 
 of character, and to have been better fitted for engag- 
 ing in active duties, whether of domestic manage- 
 ment or of pious and benevolent exertion ; while, at 
 the same time, she fell behind her sister in the 
 warmth, and depth, and liveliness of her devout affec- 
 tions. Less remarkable for the fervour of her spirit 
 than for her practical diligence and prudence, and 
 naturally quick and active in her disposition, Martha 
 
Martha and Mary. 261 
 
 was ready for any good work in which her cheerful 
 services might be available ; and she seems to have 
 never been so much absorbed in any one subject as 
 not to be always ready to attend to whatever other 
 calls and interests pressed upon her. Indeed, her 
 failing lay on the opposite side, — in a tendency to 
 multiply the objects of her concern, until her mind 
 became " cumbered " or distracted by them. 
 
 These different features of their character are 
 developed not only in the passage before us, but in 
 the only two other passages in which we find them 
 specially referred to. 
 
 When mourning over the loss of their brother, 
 Martha no sooner heard of the Lord's approach 
 than she at once hastened to meet Him, saluted Him 
 with respect, and declared not only her confidence 
 that, had He arrived sooner, her brother's life would 
 have been saved, but her undiminished trust that He 
 was able even now to undo the sad calamity that had 
 befallen them. With all her grief, she was able to 
 collect her thoughts and to calm her feelings to an 
 extent sufficient for entering into converse with the 
 Lord, for seriously pondering the truths which He 
 declared, for frankly answering the questions He 
 proposed, and for making a formal profession of her 
 faith in Him as the Lord of life and the Saviour of 
 the world. Mary all the while remained at home, 
 overwhelmed with grief, and heedless of all that was 
 occurring around her. It was not until her sister 
 had returned with a message from Jesus Himself 
 that He desired to see her, that Mary was induced 
 to go forth to meet Him. And even then her feel- 
 ings overpowered her. " When she was come where 
 
262 Martha and Mary. 
 
 Jesus was, and saw Him, she fell down at His feet, 
 saying unto Him, Lord, if thou hadst been here, 
 my brother had not died." The same words had 
 been used by Martha when she met Jesus ; but Mary 
 is stunned by her great sorrow, and can find vent for 
 her deepest feelings only by her tears. 
 
 Here you may discover much the same difference 
 between the two sisters that is noticeable in the 
 passage before us. And you will observe, also, that 
 Martha's disposition gave her, in this instance, the 
 advantage over Mary ; just as in the former instance, 
 it had given Mary the advantage over her. She, who 
 had been the more eager and devout hearer, is now, 
 from the same peculiarity of temper, the more dis- 
 consolate and helpless mourner ; while she who had 
 been busily attending to household duties when 
 Jesus was discoursing, is able now to rise above 
 the pressure of domestic griefs when Jesus comes 
 to comfort and relieve. 
 
 There is only one other passage of the Sacred 
 Narrative in which the two sisters are brought under 
 our notice. It is contained, like the last, in the Gos- 
 pel of St John. Jesus, shortly before His death, was 
 sitting at meat with the same friends, in the same 
 village of Bethany. We are told of Martha that on 
 that occasion she " zvas serving" just as we might 
 have expected her to be doing from what we already 
 know of her active and busy habits. And Mary^ 
 seemingly quite at a loss in what way to testify the 
 ardour of her grateful affection, took an alabaster box 
 of very precious ointment, and, breaking the box, 
 poured the ointment on the Saviour's head. This 
 was just such a testimony of her love as we might 
 
Martha and Mary. 263 
 
 have looked for from one of her spirit, who, as we 
 have seen, was too much engrossed with the feelings 
 that immediately possessed her, to be either cautious 
 or calculating in her method of expressing them. 
 And, accordingly, when she was blamed for what she 
 had done, Jesus interposed to vindicate her conduct. 
 He knew that her action sprang from the best in- 
 tentions ; and therefore was willing to think the best 
 and make the most of it. '' Let her alone," He said, 
 " Why trouble ye the woman ? she hath wrought a 
 good work on Me. She hath done what she could : she 
 is come aforehand to anoint my body for its burial." 
 
 The consistency in the conduct and character of these 
 two sisters, as exhibited in the very different circum- 
 stances in which they are presented to us by St Luke 
 and St John, is very remarkable ; and coming out, as 
 it does, in a few slight and merely incidental touches, 
 and not in designed and studied descriptions, it fur- 
 nishes a very striking proof of the veracity and 
 reality of the Gospel histories. But, without dwell- 
 ing for the present upon this argument, which I have 
 occasionally illustrated in connection with other simi- 
 lar instances, let us now revert for more special, prac- 
 tical study, to the conduct of the sisters, in the par- 
 ticular circumstances referred to in the text. We 
 must not suppose, as some have been inclined to do, 
 that Martha betrayed on this occasion a worldly 
 mind, engrossed with earthly vanities and cares, 
 and little, if at all, concerned for spiritual and hea- 
 venly objects. This were to form a judgment of her 
 character, which the real circumstances of the case 
 do not at all warrant. She was, as I have already 
 remarked, a true believer, one whom Jesus loved, 
 
264 Martha and Mary. 
 
 admitted to peculiar intimacy, and honoured with 
 many distinguished marks of His regard. And even 
 her present conduct, culpable as it partly was, had in 
 it some things worthy of commendation. 
 
 She showed an excellent spirit, for example, in 
 welcoming Jesus and His disciples into her dwelling, 
 although He was well known to be an object of 
 bitter hatred and implacable persecution to the rulers 
 of the Jewish nation. Nor must it be forgotten in 
 reference to this point, that the house is especially 
 spoken of as being Marthcvs ; and she is singled out 
 as that member of the family, who, rising above the 
 fear of men, invited the Saviour, on this occasion, to 
 lodge within it. 
 
 She also discovered, not only a kindly and hospi- 
 table disposition to receive strangers, but a genuine 
 esteem and affection for the Lord Jesus, in her ear- 
 nest desire to make full provision for the entertain- 
 ment of Himself and His attendants. Her dwelling, 
 her substance, her time, her exertions, were cheer- 
 fully consecrated to Him whom she delighted to 
 honour. No doubt she carried her anxiety in regard 
 to this matter to an inordinate extent, when she suf- 
 fered it to overload her mind, to disturb her tem- 
 per, and even to interfere with her profiting by the 
 Saviour's teaching. But we have every reason to 
 think that her motives were of the purest and high- 
 est kind. It was not an engrossing concern for 
 worldly things that animated her, but rather an ill- 
 timed and misdirected carefulness in reference to 
 what she conceived to be her duty to Jesus. All 
 her " much serving," with which she was so sadly 
 " cumbered," was undertaken from love to the Re- 
 
Martha and Mary. 265 
 
 deemer. She is not therefore to be considered as a 
 type of those who neglect the interests of the soul 
 in their undue resfard for secular and carnal matters. 
 She is rather a type of those busy and zealous spirits, 
 who in their earnest endeavours to further the Sav- 
 iour's cause, to extend His kingdom, and to advance 
 His honour in the world, are apt at times to be less 
 heedful than they ought to be, of the more private 
 and unobtrusive offices of the Christian life, — and 
 who run some risk of becoming less considerate of 
 their own deep personal interest in religion, through 
 the very ardour and abundance of their labours to 
 promote its influence and prevalence. It has been 
 well said, too, by one whose intimate knowledge of 
 the living customs and condition of the holy " Land " 
 has enabled him to reflect many a ray of brightening 
 light on not a few pages of the holy *' Book," that : 
 ** As excuse for this Martha, we should remember, 
 that she was the responsible housekeeper, and that 
 she belonged to the class of society in which the 
 women of the family perfo^^med the household work 
 with their own hands ; and, hence, it was perfectly 
 natural she should claim the assistance of her younger 
 sister." 
 
 It is not to be disguised, however, that there were 
 some things in Martha's conduct worthy of repre- 
 hension. She was culpable for so far mistaking the 
 mind of Christ, as to think that any unusual dis- 
 play of show, or service, or luxury, was necessary to 
 gratify one who " pleased not Himself," who "sought 
 not great things," who " came not to be ministered 
 unto but to minister." She was culpable for allowing 
 her occupations to fret her temper and to burden or 
 
266 Martha and Mary. 
 
 distract her heart. She was culpable for not rightly 
 distinguishing her present duty, which certainly was 
 to reap all the benefits she possibly could from the 
 Saviour's instructions, — an object, to which all other 
 concerns, however important they may have been at 
 other times, ought, in so precious a season of im- 
 provement that might not long continue or soon re- 
 cur, to be subordinated. She was culpable for reflect- 
 ing on her sister in an unkind and uncharitable 
 manner, because she did not feel it to be incumbent 
 on her to testify her love to their Divine Master by 
 the same over-anxious ministrations with herself, but 
 chose rather to listen with deep interest to His hea- 
 venly doctrine. And, most of all, was she culpable 
 for her petulance, in seeking to obtrude her com- 
 plaints upon the Saviour's ear, and even to impute 
 to Hi7n 2l want of consideration for herself, in not 
 having already sent Mary to her assistance. In all 
 these particulars Martha was to be blamed. However 
 commendable might be the ends she had in view, 
 and the motives by which she was urged to the pro- 
 motion of them, she yet betrayed in the manner in 
 which she sought them, an undue measure of anxiety 
 and concern, a want of right discrimination and dis- 
 cernment, and a peevish irritability of temper, which 
 made her in all justice liable to rebuke. 
 
 In regard to Marys conduct, on the other hand, it 
 is but little that is stated in the narrative ; yet that 
 little is full of force and meaning. " She sat," we are 
 told, " at Jesus' feet, and heard His word." It was her 
 delight and her honour to be near to Him. In the 
 deep reverence with which she was regarding Him, 
 and the all-encrrossinf{ interest and attention with 
 
Martha and Mary. 267 
 
 which she Hstened to Him, no other concerns could 
 find a place within her breast. She was free from 
 disquietude. She was experiencing that " perfect 
 peace," in which He has promised to keep " those 
 minds that are stayed upon Him." It never occurred 
 to her, that she could in any better way exhibit the 
 warmth and cordiality of her love to Him, than by 
 meekly and eagerly listening to His doctrine. Had 
 she stopped to reason with her own mind upon the 
 subject, she would doubtless have thought it a very 
 poor and very unseasonable token of regard, to turn 
 away from His spiritual instructions, even for the 
 sake of ministering to His personal comfort. When 
 Jesus thought fit to address to her His heavenly 
 lessons, she could not but see that it was her present 
 duty — a duty to which all other engagements must for 
 that occasion give place, to hearken to His words 
 with undivided interest, — and that it ill became her 
 to seek another mode of testifying the regard in 
 which she held Him, than that which His own pro- 
 cedure so clearly pointed out. But, in truth, it was 
 not by reasoning that she was influenced. She was 
 acting on the more powerful impulse of devout affec- 
 tion. There was no posture which she loved so 
 much as sitting at her Master's feet, — no occupation 
 which she felt to be so congenial, as treasuring in her 
 heart the gracious truths that were uttered by Him. 
 Her sister might unkindly blame her for thus acting, 
 — and even reproach her in the hearing of all around 
 them. But no such complaints could greatly discom- 
 pose her. She felt too happy and peaceful in her 
 own mind to be harassed by any such causes of dis- 
 quietude. And she was doubtless persuaded at the 
 
268 Martha and Mary. 
 
 same time, — and as the event proved had ground for 
 the persuasion, — that " He was near who would jus- 
 tify " her conduct ; and that with His approbation to 
 sustain her, the censure of others was unworthy of a 
 thought. 
 
 II. Havine thus endeavoured to illustrate the 
 character and conduct of Martha and Mary, as no- 
 ticed in the text, we must now proceed to consider 
 the useful lessojis that are to be derived from the 
 judgment here given respecting them by the Lord 
 Jesus. 
 
 " Martha, Martha," He said, " thou art careful and 
 troubled about many things : but one thing is need- 
 ful : and Mary hath chosen that good part, which 
 shall not be taken away from her." 
 
 And I may begin by noticing the truly disinterested 
 goodness of the Saviour. You see from the text, how 
 far He was from " pleasing Himself" On this, as 
 on all other occasions. He was actuated by that true 
 charity which '' seeketh not its own.'' Ever far more 
 desirous to give than to receive, He more highly ap- 
 proved of Mary's deep concern to benefit her own 
 soul by listening to His instructions, than of all her 
 sister's kindly assiduity and bustling zeal in minister- 
 ing to His personal comfort. So earnestly was He 
 bent on the accomplishment of that gracious work 
 which He came to perform, that He preferred the 
 welfare of souls before even His necessary food, — 
 before even His life ; for as you well know. He laid 
 down that also to save them. On all occasions, as 
 well as on this, He verified His own saying, that 
 " the Son of man came, not to be ministered unto, but 
 
Martha and Mary. 269 
 
 to minister, and to give His life a ransom for many.' 
 Let us never, then, forget this precious truth, that the* 
 most acceptable tribute we can render to our heavenly 
 Master is heartily to give ourselves up to Him and 
 earnestly to seek fro7n Him that wisdom and that grace 
 which He so freely offers for the benefit of our immor- 
 tal soiils. He wishes rather to see us sitting at His 
 feet with a view to our own spiritual improvement, 
 than cumbered about much serving in His behalf. 
 He would rather that we should be anxious to receive 
 from Him than to give to Him. It is good, indeed, 
 to minister, if not to His personal comfort (which 
 cannot be done by us now that He is in heaven), at 
 least to His honour and influence in the world ; and 
 he is no true Christian who will not do so. But 
 Martha's zealous activity in working for Him, puri- 
 fied from that mixture of anxious care that tainted it, 
 must ever be blended with Mary's humble self-sur- 
 render and earnest desire to wait upon His word. 
 Nothing we may do for the advancement of His 
 honour, and the extension of His kingdom, must at 
 any time or in any measure be substituted for that 
 deep concern, which He primarily requires of us, to 
 further our own spiritual benefit, by growing more 
 and more in knowledge and in grace. 
 
 You will next observe, in these words of our Re- 
 deemer, His just and generous vindication of Marys 
 conduct from the charge that had so unadvisedly been 
 brought against it. He knew and acknowledged the 
 grace that was In her heart, although she did not 
 labour to display it by joining In the busy ministra- 
 tions of her sister. Martha's " much service " might 
 be useful or becomijig, if freed from that overcareful- 
 
270 Martha and Mary. 
 
 ness which she mixed with it, but could not at the 
 best be viewed under the circumstances as indispen- 
 sable to the exercise of faith and love. To that, " one 
 thing^' and one only, was ''■needful',' — an ea^^nest dispo- 
 sition to prize and to embrace the truth, and Him who 
 is " the Truth," '' the Light and Life of men." This 
 " disposition " Mary was exhibiting in such a way as 
 met with His approval. He adds that she had " chosen 
 that good part." By this we must not suppose Him to 
 imply that Martha had not made the same good and 
 pious choice, by seeking, in the general habit of her life, 
 a personal interest in the blessings of the great salva- 
 tion. His meaning simply is, that on this partic2ilar 
 occasion Mary was giving evidence of her choice, in 
 a manner still more striking than her sister, however 
 little Martha might give her credit for it. He then 
 further adds, that " that good part " which Mary had 
 chosen " should not be taken away from her." He 
 would not Hhnself interfere to deprive her of it, as 
 He had been asked to do, by sending her from His 
 presence. Nor would He suffer any other Influence 
 of men or of devils to wrest it from her hands. You 
 see from this. Brethren, how confidently the believer 
 may leave his cause to be vindicated by the Lord. 
 Men may ignorantly misunderstand or perversely 
 misrepresent our conduct, imputing to it wrong mo- 
 tives and false tendencies, and giving us no credit 
 for those genuine principles of faith and love which we 
 are striving to maintain. Our dearest friends and 
 nearest relatives may hinder and discourage us in our 
 religious duties. Our fellow-Christians may be want- 
 ing In their sympathy, and may even censure us be- 
 cause we are adopting another mode than that which 
 
. Martha and Mary. 2rj\ 
 
 they have chosen, to show the influence of Divine 
 grace upon our hearts and lives. But under every 
 such trial we may look up with humble confidence 
 to that gracious Lord, whose approbation is of far 
 greater consequence than that of all the universe 
 besides. It ought to suffice us to know that He fully 
 sees, and candidly appreciates our conduct. ' With 
 Him there is no injustice, no prejudice, no risk of 
 misapprehension or mistake. In the midst of all our 
 infirmities and imperfections. He is able to discern, 
 and ready to recognise and maintain, the integrity of 
 our hearts. And He will not fail in due season to 
 " bring forth our righteousness as the light, and our 
 judgment as the noon-day." 
 
 You will farther observe, in these words of the 
 Lord Jesus, the seasonable reproof which He adminis- 
 tered to Martha. Although He loved her, — nay, all 
 the more becaitse He loved her, — He kindly admonish- 
 ed her of the faults she was committingr. He was far, 
 certainly, from chiding her with that severity which 
 her fretfulness and petulance deserved ; and His mode 
 of addressing her, by the repetition of her name, be- 
 tokened at once the tenderness of His affection for 
 her, and the earnestness of His concern in her behalf. 
 But still He did not withhold from her the needful 
 correction. He pointed out to her, as we have already 
 seen, the injustice of her complaint against her sis- 
 ter. He assured her that Mary was, for the time 
 being, adopting what He regarded as the better 
 course, and that she herself would do well to imitate 
 her^ instead of seeking to turn her from her adherence 
 to it. He gently rebuked her for suffering those 
 employments, in which, from the best of motives 
 
272 Martha and Mary. . 
 
 doubtless, she was engaged, to mar her peace or 
 irritate her temper. And he solemnly cautioned her 
 never to forget, amid all her concern for the " many- 
 things" which were engrossing her, that '' one thing was 
 needful" — the care of her immortal soul, — and that 
 no other matters must come into competition with it. 
 It would be quite an error to suppose that Jesus 
 intended, when thus rebuking Martha, to discourage, 
 under ordinary circumstances, an active discharge of 
 social or domestic offices, or a zealous engagement 
 in such pious or benevolent schemes as love to Him- 
 self may prompt us to undertake. It is only against 
 encumbering ourselves with such things that He here 
 designs to put us upon our guard. We must not un- 
 necessarily multiply those engagements, whether they 
 be of a secular or of a religious nature, that do not 
 directly bear upon our own salvation. We must not 
 allow them to fill us with distracting cares or anxious 
 fears, or fretful repinings, such as beseem not the 
 faith and hope, and love and peace, that animate the 
 true Christian. Least of all must we give ourselves 
 to such matters, at times when the Lord is evidently 
 requiring us to further the welfare of our own souls 
 by calling on His name, or waiting on His word, or 
 engaging in His ordinances. 
 
 Such was the judgment which our blessed Lord 
 pronounced on the character and conduct of the two 
 individuals, whose case is specially referred to in the 
 passage before us. In meeting tkeii^ case, however, 
 He takes occasion to lay down some general maxims 
 of universal application and importance. And these 
 weighty maxims it becomes us all, without excep- 
 
Martha and Mary. 273 
 
 tlon, seriously to ponder and carefully to lay to 
 heart. 
 
 He speaks, for instance, of the paramount necessity 
 of that ca7'e of the soul which Mary was exemplifying 
 when she sat at His feet and listened to His words. 
 He says, in respect to it, " One thing is needful T He 
 does not mean that other things are absolutely un- 
 necessary, but that this " one thing' is especially and 
 supremely necessary. It is so pre-eminently neces- 
 sary, that all things besides are, in comparison with it, 
 unworthy of a serious thought. No doubt there are 
 other things which we require for our comfort, and 
 convenience, and maintenance in the present world. 
 And it is right that we should labour to obtain them, 
 so long as we take care to keep them in their proper 
 place, and do not let them interfere at any time with 
 the all-important work of our salvation. But what- 
 ever need we may have of other things, they are not 
 for one moment to be put in competition with the 
 care of the soul or the maintenance of personal re- 
 ligion. This is our one great want — we cannot be 
 safe without it, — we cannot be happy without it. It 
 is needful, not on some occasions, but on all occasions. 
 It is needful, not for some persojis, but for all — need- 
 ful for each individual on his own account. It is 
 needful, not for purposes of a subordinate nature, but 
 for the greatest and most important of all purposes. 
 It is needful for our peace of mind — needful for our 
 comfort and contentment — needful for our accept- 
 ance with God — needful for our moral excellence 
 and advancement — needful for our assistance in the 
 discharge of every duty, and for our support in the 
 endurance of every trial — needful for our true welfare 
 
 s 
 
274 Martha and Mary. 
 
 and happiness In the present Hfe, and for our ever- 
 lasting welfare in the life to come. Our all depends 
 upon it. Nothing can supply its place ; — without it 
 we are undone, and that for ever. Oh that this 
 weighty maxim of our great Teacher were deeply 
 and fixedly engraved upon our hearts ; and that while 
 He says " one tiling is needfid," each of us were ready 
 cordially to reply, this " one thing have I desired, and 
 that will I seek after" — " this one thing I do "f How 
 often is it otherwise ! How frequently is the care of 
 the soul dealt with as if it were the one thing stiperjlu- 
 ous instead of being " the one thing needful"! For 
 what poor trifling vanities is it slighted ! by what 
 grovelling pursuits and anxieties is it superseded ! 
 on what shallow and frivolous pretexts is it set aside ! 
 Brethren, see to it, that it be not so with you. Let 
 no minor concerns turn aside your thoughts from 
 that great concern which bears upon your highest 
 interests. " Seek ye first the kingdom of God and 
 His riorhteousness." 
 
 But, further, our heavenly Teacher has here assured 
 us, not only of the paramount necessity of personal 
 religion, but also of its sttrpassing and enduring excel- 
 lence. He very emphatically speaks of it as " that 
 good part, which shall not be taken away " from those 
 who choose it. 
 
 Justly may it be called the '^ good part'' for it se- 
 cures for us Christ, and all His blessings — a peace 
 that passeth understanding — a joy with which a 
 stranger doth not intermeddle — a hope that maketh 
 not ashamed — a comfort in every trouble — a refuge 
 in every danger — a strong support in death, and ever- 
 lasting glory in the life to come. Those who have 
 
Martha and Mary. 275 
 
 chosen it know it to be a goodly portion, and would 
 not exchange it for all the treasures of the universe. 
 Even those, who for the present are despising it, have 
 many fears and misgivings that in doing so they are 
 slighting that which would be truly for their good ; 
 and they will, at all events, be sensible of its priceless 
 value, when at length all thinofs come to be seen in 
 their true light, and to be judged of according to their 
 real importance. 
 
 This " good part " is as dtirable as it is excellent. 
 It cannot be lost. It shall never be taken away from 
 us. This is more than we are warranted to say of 
 our other enjoyments and advantages. Those earthly 
 blessings which we labour with so much industry and 
 carefulness to acquire, may be lost in an hour by some 
 unforeseen reverse, and must, in the course of a few 
 years, be lost for ever. Riches, honours, friendships, 
 enjoyments, — all of this world's goods, that are so apt 
 to cumber and engross us for the present,^ — will soon 
 be no more to us than the fleeting visions of a dream. 
 But the " good part " is ever secure ; no fraud, or 
 violence, or accident, can deprive us of it. God will 
 not take it from us, and no other can. Even death 
 itself, that fell spoiler, that strips us of all else which 
 we were wont to call our own, is so far from robbing 
 the Christian of this possession, that it brings him to 
 the full and never-ending enjoyment of it. 
 
 Choose ye, then. Brethren, " that good part ; " and j/ 
 if you have already chosen it, be steadfast, resolute, and | 
 consistent in adhering to it. Make it your chief care ; 
 prize it as your richest treasure. And whatever a 
 short-sighted world may say of it, be ready at all times 
 to acknowledge and to glory in it. By doing so, your 
 
276 Martha and Mary. 
 
 hearts will be exempted from all those harassing 
 troubles and anxieties which cumber the restless 
 votaries of the world. And you will, at the same 
 time, secure to yourselves a blessedness, both in this 
 life and in that which is to come, far more precious 
 than worldly men have ever experienced, even when 
 their fancied sources of bliss have most abounded. 
 He who so graciously vindicated Mary's choice, will 
 be equally ready to honour and approve of yours. 
 He will smile on you now when seated at His feet, 
 and, ere long. He will invite you to sit down with 
 Him upon His throne. 
 
 May God, of His infinite mercy, grant that all of 
 us may be enabled, by His grace, to choose and 
 cleave to this sure and blessed portion ! 
 
277 
 
 XV. 
 
 THE CONSTRAINING LOVE OF CHRIST.* 
 
 " The love of Christ constraineth us." — 2 CoR. v. 14. '.[','^ ' 
 
 In order to see the force of this statement, you must 
 take into account the circumstances that led to it, and 
 the special purpose for which it was advanced. Often 
 do the Scriptures suggest the love of Christ as a mo- 
 tive to the discharge of Christian duty, urging us to 
 love Him in return for His love to us, and to show 
 the sincerity of our love by our obedience to Him. 
 
 It is not so, however, in the present instance. 
 The love of Christ is referred to in the text, not 
 with the view of stirring up believers to adopt such 
 a line of conduct as it dictates to them, but rather 
 with the view of explaining and of justifying that pecu- 
 liar line of conduct which believers have been already 
 impelled by it to adopt, and which, since it cannot be 
 accounted for on any other principle, must be ascribed 
 to the influence of the Saviour's love. The Apostle, 
 in this passage, is not looking /o7'wards from the love 
 of Christ, when first implanted in the heart, to those 
 practical fruits which may reasonably be expected 
 from it. He is looking backzvards from these practi- 
 
 * Preached in 1855, before the Society in Scotland for Propagating Christian 
 Knowledge. 
 
278 The Constraining Love of Christ. 
 
 cal fruits, already displayed in full and rich abund- 
 ance, to that " constraining love of Christ " which 
 could alone have been adequate to the production 
 of them. 
 
 It would seem that certain members of the Corin- 
 thian Church were disposed to censure the conduct 
 of the Apostle. His dauntless zeal in braving the 
 severest hardships and persecutions for the further- 
 ance of the Christian cause, was ascribed by some 
 among them to phrensy or fanaticism ; while the pru- 
 dence he displayed, in conciliating opposition and 
 shunning danger, when able to do so without com- 
 promising his religious principles, was held by others 
 to savour of a lukewarm and pusillanimous spirit. 
 These most unfounded or inconsistent charges he 
 does not seek directly to repel. He does not con- 
 descend to argue in his defence against them. What- 
 ever opinions his detractors might entertain of him, 
 he is careful only to point out the true motive, by 
 which he was actuated in all his conduct ; a motive 
 which, to every ingenuous mind, was quite sufficient 
 to vindicate and explain it, — even the constraining 
 influence of the love of Christ, which left him no 
 choice but to seek by every competent means — 
 whether by caution and circumspection at one time, 
 or by ardour and intrepidity at another, — the promo- 
 tion of the Saviour's glory and of the Church's good. 
 " Whether we be beside ourselves," is his dignified 
 answer to the imputations that were cast upon him, 
 " it is to God ; or whether we be sober, it is for your 
 cause. For the love of Christ constraiiteth usy Yes ; 
 this was the mainspring of all his actions. It was 
 this that led him to endure hardships, to suffer afflic- 
 
The Constraining Love of Christ. 2^]^ 
 
 tlons, to brave dangers, to resist temptations, to take 
 cheerfully the spoiling of his goods, and even to 
 rejoice that he was counted worthy to suffer ignominy 
 and persecution for the Redeemer's sake. It was this, 
 too, that induced him, as circumstances might require 
 it, to bear with the infirmities of the weak, to conciliate 
 the prejudices of the hostile, and, as far as the inter- 
 ests of the truth would allow of it, to " become all 
 things to all men." By the ignorant or unreflecting 
 his conduct might be misconceived ; by the perverse 
 or uncandid it might be grossly misrepresented. 
 It migrht be stigmatised on some occasions as 
 timid and temporising; and on other occasions as 
 foolish and enthusiastic. But none of these things 
 moved him. There was an influence at work within 
 his breast which was mightier far than all that could 
 oppose it. It was the love of Christ constraining him. 
 Even so. Brethren, ought it to be with all Chris- 
 tians, according to the measure of their faith. To say 
 that redeeming love may be urged — legitimately and 
 forcibly urged on them — as a motive to the perform- 
 ance of their duty, is to say comparatively little. I 
 should rather say, in the spirit of the text, that there 
 ought to be no need of for77ially tirging on them a 
 consideration of redeeming love at all, but rather 
 a constant necessity of refer^'ing to it as the great 
 principle which habitually predominates in their 
 hearts, and the power of which is clearly discernible 
 in their whole conduct. Either they are not like- 
 minded with the Apostle Paul, or else the life they 
 are leading is of such a kind as cannot be satisfac- 
 torily accounted for by any other cause than "the 
 love of Christ constraining them." 
 
28o The Constraining Love of Christ. 
 
 The " love of Christ " may signify either His love 
 to His people or their love to Him. These two 
 affections, indeed, are inseparably connected. And 
 as influencing the conduct of the Christian, we can 
 scarcely, even in thought, disjoin them from one 
 another. It is true that the obedience of believers 
 springs more immediately from their love to their 
 Divine Master. But, then, their love to Him derives 
 its origin and its influence from that previous love 
 which He has manifested towards them. It is the 
 Saviour's love, trustfully relied on and gratefully 
 appreciated, that enthrones Him in their hearts, and 
 brings down their every thought and feeling into sub- 
 jection to Him. 
 
 Nor can we wonder at the influence it thus exerts. 
 For never, assuredly, was there a love like His, — so 
 warm, so rich, so generous, so devoted. Whether we 
 think of the infinite majesty of that adorable Being 
 by whom it was displayed, or of the utter unworthi- 
 ness of the objects of it, — whether we think of the 
 height of glory from which it stooped, or of the depth 
 of humiliation to which it descended, — whether we 
 think of its incomparable ardour, such as no ingrati- 
 tude could cool, no provocations alienate, no trials 
 dishearten, no sufferings extinguish — or of its un- 
 changeable constancy, defying alike principalities, and 
 powers, and height, and depth, and every other crea- 
 ture, to separate us from it in time or through eter- 
 nity, — whether we think of the inestimable benefits 
 of pardon, and peace, and hope, and joy, and comfort, 
 and holiness, and heaven which it has conferred— or 
 of the costly price of voluntary suffering, and igno- 
 miny, and death, by which it has procured them, — 
 
The Constraining Love of Christ. 281 
 
 we find, in every view of this Divine Love, abundant 
 matter for grateful and adoring wonder. Think of it 
 as we may, indeed, our thought is too Hmited to form 
 any adequate conception of it. It has in it heights 
 too lofty to be scanned, and depths too profound to 
 be fathomed, and lengths and breadths too vast to be 
 measured by us. Those who best know it, will ever 
 be the readiest to say, in the words of inspiration, 
 that " it passeth knowledge." It is the continual study 
 of the saints in heaven. The very " angels desire to 
 look into it." And eternity itself will be too short 
 to learn all its excellence, or to utter all its praise. 
 
 It is not, however, as a mere subject of admiration 
 that the Love of Christ is referred to in the text, but 
 as the great predominating principle to which the 
 conduct of Christians must be ascribed, and by which 
 alone it can be satisfactorily accounted for. It is of 
 the nature of love to beget love, and to this general 
 rule the Love of Christ is no exception. No sooner 
 has it been effectually shed abroad within the heart 
 of a believer by the Holy Spirit, than it excites there 
 a reciprocal affection which, taking supreme posses- 
 sion of the soul, impels it to acts of cheerful and 
 devoted homage. 
 
 The manner in which this influence is acquired by 
 it is very distinctly stated in the passage before us. 
 " The love of Christ," we are told, " constraineth us ; 
 because we thus judge, that if one died for all, then 
 were all dead," — or as it may be more correctly tran- 
 slated, then all died—'' and He died for all, that they 
 which live should not henceforth live unto them- 
 selves, but unto Him which died for them, and rose 
 again." 
 
282 The Constraining Love of Christ. 
 
 The idea here expressed is a very favourite one 
 with the Apostle. Often does he speak of Christians 
 as " dead with Christ," as " made conformable to His 
 death," as " planted together in the likeness of His 
 death." And in one very striking passage in parti- 
 cular, which occurs in the 2d chapter of the Epistle 
 to the Galatians, at the 20th verse, he thus writes : 
 **I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet 
 not I, but Christ liveth in me : and the life which I 
 now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of 
 God, who loved me, and gave Himself for me." In 
 this striking passage the very same idea is expressed 
 in nearly the same language as in the text — namely, 
 that in the practical judgment of the faithful Chris- 
 tian, Ills own life, as to all selfish purposes, is held by 
 hhn to have expired ttpon his Saviour s cross, so that 
 in his prevailing disposition he is now dead to every- 
 thing that interferes with his devotedness to the Son 
 of God, who gave Himself for him. So closely does 
 his fate unite him to the Saviour, that he views him- 
 self as having fellowship with that Saviour alike in 
 His crucifixion and in His resurrection, and " reckons 
 himself to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto 
 God through Jesus Christ." He lives no more 
 himself, but Christ liveth in him ; the whole life 
 which he now leads, as a Christian, being one of 
 conformity to the example, and subserviency to the 
 will of Christ. 
 
 Just such is the judgment which, according to the 
 text, the love of Christ dictates to all who are " con- 
 strained " by it. As many of us, then, as truly love 
 Him " thus judge, that if one died for all, then all died." 
 His death was our death to all intents and purposes. 
 
The Constraining Love of Christ. 283 
 
 It was our death not only in the view of God's law, 
 which looked on His propitiatory sufferings, endured 
 in our stead, as equivalent to ours, but also in the 
 eye of our own moral or practical judgment. We 
 regard our old man as crucified along with Him, to 
 the effect that self and sin in us may be put to death. 
 We consider that henceforth we have 110 life of our 
 own to lead, — that is to say, no life for the furtherance 
 of our own interest, or the gratification of our own 
 will, apart from His, but anew life, of which faith in 
 the Lord Jesus, working by love, is the quickening 
 and sustaining principle, — a life of cheerful conform- 
 ity to the will, and of unreserved devotedness to the 
 glory, of that Redeemer, who " to this end both died, 
 and rose, and revived, that He might be Lord both 
 of the dead and living." 
 
 Such being the light in which all faithful Christians 
 are led by the power of redeeming Love to view them- 
 selves — as deadened to all selfish aims and interests by 
 the death of Christ, so that they '' should not hence- 
 forth live unto themselves, but unto Him which died 
 for them and rose again " — let me now direct your 
 more particular attention to the mighty influence 
 which the Love of Christ is here described as exer- 
 cising, conformably to such a view, upon their conduct. 
 
 " The love of Christ," says the Apostle, using a 
 highly forcible expression, "■ constraineth ^isT The 
 corresponding word in the original primarily signifies 
 to shut up or to compi'-ess, as by some coercive power 
 which cannot be withstood ; and in its secondary 
 sense it means to impel, to bear away, or to hurry 
 onwards, as if by the force of some rapid and im- 
 petuous torrent. As employed in the text, it inti- 
 
284 The Constraining Love of Christ. 
 
 mates that the Love of Christ exerts somewhat of 
 this mighty and welhiigh irresistible influence on His 
 people as often as it takes full possession of their 
 souls, captivating their every thought, engaging their 
 every affection, shutting them closely up, or hemming 
 them completely in, so that only one line of conduct 
 can be adopted by them — urging all their energies 
 into action, bearing them on in the face of every 
 obstacle, and leaving them no alternative but to 
 obey its dictates. 
 
 I. I need scarcely observe, in attempting to illustrate 
 the strong language here employed by the Apostle, 
 that it clearly intimates the cheerfulness and alac7^ity 
 with which the Lord Jesus is served by His attached 
 people. 
 
 It is true they are "drawn" to Him; but it is 
 " with cords of love." They are " constrained ; " but 
 it is with a heart-constraint. He has "made them a 
 willing people in His day of power." He has won 
 from them their hearts ; and these once secured, 
 nothing else He may require can be withheld from 
 Him. 
 
 It is not in the nature of any love to yield a reluc- 
 tant service to the object of it. The Love of Christ, 
 urged by its own impulse, likewise eagerly seeks to 
 commend itself to His approval. It studies to please 
 Him, and stands ever ready, not only to fulfil, but to 
 anticipate, and, were it possible, exceed His wishes. 
 
 In this respect, love is a stronger law to itself than 
 any other law that can be prescribed to it. It prompts 
 us to submit to those things with the utmost cheerful- 
 ness, which otherwise would have been most irksome 
 
The Constraining Love of Christ. 285 
 
 and intolerable. It lightens every burden, softens 
 every hardship, sweetens every toil, and shortens 
 every journey. It makes our duty, even when most 
 arduous, to be chosen and clung to as our privilege 
 and our delight. What was it that made Jacob's 
 seven years of hard servitude, twice over endured 
 for Rachel, appear but as a few days ? What, but 
 "the great love he bore to her" ? What makes the 
 fond mother, in tending her baby charge, joyfully 
 undergo watchings and privations, which to any but 
 a mother's heart would be unbearable ? Is it not the 
 power of love, which will not allow her to forget or 
 neo-lect the infant she has borne ? If love can do all 
 this when cherished towards other objects, what will 
 it not do when cherished towards Him, who is felt 
 and owned by such as truly know Him to be "the 
 chief among ten thou'sand, and altogether lovely"? 
 Surely it will lead them also, and it does lead them, 
 with hearty and cheerful alacrity to engage in any 
 course of duty to which He may invite them — esteem- 
 ing His service perfect freedom, and counting it their 
 meat and drink to do His will. Heavy and galling, 
 indeed, in the judgment of other men, may seem to 
 be the yoke that they are carrying ; but love to that 
 heavenly Master who has imposed it, renders it so 
 light that they scarcely feel its weight. Dreary and 
 rugged may seem to be the path which they are called 
 to traverse while walking in the Saviour's footsteps ; 
 but love to Him, who has trodden it before them, 
 can make it a way of pleasantness and peace — level- 
 ling its mountains, filling up its valleys, making its 
 crooked places straight, and its rough places smooth. 
 Painful and grievous, to such as confer only with 
 
286 The Constraining Love of Christ. 
 
 flesh and blood, may be the sacrifices required of 
 them. But at the call of Love, the most painful sacri- 
 fices will be submitted to without a murmur, for the 
 sake of that adorable Redeemer, who hath taken 
 away their sins by the sacrifice of Himself. " Speak, 
 Lord," is the language of the believer, "for Thy 
 servant heareth." Lord, what wilt Thou have me to 
 do ? Be it to endure hardships, or to suffer afflic- 
 tions ; be it to renounce my most easily besetting 
 sins, to forego my fondest earthly hopes, to part with 
 my dearest creature-comforts and enjoyments ; be it 
 to cut off a right hand, or to pluck out a right eye ; 
 Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do ? Through 
 Thy Love, behold, I am willing, and through Thy 
 grace I am able to do all things. 
 
 n. I would farther remark, as implied in the state- 
 ment before us, that the homage of true believers, 
 when prompted by the Love of Christ, is not only 
 cheerful, but tinqualified and unreserved. 
 
 In this respect it differs widely from that stinted 
 service which others are wont to render. If you 
 look at the ordinary conduct of those who are not 
 cordially actuated by Christian principle, you will 
 find them eagerly striving by every means to limit 
 the amount of homage to be exacted from them. 
 They are cold, and calculating, and grudging in all 
 that they do. They look upon the commandments 
 of the Lord as so many irksome restraints, from 
 which it is desirable, as far as possible, to be ex- 
 empted. And in obeying them, they seem to con- 
 sider themselves as dealing, not with a gracious 
 Benefactor, whose mercies can never be adequately 
 
The Constraining Love of Christ. 2S'-j 
 
 repaid, but rather with some rigorous creditor, whose 
 claims they must strive to the utmost extent to miti- 
 gate. Even when the precepts of Christianity are 
 most expHcit, they will try to relax or modify the 
 import of them, in as far as it interferes with the 
 indulgence of their besetting sins. And in regard 
 to all doubtful cases, they are sure to take to them- 
 selves the full benefit of every doubt. When warned 
 to abstain from any course of action, which, if not 
 decidedly and unequivocally sinful, has certainly some- 
 what about it of " the appearance of evil," their answer 
 is quite ready, " / cannot find it ; 'tis not in the bond.'' 
 They will rather run the risk of indulging in what is 
 sinful, if there be even the faintest possibility of sup- 
 posing it innocent, than deny themselves to a grati- 
 fication, which is at least dangerous, considering how 
 nearly it may approximate to the verge of sin. Their 
 great fear seems to be that very groundless one, of 
 doing in any respect too much in the Lord's service. 
 They jealously watch lest in anything they should 
 exceed the indispensable requirements of their duty, 
 giving no more than they dare not withhold, and not 
 even yielding up that little without a murmur. 
 
 How different is the conduct of the believer when 
 actuated by the motive in the text ! He is a cordial, 
 liberal, devoted servant. Serving his Lord from a 
 principle of Love^ he feels that he never can serve 
 Him too faithfully. He cannot be content to measure 
 out, with slow and sparing hand, the stinted portion 
 of a reluctant homage. He cannot think, like another 
 Ananias, of " keeping back part of the price." It is 
 not for him to be anxious in every instance to find 
 out the utmost limit of his obligations, and jealous of 
 
288 The Constraining Love of Christ. 
 
 passing in the least degree beyond it. Even could 
 this precise limit be ascertained, the man who is duly 
 influenced by the Love of Christ would much rather 
 go a thousand steps beyond it than fail by ever so 
 small a measure of attaining to it. But, in truth, this 
 limit he never can arrive at. His obligations are 
 commensurate with his Saviour's love, and that he 
 feels to be altogether immeasurable. Never can he 
 think himself exempted by any past doings from 
 attempting yet more in his Lord's service, so long as 
 he comes short — as still he needs must — of the height, 
 and depth, and length, and breadth of the love of 
 Christ, which passeth knowledge. Instead, therefore, 
 of asking. From what service he may be allowed to 
 escape ? he will rather ask, What service he may be 
 privileged and empowered to render ? Instead of 
 calculating how little he may be allowed to do, without 
 a gross dereliction of his principles, he will rather 
 calculate how 7niich he may be able to do, in order to 
 give free scope and full efficacy to his holy affections. 
 And even when he has done his utmost, the question 
 will still as readily come back upon him, and as loudly 
 demand a reply as ever, " What shall I render to the 
 Lord for all His benefits ? " Thus unreserved and 
 unqualified must be the service of all who are truly 
 actuated by the love of Christ ; and those who can 
 be content to render any less, must certainly know 
 nothing, as they ought to know, of that " constrain- 
 ing " power which is ascribed to it in the text. 
 
 III. I would yet farther observe, in illustration of 
 this statement, that the obedience of the believer, 
 when prompted by the Love of Christ, while it is thus 
 
The Constraining Love of Christ. 289 
 
 fill, and thus unreserved, is also bold, decided, and 
 tmcompromising. 
 
 This is evidently taught us in the text, when taken 
 in connection with the context ; for the very circum- 
 stance which led the Apostle to allude, on this occa- 
 sion, to the love of Christ at all, was, that his own 
 conduct, which some of the Corinthians were disposed 
 to censure, required such a reference to its impelling 
 motive to account for it. So bold was he, so zealous, 
 and so decided in furthering the cause and glory of 
 the Saviour, — so marked and palpable was the differ- 
 ence between his habits of life and those which would 
 have been dictated or commended to him by the 
 current maxims and prevailing fashions of the world, 
 — and so little did he heed the reproaches that might 
 be cast upon him, or the dangers and trials that might 
 encompass him in his path of duty, that his conduct 
 would have been utterly inexplicable, but for his 
 being able to appeal to the love of Christ as the great 
 commanding principle by which he was mightily con- 
 strained to the adoption of it. 
 
 In this respect, if we be partakers of his faith, we 
 will not fail to be imitators of his example. A back- 
 ward or equivocal profession of Christianity is alto- 
 gether unworthy of the love of Christ. If we duly 
 appreciate and gratefully return His love, we will be 
 decided and uncompromising in our adherence to 
 Him. We will not be always puzzling the world 
 around us, and, it may be, puzzling our own minds 
 within us, to determine what manner of spirit we 
 are of. We will not be so faint and lukewarm in our 
 efforts, or so unstable and vacillating in our principles, 
 as to render it a matter of uncertainty, whether we be 
 
 T 
 
290 The Constraining Love of Christ. 
 
 animated by the love of Christ or no. We will strive, 
 on the contrary, to be so conformed to His likeness, so 
 obedient to His will, so devoted to His glory, at what- 
 soever cost of exertion and of self-denial, that all who 
 observe us shall have cause to take knowledge of us, 
 that we are, beyond doubt, His faithful and attached 
 disciples. It is true, we are to shun ostentation. 
 We are not called to be ever and anon making a high- 
 sounding profession — affecting in things indifferent 
 a needless singularity — or exhibiting a vain-glorious 
 display of what we would have to be thought our 
 excellencies and attainments, in order to attract the 
 notice of our fellow-men. But we are equally to 
 shun the opposite extremes of backwardness, du- 
 plicity, or indecision. We must not think of follow- 
 ing Christ " afar off," or of stealing after Him by some 
 clandestine path, as if we were afraid or ashamed to 
 be seen among His people. We must " follow Him 
 fully," and cleave to Him steadfastly, through bad 
 report as well as through good report, and be willing, 
 at any call of duty, to go with Him, even " without 
 the camp, bearing His reproach." Nor is it enough 
 that there be nothing in our habitual deportment 
 that is glaringly inconsistent with our love to Him. 
 Our whole life ought to be marked by the clearest 
 tokens of cheerful and thorough devotedness to His 
 service, insomuch that both ourselves and others shall 
 be necessitated to ascribe them to the love of Christ, 
 as alone adequate to the production of them. Such, 
 unquestionably, ought to be the conduct of all who 
 have any sincerity in their Christian profession. Such 
 will unavoidably be their conduct at all such times 
 as they are able with truth to say, in the language 
 
The Constraining Love of Christ. 291 
 
 of the text, that " the love of Christ constraineth " 
 them. 
 
 You see, then, dear Brethren, how mighty is the 
 power which the love of the Saviour exerts upon His 
 people as often as their hearts are duly pervaded and 
 affected by it ; — you see with what alacrity and cheer- 
 fulness, — with what unqualified and unreserved de- 
 votedness, — with what uncompromising firmness and 
 decision, — the obedience of all such persons must be 
 characterised, as are really the subjects of its sweet 
 but strong constraint. 
 
 For 2. practical ^rooi of the efficacy of this principle, 
 we need not go any farther than to the history of that 
 man by whom the words of the text were written. 
 For no one who reads the history of the Apostle Paul, 
 — no one who thinks of the sacrifices he made, the 
 labours he underwent, the trials he encountered, — no 
 one who views him traversing sea and land in the 
 ardent and untiring prosecution of his holy enterprise, 
 braving the most formidable dangers, enduring the 
 severest hardships, submitting to the most galling 
 insults and indignities, exposing himself to the most 
 relentless persecutions, — no one who thinks of him 
 speaking all the while of the manifold tribulations to 
 which he was thus subjected, as " his light afflictions," 
 — esteeming the reproach of his Divine Master above 
 all the pleasures and honours of the world, and re- 
 joicing that he was counted worthy to suffer the loss 
 of all things for the Redeemer's sake ; — no one, I say, 
 who thus follows him throughout his life, and sees him 
 at last laying down that life with all the joy and triumph 
 of a martyr, can hesitate to say of this devoted man 
 that truly the " love of Christ" did " constrain" him. 
 
292 The Constraiumg Love of Christ. 
 
 And, Brethren, the same principle which wrought 
 in him so mightily has not now lost anything of its 
 efficacy. It is still as powerfully " constraining " as 
 it ever was. It still lives and reigns in the hearts 
 of all sincere and lively Christians. They may not, 
 indeed, be called to testify their love in the same 
 conspicuous manner with the Apostles, but still they 
 are more or less the subjects of its constraining power. 
 In the quiet intercourse of social or domestic life, — 
 in the daily routine of their walk and conversation, — as 
 well as in the regular discharge of their religious 
 duties, — the influence of this principle is felt in all its 
 energy, sweetening their tempers, purifying their de- 
 sires, elevating their affections, strengthening their 
 resolutions, stirring them up to activity and devoted- 
 ness in whatever sphere Divine Providence may have 
 allotted to them, prompting them to " walk in love, 
 as Christ also loved them," and to go " about," as He 
 did, " doing good," — lifting up their souls from the 
 vanities of the world to that better country where 
 their Redeemer liveth, and making the life which 
 they now lead in the body a life of faith on the Son 
 of God, who loved them and died for them. 
 
 Let me ask you, dear Friends, whether it be so with 
 you ? Can you thus confirm by your own personal 
 experience the truth of that statement on which we 
 have been meditating ? Is there anything to be 
 noted in the state of your hearts, or in the habitual 
 tenor of your lives, which " the love of Christ," and 
 that only, can account for ? 
 
 Alas ! there are many with whom it is far other- 
 wise. When we look at the mass of nominal Chris- 
 tians who surround us ; when we think how little, for 
 
The Constraining Love of Christ. 293 
 
 the most part, is to be seen about them, beyond a cold 
 and lifeless profession, to mark them out as Christians 
 at all ; when we see how exceedingly unwilling they 
 are to make any sacrifice, to incur any expense, or to 
 put themselves to any trouble or inconvenience in 
 discharging the duties or promoting the interests of 
 religion ; when we find how ready they are to plead 
 the most flimsy excuse, or to urge the most con- 
 temptible sophistry, in order to escape from the strict 
 requirements of Christianity, — how easily they are 
 induced to compromise their principles, as often as 
 these may be at variance with their worldly interests, 
 — and how paltry a consideration will oftentimes pre- 
 vail with them to set the authority of their professed 
 Master at open defiance ; — when we think of these 
 things it is impossible, even with the utmost stretch 
 of charity, to suppose that such persons are really 
 living under the influence of that powerful principle 
 of which we have been speaking. " Constrained by 
 the love of Christ!" Not they, assuredly. To say 
 such a thing of them would be too palpable a contra- 
 diction of the whole strain of their sentiments and 
 actions to be once thought of; rather may we say 
 of them, on the contrary, that they seem to be just 
 as indifferent to a Saviour's love as if He had never 
 displayed it to them at all, — as if for them He had shed 
 no blood, and borne no curse, and purchased no heaven. 
 But even among those of whom it may be said 
 that they have in some good measure been enabled 
 to apprehend and to appreciate the love of Christ, how 
 few are there in whom it has wrought with that pre- 
 vailing power which it is fitted to exert ! Must we 
 not all of us be humbled by the reflection, how much 
 
294 The Consiraming Love of Christ. 
 
 more we have lived to ourselves than to the Lord ! 
 For, alas ! how cold have our hearts often felt towards 
 Him! How backward, grudging, and partial has been 
 our homage! How apt have we been to murmur 
 at His easy yoke, and to rid ourselves, as far as we 
 could with any regard to outward decency, of His light 
 burden ! And even in those respects in which we 
 have most strictly served Him, how often have we 
 had to be dragged or driven along by a very differ- 
 ent kind of constraint from the self-moving impulse 
 of a loving and devoted heart, instead of running in 
 the way of His commandments ! Paul was obliged to 
 refer to the love of Christ in order to explain peculi- 
 arities in his conduct, which could not otherwise be 
 satisfactorily accounted for. But we, even the best 
 among us, have too often to reverse the process, and 
 to search about for some faint tokens in our character 
 and conduct, in the midst of much that is equivocal 
 or inconsistent, whereby we may be enabled to resolve 
 the question, Whether we be animated by the love of 
 Christ at all ? 
 
 Oh then, let us seek to have this constraining Love 
 more clearly and fully manifested to our minds, and 
 with livelier force impressed upon our hearts! Let 
 us confidently rely and gratefully reflect on that 
 astonishing worth of redeeming grace, by which it 
 has been so marvellously commended to us, until our 
 whole souls are captivated with the sense of it, and 
 are moved to love, with a fervour more worthy of 
 Him, that adorable Saviour who hath first loved us. 
 And let it be our earnest prayer to His Father and 
 our Father, " of whom the whole family in heaven and 
 earth is named, that He would grant us, according 
 
The Constraining Love of Christ. 295 
 
 to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with 
 might by His Spirit in the inner man ; that Christ 
 may dwell in our hearts by faith ; that we, being 
 rooted and grounded in love, may be able to com- 
 prehend with all saints what is the breadth, and 
 length, and depth, and height ; and to know the love 
 of Christ, which passeth knowledge." Then shall we 
 be brought to yield ourselves up to Him with full and 
 unreserved devotedness as His willing people. Then 
 shall there be no more of that indifference to His 
 cause, — no more of that backwardness in His service 
 to be seen about us, — of which we have so often had 
 reason to be ashamed. Theji shall we no more be 
 satisfied with mere professions as any sufficient 
 evidence of our love to Him. Ah ! Brethren, true 
 love is never satisfied with mere professions. You 
 full well know that Christ's Love was not satisfied 
 with them. It cost Him something more than pro- 
 fessions: it cost Him tears, and ignominy, and blood, 
 to manifest the Love He bore to you. And, in like 
 manner, if you love Him in sincerity, you will seek 
 to give Him some more substantial proof than mere 
 professions, of the love you bear to Him. Often 
 meditating upon that marvellous Love of His, and 
 ever keeping it in remembrance, you will gratefully 
 tell of all its preciousness and all its power of 
 strengthening and sustaining your own soul. You 
 will eagerly seek, by every appointed means of grace, 
 to cultivate more and more your fellowship and ac- 
 quaintance with Him. You will carefully shun 
 whatever is displeasing to Him, and cheerfully 
 perform whatever He approves of. You will prize 
 His Word, and take pleasure in His ordinances. 
 
296 The Constraining Love of Christ. 
 
 You will advance His kingdom, and honour all His 
 laws. 
 
 The one supreme way in which you may always 
 practically manifest the constraining influence of the 
 love of Christ is by Jmnibly endeavouring to imitate 
 it, in your warm and active benevolence towards your 
 fellow-men. Hearken to the Saviour's own injunc- 
 tion : " This is my commandment," He says, " that 
 ye love one another, as I have loved you," pointing 
 to His own Love as at once the inotive and the model 
 of that brotherly affection which He would have us 
 all to cherish. He is pleased to make our brethren 
 of mankind the recipients of a large proportion of 
 the debt of gratitude which we owe to Himself He 
 gives them authority in His name to draw upon us 
 for the exercise of our benevolence. And He graci- 
 ously recognises every act of kindness, which we may 
 be induced to do to them for His sake, as a fit and 
 acceptable requital of His goodness to us. 
 
 This is more especially the case with those whom 
 we have reason to regard as our Christian brethren. 
 With them the Lord Jesus is pleased to identify 
 Himself in the closest and tenderest manner. He 
 owns them as His familiar friends, — He claims them 
 as His near kindred. He says of them: " Behold my 
 mother and my brethren. For whosoever shall do 
 the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same 
 is my brother, and sister, and mother ! " Oh ! what 
 a claim, then, have all such to our fondest regard ! 
 How well does it become us to love them, to feel for 
 them, and to show them all manner of kindness for 
 His sake ! You know how cheerfully the beloved 
 Disciple responded to the touching appeal which was 
 
The Constraining Love of Christ. 297 
 
 made to Him from the Cross, when the mother of 
 Jesus was commended to his care. Even so still 
 does the Saviour commend to us His spiritual kind- 
 red amid their necessities and their griefs. The 
 Lord Jesus, though now exalted, has many a poor 
 follower on earth, whom He owns still as His mother, 
 or sister, or brother, and for whom He warmly solicits 
 our compassion. When disciples plead with us — 
 the hungry for food or the naked for clothing," the 
 sick for relief or the sorrowful for comfort, the 
 ignorant for instruction or the helpless for protection, 
 ■ — let us bear in mind their affinity to Him who has 
 unbounded claims to our gratitude and service. Let 
 us think of the Saviour, even from His throne of 
 glory, pointing to them, and saying to us : " Behold 
 my mother and my brethren ! Oh ! reverence them, 
 pity them, love them for my sake ! " Let us think of 
 this, and surely it will prevail with us, if any consider- 
 ation can, to communicate to the necessities of the 
 saints, and to do good to them that are of the house- 
 hold of faith. 
 
 But not to such only must our higher sympathies 
 be confined. No, Brethren, if we would imitate the 
 love of Christ, we will not restrict our benevolent 
 regards to those merely whom we believe to be truly 
 numbered already among His people. We will, after 
 His example, extend them to every member of the 
 human family. The love of Christ was universal 
 and diffusive. He was loving towards all, though 
 not indiscriminating in His Love. He pitied the 
 erring, mourned over the obdurate, and gently bore 
 with the despiteful and injurious. He held out the 
 rich treasures of His erace to those who were alike 
 
298 The Constrainijig Love of Christ. 
 
 unworthy to obtain them, and unwiUing, even in spite 
 of His urgency, to receive them. If, then, we would 
 prove ourselves to be truly influenced by His Love, 
 we must imitate it in all the wideness of its exten- 
 sion. Though we may love more warmly our 
 brethren in the faith, we must also truly love all 
 our brethren of mankind, and be willing according 
 to their needs and to the utmost of our power, to 
 supply their wants and promote their welfare both 
 for the life that now is, and also for that which is to 
 come. Thus only can we show that the Love of 
 Christ is constraining us to live no longer unto our- 
 selves, but unto the Lord who died for us and rose 
 
299 
 
 XVI. 
 
 SELF-DEDICATION AND CHRISTIAN LIBERALITY. 
 
 "And this they did, not as we hoped, but first gave their own selves to 
 the Lord, and unto us by the will of God." — 2 CoR. viii. 5. 
 
 Such is the explanation which the Apostle gives of 
 that remarkable instance of liberality, on the part 
 of the suffering Churches of Macedonia, to which 
 he had borne so high a testimony in the previous 
 verses. He is wishing to persuade the Christians 
 at Corinth to make such bountiful contributions, as 
 their prosperous circumstances warranted him to 
 look for, in aid of their poor and afflicted brethren 
 at Jerusalem. And, with this view, he warmly com- 
 mends to them the example of certain other Churches, 
 that had not only taken the precedence of them in 
 this work of love, but had shown a degree of gene- 
 rosity in the performance of it, which it equally 
 became them to admire and to emulate. 
 
 The Churches, thus honourably referred to, were 
 those of Berea, Philippi, and Thessalonica, and 
 perhaps of some other places in the province of 
 Macedonia. Their temporal circumstances assuredly 
 were not such as to give promise of any large amount 
 of liberality. And yet we are told of them in St Paul's 
 emphatic language, that in a time of great affliction, 
 
300 Self-Dedication and 
 
 ** the abundance of their joy and their deep poverty 
 abounded unto the riches of their hberahty." They 
 gave to the full extent of their ability ; yea, as their 
 inspired witness bears record, they gave what 
 might, on the ordinary principles of computation, 
 have been thought to be " beyond their power." 
 They were cheerful donors too, " willing of them- 
 selves," requiring no importunity to extort their gifts, 
 but on the contrary using importunity, and " praying " 
 the Lord's servants " with much entreaty " to ''receive'' 
 them. And in all this they exceeded the expectations 
 that had been formed of them even by the Apostle, 
 doing it, to quote his words, " not as we hoped',' but 
 more than realising all that he had looked for from 
 the utmost warmth and generosity of their Christian 
 love, in circumstances so unfavourable to its exercise. 
 Such was the notable liberality of the Macedonian 
 Churches, a liberality which abounded even unto riches, 
 out of the veriest depths of poverty and suffering, 
 and by which the devoted Paul seems to have been 
 himself astonished. 
 
 If it be asked. Whence did this arise f On what 
 ostensible ground can it be accounted for ? How 
 came it to pass that persons, thus circumstanced, 
 should have displayed a bountifulness in their gifts, 
 such as might not only surprise a selfish world, but 
 exceed the hopes that had been formed of them by 
 one who had himself learned to endure the loss of 
 all things, and even to count all things but loss for 
 Christ's sake ? We can only answer by referring, 
 as the context does, to the ''^ grace of God bestowed 
 on these Churches." Yes ; it was the " grace of God 
 bestowed on them," which opened their hearts, 
 
Christian Liberality. 301 
 
 warmed their affections, and stirred them up to 
 " devise hberal things." 
 
 And if it be again asked, after what manner did 
 the grace of God exert its influence on them ? What 
 was the nature or what the order of the process, by 
 which through the power of Divine Grace they were 
 brought to exhibit so notable a pattern of munifi- 
 cence ? — to this question we find a ready answer 
 in the text. The grace of God was exerted in the 
 way of prompting them to a thorough surrender of 
 themselves to Him. It led them to give their pro- 
 perty, by first leading them to give themselves, as sa- 
 cred offerings to the glory of their Lord and Saviour. 
 It made them a willing people in His day of power. 
 It won for Him their hearts ; and these once secured, 
 nothing else that they possessed could be withheld 
 from Him. For as the Apostle here declares con- 
 cerning them, " they first gave their own selves to 
 the Lord and unto tis by the will of God!' 
 
 There are two observations which I would en- 
 deavour to illustrate, in addressing you from these 
 words. 
 
 The first is, that self-dedication to the Lord is a 
 necessary pre-requisite to his acceptance of aity such 
 gifts or services as we may render to Him. And the 
 second is, that the offering of siLch gifts and services 
 as in His Word are required of us, — cheerfully and 
 bountifully to the full extent of otir ability, — is a 
 necessary result of the yielding of ourselves to Him, 
 wlierever we have done it in siiicerity. 
 
 To a few plain remarks in illustration of these 
 points, let me now, in dependence on the Divine 
 blessing, beg your attention. 
 
302 Self-Dedication and 
 
 I. Our first position is, that lue must dedicate our- 
 selves to God, as an indispensable pre-requisite to His 
 acceptance of any stick services or offerings as we 7nay 
 present to Him. 
 
 It is, indeed, rather by impHcation, than by direct 
 statement, that this doctrine is inculcated in the text. 
 And yet there cannot be a doubt that it is inculcated. 
 Paul is here speaking with evident approbation of 
 the special course or order of procedure which had 
 been adopted by the Macedonian Churches, when 
 they ''first gave their own selves to the Lo7^d,'' and 
 then by the will of God, gave themselves to the 
 Apostles, with a view to the performance of such 
 godly and beneficent deeds as these inspired men, 
 on behalf of the Lord, might dictate to them. And 
 you will at once see that, in the commendation thus 
 pronounced upon them, there is an especial force or 
 emphasis on the word ''first!' It is not so much 
 the liberality of their alms-deeds, as their devotedness 
 to God, of which these alms-deeds were but the 
 natural fruits to which the Apostle here solicits our 
 regard, as the primary and most prominent object 
 of our contemplation. All that they might do, and 
 all that they might give, in furtherance of such good 
 works as might be suggested to them, were, in his 
 judgment, matters of subordinate concern to the 
 principle of godly self-stirrender from which they 
 flowed. That which Z2sr\.ft first in the order of their 
 procedure, and which ought to stand first in the 
 estimation which we form of it, was, not their good 
 service rendered to the Church, but their unreserved 
 homage rendered to the Church's Head. First cdime 
 the gift of "their own selves to the Lord ;" and only 
 
Christian Liberality. 303 
 
 second the gift of their time, their strength, their 
 talents, and their substance to His service. The 
 altar was first erected in their souls, and then the 
 gifts followed which were sanctified by the altar. 
 They were first consecrated and set apart as a royal 
 priesthood, and then the spiritual sacrifices were pre- 
 sented by them, so as to be acceptable and well- 
 pleasing in the sight of God. 
 
 That such truly is the order of procedure which 
 the Lord requires, and which can be alone expected 
 to meet with His acceptance, must be obvious to 
 every one who takes an enlightened and Scriptural 
 view of the Divine character and government. 
 
 God does not ask of us our gifts and services on 
 their own account, as if He stood in need of them, or 
 as if He could be profited by them. Indeed, we can 
 give Him nothing, but what we first receive from 
 Him ; and can do for Him nothing but what His 
 power enables us to perform. It is He who worketh 
 all our works in us. And even when we have 
 served Him to our uttermost, we are obliged to say, 
 it is altogether of His own that we have rendered to 
 Him. We should therefore be forming a most 
 unreasonable and highly derogatory notion of the 
 great God, were we to suppose that our services can 
 be approved of as having an intrinsic value in His 
 sight, apart from that spirit of loving devotedness to 
 Him, of which He regards them as the natural and 
 fit expressions. If God were " altogether such an 
 one " as ourselves — a weak, limited, dependent crea- 
 ture, we might then be more excusable for imagining 
 that He prizes the doings and offerings of His people 
 apart from the source or principle from which they 
 
304 Self-Dedication mid 
 
 flow. But when we remember that He is the self- 
 existent Jehovah, to whom no created goodness can 
 extend, and no created power or wisdom can be 
 profitable, we cannot for one moment cherish such 
 a thought. He is not in the position of an earthly 
 Master, requiring the ministrations of those whom 
 He employs, and caring but little for the motives of 
 their service, as compared with the substantial advan- 
 tages He derives from it. He is rather in the position 
 of a Father, who smiles on the cordial endeavours 
 of His little children, not because He needs them, — 
 not because He is benefited by them, — not because 
 He could not do for Himself, in much less time, with 
 much less trouble, and in a far more perfect manner, 
 that which He sees them labouring hard to do, and 
 with all their labour doing most inadequately; — but 
 because He traces their every effort to its impelling 
 motive, — because He sees in it an evidence of their 
 love, — because He hails it as a pledge of that entire 
 and cheerful submission with which their hearts are 
 yielded to Him. 
 
 Accordingly,we find that, in the Gospel, the method 
 which God takes in order to secure our service, is, 
 first of all, to win that surrender of the heart, which 
 leads to the practical obedience of the whole conduct. 
 Works do not occupy the foreground in the Christian 
 system. They are, on the contrary, the final result 
 to which it leads. In this dispensation of grace God 
 does not come to us, stipulating at the outset for 
 certain works or certain gifts, as the terms on which 
 His favour shall be conferred upon us. He comes 
 to us with such free offers of His mercy, and such 
 unsolicited assurances of His love, as are calculated 
 
Christian Liberality. 305 
 
 to inspire our confidence, to win our affection, to 
 secure our devotedness, and, as the practical issue 
 of the whole, to stir up our hearts to unreserved 
 obedience. 
 
 We find, too, in full accordance with the same 
 principle, that God, in His Word, requires of His 
 professed people this consecration to Him of "their 
 own selves," in terms so broad and absolute as 
 plainly show that nothing short of it can meet with 
 His approval. " Yield yourselves unto God as those 
 that are alive from the dead ; and your members as 
 instruments of righteousness unto God." " Present 
 your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto 
 God, which is your reasonable service." " Ye are not 
 your own ; for ye are bought with a price ; therefore 
 glorify God in your body and in your spirit, which 
 are God's." From these, and other passages of like 
 import, which are of the most common occurrence, it 
 is plain that God requires of all who would acceptably 
 serve Him, that their own selves, and not merely their 
 performances, be devoted to Him. It is the homage 
 of the heart that He demands ; and with nothing 
 short of it will He be satisfied. We may give Him 
 the ear, to listen to His Word ; we may give Him the 
 tongue, to utter forth His praise; we may give Him 
 the hand, to labour in His service; we may give, 
 no matter to how considerable an extent, our time, 
 strength, talents, or property, to be turned to such 
 practical uses as are prescribed by Him ; — but all will 
 not do, if the heart be still withheld. 'Not yours, but 
 you' is His peremptory requirement, — a requirement 
 which He will not relax nor compromise. He will 
 not be mocked by all our efforts to evade it. Nothing 
 
 u 
 
3o6 Self-Dedication and 
 
 we may do, and nothing we may give^ will ever, in 
 His judgment, be held as a substitute for the unre- 
 served surrender of ourselves in subjection to His will 
 and subserviency to His glory. 
 
 It is to the utter forgetfulness of this truth that 
 many of those gross delusions may be traced, by 
 which the ungodly have frequently deceived them- 
 selves, and many of those superstitions and corrup- 
 tions, by which the simplicity of pure religion has 
 been perverted. There is nothing to which ** the 
 carnal mind," in its " enmity against God," is more 
 determinedly opposed, than just this absolute yield- 
 ing of itself to Him, without which no other perform- 
 ances can be accepted. Accordingly men, in all ages 
 and in all countries, have eagerly sought after some 
 manner of substitute for it. Costly have been the 
 gifts, wearisome the labours, solemn and highly impos- 
 ing the outward forms, painful and mortifying the 
 penances and austerities, by which they have striven 
 (as if it were possible) to pacify their consciences, and 
 to satisfy the claims of God, without that thorough 
 stirrender of themselves, from which they are natu- 
 rally disposed to shrink with such aversion. Nor 
 is it only among heathens or among Jews that this 
 disposition of the " carnal mind " has shown itself 
 Even among those who call themselves Christians, 
 and not only so, but enlightened Protestant Christians, 
 the same superstitious tendency may be discovered. 
 For it is not to be questioned, that even among such 
 persons, there are not a few to be met with at the 
 present day, who observe rigidly the Sabbath, — who 
 attend regularly on Divine ordinances, — who read as 
 a prescribed task large portions of Holy Writ, — and 
 
Christian Liberality. ofTj 
 
 who give, as often as occasion is afforded them, 
 munificent contributions to charitable or pious pur- 
 poses ; — but who do all this just as a species of com- 
 pensation for keeping back from God the offering 
 of themselves. So far they are acting under the 
 influence of the same spirit which sought, in a ruder 
 age, to evade God's righteous claim by carrying the 
 most precious treasures to His shrine, or slaying the 
 most approved victims at His altar, or filling His 
 temple with clouds of sweetest incense, — by fasts, and 
 forms, and prayers, and penances, or, in short, by 
 any outward means that might be thought of, as a 
 substitute for the homage of the heart. 
 
 You know well, however, that God has never been 
 mocked, and you cannot think that He ever will be 
 mocked, by any such evasion of His requirements. 
 Even in the times of ceremonial worship, and in the 
 very midst of bleeding victims and blazing altars, 
 which then held a recognised place in the Divine 
 ritual, — even then was Jehovah wont to proclaim that, 
 in the absence of a holy and devoted heart, all the 
 oblations of His worshippers were in vain, that the 
 multitude of their sacrifices was a weariness to Him, 
 that their solemn rites and festivals were an abomi- 
 nation. Even in those times was the question put : 
 " Hath the Lord as great delight in burnt-offerings 
 and sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord ? " 
 And the answerwas most explicitly returned to it : " Be- 
 hold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to hearken 
 than the fat of rams." Much more, then, in the ful- 
 ness of these Christian times, when the complicated 
 forms of Judaism have been done away, and a simple 
 and purely spiritual worship has been substituted for 
 
3o8 Self-Dedication and 
 
 them, much more may it be now said that no mere 
 gifts, or ceremonies, or external performances, can 
 be recognised as any compensation for the "living 
 sacrifice " of a heart and will freely devoted to the 
 Lord's service. 
 
 You know that God, in estimating all our doings, 
 looks not so much to the mere outward conduct, as 
 to the inward spirit or disposition from which it flows. 
 It is the " cheerful giver " that He loves, the hearty 
 and willing servant that He delights in. But givers 
 and servants of snch a spirit are to be found only 
 among those who \\.7sn^ first of all given to Him " their 
 own selves!' 
 
 We find this exemplified even in the Old Testament. 
 Thus, when the tabernacle was to be erected in the 
 wilderness, Moses thus spake to all the congregation 
 of Israel : " This is the thing which the Lord com- 
 manded, saying. Take ye from among you an offering 
 unto the Lord : whosoever is of a willing heart, let 
 him bring it." " Of every man that giveth it willingly 
 with his heart, ye shall take my offering. And they 
 came," it is written, ^^ every one whose heart stirred him 
 np, and every one whom his spirit made willing ; and 
 they brought the Lord's offering to the work of the 
 tabernacle ; they brought a willing offering unto 
 the Lord, every man and woman whose heart made 
 them willing to bring." In like manner, David, 
 when making preparations for the temple at Jerusa- 
 lem, which his son Solomon was honoured to build, 
 declared, that he had prepared with all his might 
 for the rearing of the house of his God, because he 
 had set his affection thereto ; and asked the people, 
 
Christian Libcnility. 309 
 
 saying : " Who then is willing to consecrate his 
 service this day unto the Lord ? " Whereupon, 
 we are told, that " the chief of the fathers and 
 princes of the tribes of Israel . . . offered willingly. 
 Then the people rejoiced for that they offered will- 
 ingly, because with perfect heart they offered will- 
 ingly to the Lord ; and David the king also rejoiced 
 with great joy." 
 
 Exactly similar to these two instances is that which 
 is brought before us in the text. Here, too, it was a 
 free and spontaneous offering that was presented ; 
 and this circumstance is mentioned by the Apostle as 
 one of the most excellent features that distinguished 
 it. For he writes that the Christians of Macedonia 
 " were willing of themselves ; praying us with much 
 entreaty, that we would receive the gift." And, no 
 doubt, the reason, in this as in the other instances, why 
 their gifts were of that voluntary and cheerful kind 
 which can alone meet with a favourable reception, 
 was that a dedication of '* their own selves " had pre- 
 ceded them. The donors had first of all given them- 
 selves to the Lord ; and having done so, it was quite 
 easy and natural for them to give to Him that which 
 only appertained to themselves. The self-surrender 
 of the person being once made, a surrender of the 
 property followed as a matter of course, to whatsoever 
 extent the Lord's service might require it of them. 
 The reason why many persons give so grudgingly, or 
 work so reluctantly for the cause of Christ, is because 
 they have not given up themselves to Him. They 
 have not begun aright. They have not observed the 
 proper method, of first giving themselves, and then 
 
3IO Self-Dedication and 
 
 presenting their offerings. And hence It is that there 
 is so much coldness, and sluggishness, and heartless- 
 ness, in everything they are induced to do. 
 
 Let not such persons imagine for a moment that 
 their unwilling homage will meet with the Divine ac- 
 ceptance. The Scriptures teach us, that the cordial- 
 ity of our offerings is of far greater moment in the 
 sight of God than the amount of them. The poor 
 widow's two mites, which she cast into the treasury, 
 were more highly esteemed than the rich gifts of her 
 fellow-worshippers. And St Paul declares, in the 
 chapter from which our text is taken, that " if there be 
 first a willijig mind, it is accepted according to that 
 a man hath, and not according to that he hath not." 
 And why, indeed, should we think that it can be other- 
 wise } There is not a parent among you who would 
 be content with receiving a heartless obedience from 
 your children. You would not be content with the 
 compliance of their hands, if all the while you could 
 not help seeing that the affection of their hearts was 
 obstinately withheld from you. The sullenness^of 
 their alienated countenances, and the ill-suppressed 
 rebellion of their spirits, would altogether mar your 
 satisfaction with them, even although the tasks you 
 had prescribed should be, to the last item, punctually 
 executed. Now, it is even so with our Father who 
 is in heaven. He requireth, above all, " truth in the 
 inward parts." " My son, give me thine heart," is 
 what He asks of us ; and except we have truly com- 
 plied with this demand, He values not any extent of 
 labours we may perform, or any amount of offerings 
 we may present to Him. 
 
 Let us bear this truth. Brethren, constantly in mind, 
 
Christian Liberality. 3 1 1 
 
 and be guided by it in everything we do^ and in 
 everything we give, for the furtherance of the work of 
 the Lord. As well in the everyday course of our 
 Christian duties, as on those special occasions when 
 we are called to contribute towards the diffusion of 
 Divine truth, whether in our own native country or in 
 the world at large, let us carefully remember, that no 
 gifts and no efforts can be expected to meet with the 
 Lord's acceptance, unless they proceed out of the ful- 
 ness of a heart inspired with His love and devoted to 
 His service. Before we can dedicate our substance 
 or our service to Him in such a way as shall meet 
 with His approval, we must in the first place dedicate 
 to Him ourselves. We must follow the example set 
 by the Churches of Macedonia, when " first they gave 
 their own selves unto the Lord," and then gave liber- 
 ally of their substance for His cause. 
 
 n. Having thus endeavoured to illustrate xh^Jirst 
 proposition, suggested for our consideration by the 
 text, — namely, that self-dedication to the Lord is a ne- 
 cessary pre-requisite to His acceptance of any such gifts 
 or services as we may render to Him ; we come now, 
 in like manner, to illustrate our second propositiofi, 
 which is the converse of the former one, — namely, 
 that the presentation of our gifts and services to the 
 Lord, cheerfdly and bountifully, to the full extent of 
 our ability, is a necessary result of the yielding of our- 
 selves to Him, wherever we have do7ie it in sincerity. 
 
 This point, indeed, may appear to be so obvious as 
 to place it altogether beyond the reach of doubt, and 
 scarcely to leave room for argument to establish it. 
 And certainly it is obvious — obvious to such a degree, 
 
312 Self- Dedication and 
 
 that the bare statement of it ought to carry conviction 
 to every seriously reflecting and ingenuous mind. 
 
 And yet, however clear and palpable it may seem 
 to be, it is too often practically overlooked or set at 
 defiance ; for it is not to be questioned that many 
 persons are wont to live as if their Self-dedication to 
 the Lord were nothing more than a matter of decent 
 ceremony, conveying no real meaning, and leading to 
 no substantial result. 
 
 All Christians profess to have given themselves to 
 the Lord. They know and acknowledge that such a 
 self-surrender is implied in that very exercise oi faith, 
 whereby, on receiving the benefits of redemption, they 
 necessarily assume the positio7i, and incur the obliga- 
 tions, of the Loj'-ds redeemed. 
 
 Nor is it in the way of mere implication that this 
 self-surrender on their part has been made. Many 
 of them have made it explicitly and avowedly. Again 
 and again have they observed solemn rites and made 
 open professions, in which it was declared by them. 
 And in a more particular manner by celebrating the 
 Holy Ordinance of the Supper, after all due certifica- 
 tion of its import, they have separated themselves 
 unto the Lord, — pledged themselves to be faithful to 
 His service, — and vowed that henceforth their bodies 
 and their spirits should be subject to His will and 
 subservient to His glory. Yet, in the case of too 
 many who have done so, it is certainly no breach of 
 charity to say, that in their daily conduct you see 
 little or nothing from which you could be led to sup- 
 pose that any such solemn act of self-devotion had 
 been performed by them. You never would think, 
 from ought that you could see in them, of pointing 
 
Christian Liberality. 313 
 
 them out as a peculiar and purchased people, — a 
 people who are evidently " not their own," but God's, 
 and who heartily feel and acknowledge that they are 
 so. This may be the import of Xh^vc professions and 
 observances ; but in the case of many of them we are 
 forced to say, that it is certainly not the import of 
 their condtict. For, let but the Lord, " whose they 
 are, and whom they serve," as they are wont to de- 
 clare to us, put them to the test, — let Him but try 
 their devotedness to Him, how far it is sincere, either 
 by subjecting them to some course of discipline or 
 by prescribing to them some course of duty which 
 does not fall in with their own natural inclinations, — 
 let Him but take away from them in His providence 
 any of those cherished objects in respect to which 
 they profess to have placed themselves wholly at His 
 disposal, — or let Him claim from them, for the further- 
 ance of His cause and kingdom, any considerable 
 portion of that time, or strength, or influence, or sub- 
 stance, in respect of which they profess to be His 
 mere stewards, subject to His will, and accountable 
 at His judgment-seat for the manner in which their 
 trust has been discharged, — and oh, how soon is it 
 made to appear, by their murmuring and reluctance, 
 if not by their wilful rebellion, that there must have 
 been no inconsiderable measure of insincerity or 
 duplicity in their professions, and that they could 
 not have intended in their hearts that God should take 
 them at their word, when they formally gave them- 
 selves up to Him as a living sacrifice, and bound them- 
 selves to Him in a sacred and perpetual covenant ! 
 
 Very different was it with the persons who are 
 honourably commended in the text. In their case. 
 
314 Self-Dedication and 
 
 truly, the giving ** of their own selves" was something 
 more than a decent and imposing form. There was 
 a true mea7ting in it, and a real sincerity about it. 
 It was what they honestly purposed in their hearts, 
 and were fully prepared to verify by their conduct. 
 
 Let us just look again at the course which they 
 pursued, so clearly and fully expressive as it thus 
 was, of their devotedness. 
 
 They testified the sincerity of their love to God 
 by a generous and self-denying love towards their 
 brethren. They had not forgotten the words of the 
 Lord Jesus, how He taught — " Inasmuch as ye have 
 done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, 
 ye have done it unto me." And gladly did they avail 
 themselves of His permission to make their poor 
 brethren in some measure the recipients of that mighty 
 debt of gratitude which they owed to Him. 
 
 It was for the relief of temporal wants that they 
 contributed — the wants of the persecuted disciples at 
 Jerusalem, who had been reduced by the violence of 
 their enemies to the utmost extreme of wretchedness 
 and destitution. We cannot doubt that the same 
 spirit which prompted them to supply the pressing 
 necessities of the body would lead them no less cheer- 
 fully, when called upon, to minister to the necessities 
 of the soul. And certainly their example lends no 
 countenance to those who, professing to be wonder- 
 fully zealous for the moral and spiritual elevation of 
 their fellow-creatures, appear to have no considera- 
 tion for their temporal hardships, and usually have 
 nothing but Christian advices and consolations where- 
 with to answer the appeal of a brother or sister who 
 is naked and wretched, and destitute of daily food. 
 
Christian Liberality. 315 
 
 You will farther notice that the object was a dis- 
 tant one, in behalf of which their bounty was dis- 
 played. Their donations were for the benefit of 
 persons who lived a far way off, and with whom they 
 had never had any personal intercourse. They might 
 have excused themselves from contributing on this 
 account. They might have said that they had objects 
 enough at home, and that there was no need of going 
 abroad to seek them. They certainly would have 
 excused themselves by such a plea had they been 
 like-minded with some modern Christians, whose 
 charity not only begins but ends at home, and who 
 think it altogether unreasonable if we ask them to do 
 or give anything for the diffusion of Divine truth 
 among the heathen, who are sitting in gross dark- 
 ness in foreign lands, or even among their own 
 fellow-countrymen in the British colonies. But it 
 seems that the consideration of distance had not that 
 weight with the Christians of Macedonia which it has 
 with too many Christians in Britain. They felt that 
 wherever human beings were to be found, to whom 
 they might in any way be serviceable, thither must 
 their sympathies extend — thither must their efforts 
 be directed. 
 
 It is still more important, however, to observe the 
 circumstances in which their liberality was thus dis- 
 played. It was in a time of " great affliction " and 
 of " deep poverty." A violent persecution had re- 
 cently been endured by them. They had suffered 
 the spoiling of their goods for Christ's sake. And 
 the ordinary courses of their industry had been dis- 
 turbed, so that it was not without much difficulty that 
 they could hope to retrieve the losses they had sus- 
 
o 
 
 1 6 Self-Dedication and 
 
 tained, or even to alleviate the immediate wants that 
 pressed upon them. In these circumstances it is a 
 wonder, not only that they should have given liber- 
 ally, but even that they should have given at all. 
 Persons enduring " a great trial of affliction " are 
 usually so stunned by their own calamities, and so 
 entirely engrossed with their own hardships, as to 
 have little of either leisure or inclination to care for 
 the distresses of other men. And if they be also in 
 a state of " deep poverty ^^ they seem to be exempted 
 from every call of charity. The shedding of a tear 
 of pity, or the utterance of a word of commisera- 
 tion, is as much as can be expected from them in 
 such circumstances. Yet such was the very condi- 
 tion of the Macedonians at the time when they 
 exhibited that pattern of beneficence, by which the 
 wealthy disciples at Corinth were stirred up to a holy 
 emulation. In the midst of their " great trial of 
 affliction " they experienced an " abundance of joy," 
 which bore them up under the pressure of their 
 adversities, and proved, as " the joy of the Lord " al- 
 ways does, to be " their strength." And '* their deep 
 poverty abounded unto the riches of their liberality." 
 That is to say, they gave, out of their poor supplies, 
 that which in God's estimate was held to be abun- 
 dant riches. They exemplified the truth of the 
 proverb, that " Where there is a will there is always 
 a way." Having it honestly in their hearts to give, 
 they contrived by means of earnestness, economy, 
 and self-denial to get it into their power to give. 
 And their gifts were offered in that cheerful and 
 liberal spirit which renders everything, however 
 
Christian Liberality. 31-7 
 
 small, that flows from it, an '* odour of a sweet smell, 
 a sacrifice acceptable, well-pleasing to God." 
 
 And this suggests the farther observation, that 
 these Macedonians were hearty and spontaneous 
 givers. They did not wait to be solicited or impor- 
 tuned. All the urgency was on their own side. 
 They gave in anticipation of Paul's request, as well 
 as beyond his most sanguine expectations. " To 
 their power," he says, *' yea, and beyond their power, 
 they were willhig of themselves ; praying us with 
 much entreaty that we would receive the gift, and 
 take upon us the fellowship of the ministering to 
 the saints." 
 
 Now the reason of all this, as we have already 
 seen, was no other than the Self -dedication which had 
 preceded it. These benevolent men had first of all 
 been led to make a full surrender of themselves unto 
 the Lord. And having done so, they were thor- 
 oughly furnished for every good work to which they 
 might be called. The greater gift of ''their own 
 selves" which they had first presented, was easily, 
 and, indeed, unavoidably followed by the lesser gift 
 of their service and their substance. Or rather, I 
 should say, the one gift included the other. It was 
 not an additional sacrifice they were making ; it was 
 but a part of their first and great sacrifice, — a com- 
 pletion of its amount, or an expression of its sincer- 
 ity. They felt that in yielding themselves to the 
 Lord, they had in effect said to Him and to His 
 Church that they were willing to be offered up, on 
 the sacrifice and service of their faith, at whatever 
 time, and in whatever way, it might by the will of 
 
31 8 Self-Dedication, &c. 
 
 God be proposed to them. And accordingly, when 
 a special call was made, whether It might be for gifts 
 to be conferred, or service to be done, or sufferings 
 to be endured, they held themselves ready with all 
 cheerfulness to comply with It, and felt that in so 
 doing, even to the uttermost, they were only striving 
 in some measure to Implement their previous act of 
 self-devotion to their Lord and Saviour. 
 
 Well would it be for the interests of godliness, as 
 well as for the prevalence of true charity and philan- 
 thropy, were Christians, in these present days, en- 
 abled by Divine grace to imitate so bright a pattern. 
 Oh that the spirit of these men of Macedonia would 
 come over and help us ! Then should ourselves, and 
 all that pertains to us, be unreservedly consecrated 
 to the Lord. Then should there be no more of that 
 indifference to His claims, — no more of that backward- 
 ness in His service, — of which we have so often had 
 reason to be ashamed. Then should we no longfer 
 grudge Him our stinted gifts, or put Him off with 
 perfunctory observances ; while the utmost we can 
 do, and the best that we can give, are lavished on 
 the vanities and pleasures of the world. Then should 
 we deem no services too laborious, no offerings too 
 costly, no sacrifices too great, by which we might 
 show the sincerity of our devotedness to Him and to 
 His cause. 
 
319 
 
 XVII. 
 
 THE SABBATH A GIFT OF GOD.* 
 
 " The Lord hath given you the Sabbath." — Exodus, xvi. 29. 
 
 We learn from the context that " on the seventh day," 
 in open defiance of the prohibition laid upon them, 
 certain of the Israelites had gone to gather manna 
 and "found none." The Lord was sorely displeased 
 with them for so wanton a violation of His com- 
 mandment ; and in rebuking them for their conduct, 
 reminded them of the provision He had made to 
 guard the seventh day from being thus profaned, by 
 supplying a double portion of manna on the day 
 preceding. " See," He said, ** for that the Lord hath 
 given you the Sabbath^ therefore He giveth you on 
 the sixth day the bread of two days : abide ye every 
 man in his place ; let no man go out of his place 
 on the seventh day." The expression here used 
 with reference to the Sabbath is worthy of special 
 remark. It is spoken of as the gift of God. It 
 is not so much a restriction imposed as a privilege 
 conferred, — a day, not taken from man, but given to 
 him. Elsewhere the Sabbath Is often represented 
 as that portion of time which God has reserved 
 
 * This Sermon was written in 1846. 
 
320 The Sabbath a Gift of God. 
 
 and appropriated exclusively to Himself, and which 
 He will not permit us to invade. But in the text 
 it is represented as a portion of time, which God 
 has in a peculiar sense allotted to His people ; and the 
 arrangement made to preclude the necessity of follow- 
 ing their ordinary avocations during the course of 
 it, is viewed as a special provision to preserve its 
 blessed privilege undiminished and unimpaired. The 
 Lord ''\i'a,\}i\ given the Sabbath;" and it is because 
 He has given it, and because He wishes those to 
 whom it is given to have the full advantage of it, and 
 cannot bear to see them throwing it away, that He 
 here describes Himself as taking such precautions 
 to guard its hallowed rest from secular encroachments. 
 In this respect, the view of our text is in full 
 accordance with that of other passages of Scripture. 
 Thus, for example, Nehemiah, in recounting various 
 instances of God's kindness to His ancient people, 
 mentions this as one of the most "notable, "Thou 
 madest known unto them Thy holy Sabbath." And 
 the Lord Himself, when reminding them through the 
 Prophet Ezekiel of those manifold tokens of His 
 love which they had in time past so ungratefully 
 requited, alludes to His having favoured them with 
 this ordinance as one of the most important of their 
 privileges : " Moreover also," He says, " I gave them 
 my Sabbaths, to be a sign between me and them, 
 that they might know that I am the Lord that 
 sanctify them." In these passages, as well as in 
 the text, the institution of the Sabbath is represented 
 in the light of a great blessing for which we ought 
 to be thankful, rather than of a peremptory require- 
 ment to which, as a matter of mere duty, we are 
 
The Sabbath a Gift of God. 32 1 
 
 obliged to yield. And in prescribing the regular 
 observance of it, the Lord of the Sabbath seeks 
 the promotion no less effectually of our good than of 
 His own glory. 
 
 That this representation is a just one, must be 
 apparent, if we consider, however slightly, the nature 
 and purposes of the hallowed institution itself. 
 
 I. Even the seatlar advantages of the Day of rest, 
 apart from all consideration of its spiritual benefits, 
 are of themselves almost sufficient to bear out the 
 view which is given of it in the text. For although 
 the Sabbath were to be regarded in no higher light 
 than as a grateful interval of repose from the ordinary 
 cares and pursuits of human life, it would still com- 
 mend itself to every reflecting mind, as an eminently 
 wise and salutary institution, most worthy of that 
 God who taketh care of man and beast, and whose 
 " tender mercies are over all His works." The primal 
 sentence, by which man was doomed to eat bread 
 in the sweat of his brow, meets in this beneficent 
 ordinance with a needful and pleasing alleviation. 
 We have here a regularly recurring intermission of 
 that continual drudgery of daily toil, by which other- 
 wise the over-stretched energies of body and of mind 
 might be enfeebled or exhausted. A blessed season 
 of relaxation is afforded us, a refreshing pause, a 
 grateful breathing-time, in which our wasted faculties 
 may be repaired, and the dull routine of life varied 
 and enlivened. The toil-worn labourer or artisan 
 can hail the weekly return of this season, as a period 
 which, so far as man is concerned, he feels himself en- 
 titled to call his own. When he rests from the labours 
 
 X 
 
322 The Sabbath a Gift of God. 
 
 of his calling, lays aside the implements of his indus- 
 try, changes his apparel, unbends his weary limbs, 
 enjoys repose in the bosom of his family, and 
 takes sweet counsel with those who are in this world 
 the nearest and dearest to him, — he has good cause, 
 as all will readily allow, to bless God for having 
 "given him the Sabbath." Nor is it only to the 
 more humble and laborious part of mankind that the 
 day of rest is in this respect beneficial. Those 
 whom Providence has exempted from manual toil 
 are likewise in an equal degree, — except in so far as 
 they wilfully forsake their own mercies, — indebted to 
 it. For the mind, no less than the body, requires its 
 stated seasons of relaxation, and cannot retain its 
 vigour unimpaired, without some variety in its pur- 
 suits, and some relief from the pressure of its wonted 
 cares, such as the weekly return of the Sabbath 
 brings along with it. Of every class of the com- 
 munity it may be said, that their bodily health, 
 their intellectual energy, their personal comfort, their 
 domestic happiness, are all eminently promoted by 
 the rest of this hallowed Day. Great, certainly, are 
 the social and civil benefits that result from it, by plac- 
 ing the rich and the poor upon a common footing, pro- 
 moting peace, encouraging charity, cultivating habits 
 of decency and order, and tending to establish among 
 all ranks of the people those principles of pure and 
 undefiled religion, which are the surest bulwarks of 
 national prosperity. Who then, we may well ask, 
 would be so foolish or so malignant, even in a worldly 
 sense, as to wish this salutary institution done away .'* 
 How heavily and cheerlessly would day after day 
 revolve, without those grateful intervals which it 
 
The Sabbath a Gift of God. 323 
 
 affords us ! In losing it, how much would we also 
 lose of that which is most conducive even to our 
 temporal welfare ! Truly may it be affirmed that 
 the most enlarged philanthropy could not have devised 
 any means, at once so simple and so efficacious, of 
 promoting the comfort and happiness of human beings, 
 for the life that now is, as the Lord has Himself done 
 in giving us the Sabbath. And great cause have 
 we, in this respect, to bless Him for setting apart 
 each seventh day as a day of rest, — a day in which 
 some respite may be given us from that toil which is 
 the ordinary portion of humanity, — when the hand of 
 the labourer may cease from his work and the foot of 
 the traveller pause in his journey, — when the schemes 
 of the enterprising, the researches of the studious, 
 the anxieties of the public official, may all alike be 
 laid aside ; — when, in short, the ordinary business of 
 life may be suspended, its tumult hushed, and its 
 cares awhile forgotten. 
 
 n. In estimating the value of this gift of God, 
 however, we ought not to confine our view to the 
 merely secular advantages attendant on it : we must 
 bear in mind that the purposes for which the Sabbath 
 has been " given " are chiefly of a spiritual nature, 
 and that peculiar and pre-eminent spiritual benefits 
 accrtte from the possession of it. 
 
 There are too many persons to be met with at the 
 present day, who are quite ready to prize the Sabbath 
 as a season of Rest, while yet they have no estima- 
 tion of its importance as a season of hallowed wor- 
 ship and of religious improvement ; nay, there are 
 some who are very much inclined to exalt its subor- 
 
324 The Sabbath a Gift of God. 
 
 dinate far above its highest ends, and actually to 
 urge their anxiety to secure the full benefit of that 
 relaxation which the Sabbath-day affords them, as 
 a ground for adopting or for tolerating practices 
 which may amount to the grossest profanation of its 
 sanctity. They seem to think that men should have 
 every facility given them for seeking their own plea- 
 sure on this holy day. And as often as this facility 
 is withheld, or any restriction is proposed to be put 
 on certain prevailing modes of Sabbath profanation, 
 they murmur as if their civil liberty were invaded, — 
 they complain of every such restriction as a grievous 
 hardship to all, and more especially to the labouring 
 classes, as hindering them from the enjoyment of 
 those pleasures and recreations, in which they are 
 supposed to be naturally anxious to indulge on the 
 only day when they have leisure to partake of them. 
 Let us ever remember, however, that the Sabbath, 
 though a day of rest from the ordinary cares and oc- 
 cupations of human life, is not intended to be a day 
 of mere idleness, far less to be a day of unhallowed 
 amusement or carnal gratification. It '* was made 
 for man," not as a sojourner in this present world 
 merely, but above all as a traveller to the world that 
 is to come. It is to spiritual, immortal, and account- 
 able creatures that the Lord has " given the Sabbath." 
 He has given it to ike sozcl r Either than to the body. 
 Indeed He may be said to have taken it from the 
 body in order that it might be given to the soul. He 
 has rescued it from the concerns of time that it might 
 be appropriated to the interests of eternity. And 
 His design is, that mankind should promote the wel- 
 fare of their souls by the right use of this day, even 
 
The Sabbath a Gift of God. 325 
 
 more diligently than they are accustomed to provide 
 for the sustenance of their bodies by the labour of the 
 other six days. For it is then, wherever the true 
 God is known, that men are privileged to lift up their 
 minds from the dust, — to withdraw from that stir and 
 bustle of the world, in which God and religion are 
 apt to be forgotten by them, to enjoy those oppor- 
 tunities of social worship and of religious instruction, 
 essential to the institution, which cannot at any other 
 period be regularly, conveniently, and efficiently ob- 
 served in common, — and thus to attend, without dis- 
 traction, and with all their spiritual powers and affec- 
 tions in fullest exercise, to those more important 
 things which belong unto their peace. The preval- 
 ence of pure religion throughout the world is, under 
 God, to be ascribed in a great degree to no other 
 cause than the institution of the Sabbath. And it 
 cannot be doubted that were this Divine ordinance, 
 with all its attendant means of spiritual instruction, 
 to be abolished, or even in any material degree to be 
 widely and systematically profaned, the form as well 
 as the power of godliness would speedily disappear 
 from the earth. Mankind would then, even in Chris- 
 tian countries, have no counteracting influence ade- 
 quate to check the corrupting tendency of earthly 
 cares, and employments, and gratifications. Amid the 
 continual and unintermitted secularity of their whole 
 lives from day to day, they mJght for a while, per- 
 haps, catch at stray moments in order to give heed to 
 the welfare of their souls, but soon would the fitful 
 effort be abandoned, — soon would the concerns of 
 sense and of time assume the entire and undisputed 
 dominion over them, while the claims of God and the 
 
326 The Sabbath a Gift of God. 
 
 interests of eternity would be altogether excluded 
 from their thoughts. We know by experience how 
 mighty is the influence which the world and the 
 things of the world exert upon us, — how powerfully 
 they tend to draw us from God, — to efface all serious 
 impressions from our hearts, — and to impede us in 
 the pursuit of spiritual and heavenly blessings. The 
 most devout Christians will readily admit, and find 
 constant reason to lament, the proneness of their own 
 deceitful hearts to be occupied too much with what 
 is visible and temporal, and too little with what is 
 unseen and eternal, — and the difficulty they expe- 
 rience, even with all the aid which the stated recur- 
 rence of the Sabbath affords them, in keeping alive 
 a sense of religion within their souls. But if so, then 
 how vast an accession ofpower would worldly objects 
 obtain over them, were the counteracting influence of 
 the holy Sabbath taken away ! What then could be 
 looked for, but that in the midst of an uninterrupted 
 round of business or of pleasure, the spirit of the 
 mind should be thoroughly secularised, and that the 
 fire of Christian principle and feeling kindled in the 
 sanctuary of the heart, should either expire for want 
 of proper fuel to support it, or be smothered beneath 
 the constant accumulation of the dross and rubbish of 
 the mere earthly life ? But thanks be to God who 
 hath given us this holy Day, we are called at regular 
 intervals, as it returns, to withdraw from that en- 
 grossing pursuit of worldly gains or pleasures which 
 else might have proved so fatal to our best interests, 
 and to join in all those sacred exercises of prayer, and 
 praise, and instruction, and meditation, by which our 
 languishing graces may be revived and our heaven- 
 
The Sabbath a Gift of God. 327 
 
 ward progress quickened and advanced. We are 
 powerfully reminded of that God whom we must 
 serve, — that Saviour on whom we must rely, — that 
 work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of 
 hope, in which we must engage, — that endless portion 
 of blessedness and glory which it so greatly concerns 
 us to secure. And instead of labouring, as at other 
 times, for " the meat which perisheth," we are then 
 summoned to labour still more assiduously for the 
 meat " which endureth unto everlasting life." 
 
 Even to ungodly men this sacred institution is not 
 without its value, though they know it not. It is to 
 them in an eminently emphatic sense " the accepted 
 time and the day of salvation." It is a continual wit- 
 ness to them in behalf of God. It addresses to them, 
 from week to week, a solemn though silent appeal on 
 the subject of their highest concernments. Its very 
 peacefulness may be said to speak to them, as with a 
 still small voice, inviting them to serious and devout 
 reflection ; and the various means of grace which it 
 places within their reach are in a peculiar manner 
 fitted, by the Divine blessing, to turn them from the 
 evil of their ways, and to build them up in holiness 
 and comfort through faith unto salvation. But it is 
 
 o 
 
 more especially to believers that the value of this 
 precious " gift " of God commends itself. To those, 
 indeed, who are earnestly striving to work out their 
 own salvation with fear and trembling, — who are 
 deeply alive to the importance of religion, and feel, 
 from day to day, the common concerns of life to be 
 not only matters of utter insignificance in comparison 
 with the one thing needful, but even vexatious 
 annoyances and serious hindrances In the way of their 
 
328 The Sabbath a Gift of God. 
 
 spiritual advancement, — to such persons, truly, the 
 institution of the Sabbath has a value which it would 
 not be easy to over-estimate. To them it affords the 
 most favourable opportunities for prosecuting that all- 
 important work, in which their whole hearts are ear- 
 nestly and fully engaged, and on which they feel their 
 true happiness, as well in time as through eternity, to 
 be dependent. It frees them from those impediments 
 of a worldly nature by which at other times they are 
 prevented from running the race set before them with 
 all the alacrity and steadiness that they could wish. 
 It is to their souls a season of reviving, in which they 
 may repair those injuries which have been sustained 
 in the conflicts of the past, and in which they may 
 prepare for the endurance of trials yet to come. It 
 is their time, not of rest only, but of nourishment, — 
 affording them by its varied exercises, whether of the 
 closet, the family, or the congregation, that rich pro- 
 vision for all their spiritual wants by which they may be 
 cheered and strengthened in their pilgrimage. It is pre- 
 eminently the day of their souls gain, — their golden 
 season for growing rich in all that truly constitutes 
 riches, — their special day of merchandise for the king- 
 dom of heaven, in which they may store up those in- 
 corruptible treasures, in comparison with which the 
 wealth of worlds is insignificant. I put it to all who 
 are spiritually-minded, whether such be not really 
 the character, and such the tendency, of this day of 
 hallowed rest, — whether it has not been found to 
 be one of the most efficient means, by the bles- 
 sing of God, of confirming and advancing in their 
 souls the principles of vital godliness, — whether it has 
 not been singularly instrumental in enlarging their 
 
The Sabbath a Gift of God. 329 
 
 knowledge, establishing their faith, enlivening their 
 hope, inflaming their love, and quickening their dili- 
 gence, — and whether, on considering how greatly 
 they are benefited by this most wise and beneficent 
 institution, their souls, and all that is within them, be 
 not stirred up to bless the Lord for having '■'■given 
 them the Sabbath." 
 
 III. But, in estimating the value of the Sabbath 
 as a gift of God, we must take into account, not 
 only the spiritual improvement arising from the use 
 of it, but also the spij'-itual comforts and delights whicJi 
 it is still more directly fitted to administer. 
 
 Apart altogether from the tendency of the Sabbath 
 to promote, in all who faithfully observe it, their 
 growth In grace and preparation for eternity, it affords 
 them, even now, such pure and exalted pleasure, as 
 they would not part with for a thousand times the 
 gain that might be acquired by perverting it to worldly 
 uses ; Insomuch, that from a regard to their own pre- 
 sent happiness, they would choose the observance of 
 the Sabbath as a blessed privilege, even did not Scrip- 
 ture and conscience prescribe it as an incumbent duty. 
 By all those whose hearts are right with God, this 
 holy day is prized as a time of especial refreshing 
 from His presence. Amid all the anxieties and 
 troubles of life they find in It, not only a quiet resting- 
 place, but a source of the fullest consolation and 
 support. It calls them to the enjoyment of privi- 
 leges the most exalted, and to the discharge of duties 
 the most congenial and delightful. It brings the most 
 pleasing recollections before their minds, and opens 
 up to them the brightest expectations. It invites 
 
330 The Sabbath a Gift of Goa. 
 
 them to the most intimate fellowship with that God 
 whom they supremely love, and that Redeemer in 
 whom they confidently trust, with no intervening 
 secular distractions to mar the peace and happiness 
 of their communion with Him. It affords them the 
 fullest opportunities they could wish of pouring out 
 their desires at a throne of grace for all those in- 
 estimable heavenly blessings which God's unlimited 
 power and never-failing wisdom and matchless love 
 embolden them to ask. It gives them leisure for 
 perusing with delight those lively oracles of God 
 which are able to make them wise unto salvation, 
 for pious converse with their fellow-Christians on 
 those Divine subjects in which they feel a common 
 interest, and for serious meditation on those blessed 
 truths with which their richest comforts for the pre- 
 sent, and their highest hopes for the future, are con- 
 nected. And summoning them to go up into the 
 house of God, it gladdens their hearts with the joy- 
 ful sound of the Gospel, and affords them in the 
 solemnities of social worship their purest foretaste on 
 this side the grave of the exercises and enjoyments 
 of the redeemed in heaven. One would think, that 
 even were there no commandment on the subject, a 
 bare permission to spend one day in seven in a manner 
 at once so pleasant and so profitable, would be re- 
 garded as a singular privilege, deserving our warmest 
 returns of gratitude and praise. Such must have been 
 the judgment of the devout Psalmist. How glowing 
 are his expressions of delight in the services of the 
 Lord's Day and the solemnities of the Lord's House ! 
 " This," he exclaims, " is the day which the Lord hath 
 made; we will rejoice and be glad in it!" " How amiable 
 
The Sabbath a Gift of God. 33 1 
 
 are Thy tabernacles, O Lord of Hosts ! My soul long- 
 eth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the Lord ; my 
 heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God ; " 
 " When shall I come and appear before God ? " " Thou 
 art my God ; early will I seek Thee : my soul thirsteth 
 for Thee, my flesh longeth for Thee in a dry and 
 thirsty land, where no water is ; to see Thy power and 
 Thy glory, so as I have seen Thee in the sanctuary;" 
 " A day in Thy courts is better than a thousand ; " 
 *' One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I 
 seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord 
 all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the 
 Lord, and to enquire in His temple." In these de- 
 vout expressions every true child of God, according 
 to the measure of his sanctification, is more or less 
 enabled to concur. For, indeed, there is no surer test 
 by which the character of a person may be tried, 
 whether he be a child of God or a child of the world, 
 than the manner in which he stands affected to the 
 spiritual exercises of the Sabbath. It is perfectly 
 evident that he cannot be of God if, instead of a 
 relish, he feels a decided aversion, for the day of 
 God and the services connected with it. One thing 
 we may affirm with all confidence, that those who 
 have no delisfht in this hallowed season — those who 
 are not disposed to rejoice in it as one of the most 
 inestimable ** gifts " which God of His infinite good- 
 ness hath conferred on them — cannot be " meet to 
 be partakers of the inheritance of the saints in 
 light." For what, indeed, is the nature of this inherit- 
 ance but a perpetual enjoyment of those spiritual 
 blessings which such men are wholly incapable of re- 
 lishing ? The Scriptures, in describing to us the na- 
 
332 The Sabbath a Gift of God. 
 
 ture of the heavenly bhss, tell us that " there remain- 
 eth a rest " (the word in the original means a Sabbath- 
 keephig — the enjoyment of a Sabbath rest) — there 
 remaineth a Sabbath rest " for the people of God." 
 And the saints in heaven are frequently represented 
 as deriving their chief happiness from dwelling in the 
 presence of the Lord, and serving Him day and night 
 in His temple. It is, then, a most unquestionable sign 
 of a carnal heart that is utterly unfit for heaven, when 
 men disrelish the services of the Sabbath-day, regard- 
 ing as drudgery that which is the employment of an- 
 gels, the rest and joy of the spirits of the redeemed. 
 How can they expect to be happy in quitting earthly 
 cares and pleasures and occupations for ever, who 
 cannot contentedly lay them aside now for so much 
 as one day in a week ? How can they relish an eter- 
 nity to be spent in celebrating the praises of Jehovah 
 and enjoying communion with Him, to whom even 
 a single day, or a part of the day, thus spent, is in- 
 tolerably irksome, — who had rather be in any idle 
 company, or engaged in any trifling pursuit or friv- 
 olous amusement, than in the house of God, and in 
 fellowship with Him } Assuredly those who cannot 
 enter with all their souls into the spiritual joys of the 
 Day of rest which hath been given them in this world, 
 are much less capable of entering into the rest that 
 remaineth for the people of God in the world to come. 
 But to all who are truly sanctified by the grace of God, 
 and qualified for inheriting His heavenly kingdom, 
 His holy day is a source of the purest happiness. It 
 is an emblem and foretaste of the celestial bliss, — a 
 portion of heaven already given them to enjoy on 
 earth, — a cluster of grapes from the vines of that pro- 
 
The Sabbath a Gift of God. 333 
 
 mised land, — a few drops, as it were, allowed to run 
 over from that perennial fountain of pleasure which 
 is to be found at the riorht hand of the throne of God. 
 And viewing it in this light, as an earnest of the in- 
 heritance to which they are looking forward with de- 
 light, as the consummation of all their loftiest hopes, 
 — nay, as the nearest approach that can be made by 
 them in this present world to the enjoyment of that 
 inheritance, — those who are thus realising its inesti- 
 mable preciousness even here, cannot do otherwise 
 than warmly praise and thank the Lord for having 
 pfiven them the Sabbath." 
 
 t>' 
 
 But some may be disposed to ask whether the text, 
 with all that it implies, be really applicable to our- 
 selves? It was originally spoken to the Israelites: 
 may it be extended to people who belong to other 
 countries and to other ages of the world ? May we 
 now say that God hath given tcs the Sabbath also, and 
 that we have still His Divine warrant for the observ- 
 ance of it 1 
 
 No man who really takes that view of the Sabbath 
 which we have been endeavouring to illustrate, will 
 be anxious that this question should be answered in 
 the negative. If you had a rich estate in your pos- 
 session, and had been always accustomed to consider 
 it as your own, you would feel no interest in the fur- 
 therance of an attempt to call in question your title to 
 the enjoyment of it. And even so, if you appreciate 
 the Sabbath as a precious gift which God has once 
 conferred on man from a gracious regard to his nature 
 and wants, it will be with no complacency that you 
 will listen to the arguments of those who would en- 
 
334 T^^^^ Sabbath a Gift of God. 
 
 deavour to persuade you that this precious gift was 
 not intended for such as you are. 
 
 But, in truth, such arguments as they advance are 
 altogether inconclusive. It does not by any means 
 follow from the statements that God "gave" and 
 "made known His Sabbath " to the Israelites, that 
 therefore the ordinance is altogether a Jewish one, 
 and was not intended for other nations and for other 
 times. For we find the same modes of expression 
 used with reference to many other matters of a reli- 
 gious nature, which are known to be of universal 
 human obligation and concernment. Indeed it is often 
 stated generally of all the commandments and ordi- 
 nances of the Lord, that they were " given " or " made 
 known to Israel;" but no one would ever think of draw- 
 ing thence the inference that these commandments 
 were not designed for, and are not still prescribed 
 to other nations. We cannot, on this occasion, go into 
 this important question in detail. The truth is, how- 
 ever, that no one who reads with candour the account 
 of the creation of the world as given in the Book of 
 Genesis, can doubt that the Sabbath was instituted 
 at the beginning. It has been alleged indeed that 
 what is there stated regarding the sanctification of 
 the seventh day refers, not in the way of narrative to 
 what the Lord did when His great work of creation 
 had been accomplished, but rather, by way of antici- 
 pation, to what He was yet to do on instituting the 
 law, some thousands of years afterwards. This alle- 
 gation, however, is altogether gratuitous. It puts a 
 forced construction upon the passage, which does not 
 accord with its plain and natural import. For surely, 
 when we find the inspired historian stating that "God 
 
The Sabbath a Gift of God. 335 
 
 rested on the seventh day from all His work which 
 He had made," and adding immediately after, in close 
 connection, these words : •* And God blessed the 
 seventh day, and sanctified it," — the only conclusion 
 which can be come to by unprejudiced readers, who 
 have no particular theory to support, is that God 
 sanctified the seventh day at the very time of His 
 resting from the work of creation. It is perfectly 
 true there is no after-notice taken of the Sabbath in 
 the Sacred History until after the departure of the 
 Israelites from the land of Egypt. But neither is 
 there any allusion made to it throughout the Books 
 of Joshua and Judges, which embrace a period of at 
 least 400 years after the solemn ratification of it at 
 Mount Sinai. The silence of the Sacred Narrative, 
 therefore, in regard to it is not in the former period, 
 more than in the latter, any ground for supposing 
 that the ordinance did not exist. The truth is, that 
 the inspired historian does not profess to enter mi- 
 nutely into the manners and customs of the times to 
 which he alludes, or to give us anything more than a 
 brief and cursory notice of such great transactions as 
 were worthy of especial record. The case of the 
 Sabbath, besides, is not the only instance in which a 
 like silence is found in Scripture in regard to prevail- 
 ing ordinances. For a period of 1 500 years, from the 
 death of Abel till the time of the Deluge, no mention 
 is made of the rite of sacrifice ; and for a similar 
 period of 1 500 years, from the entrance of the Israel- 
 ites into Canaan till the birth of Christ, there is no 
 mention of circumcision as an existing rite in any of 
 the narrative parts of the Old Testament, although 
 there are certainly some allusions to it, chiefly of a 
 
33^ The Sabbat Ji a Gift of God. 
 
 figurative kind, in the writings of the Prophets. Yet 
 it is not to be questioned that both of these Divine 
 ordinances of sacrifice and circumcision were in regu- 
 lar course of observance by the Lord's people during 
 these periods. We are warranted to hold, therefore, 
 from such parallel instances, that the mere circum- 
 stance of the Book of Genesis making no after- 
 mention of the Sabbath, is not to be viewed as any 
 contradiction of the conclusion drawn from the state- 
 ment so plainly and expressly made in the commence- 
 ment of it, that God " rested on the seventh day from 
 all His work which He had made; and God blessed the 
 seventh day, and sanctified it" As the Sabbath did 
 not originate with the Mosaic dispensation, neither 
 did it terminate with it. The observance of it has 
 been solemnly enjoined in one of the ten Command- 
 ments of that Moral Law, concerning which our Lord 
 has expressly said that He "came not to destroy but 
 to fulfil ; " and that " till heaven and earth pass away, 
 one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass till all be 
 fulfilled."" And although, in opposing those supersti- 
 tious views which the Scribes and Pharisees held 
 regarding this ordinance, our Saviour cautioned them 
 aofainst such an overstrained adherence to the mere 
 letter of the Fourth Commandment as would prove 
 destructive to its true spirit and intention, yet the 
 very language He uses in so doing — " the Sabbath 
 was made for man, not man for the Sabbath " — is 
 such as to imply the universality of the ordinance, 
 as an ordinance meant for every inenibeT- of the human 
 family — not merely for the Jew, but 'for man',' to 
 whatever nation he may belong, and whatever region 
 of the world he may inhabit. It is true that, under 
 
The Sabbath a Gift of God. 2>2>1 
 
 the dispensation of the Gospel, the first day of the 
 week has been substituted in commemoration of 
 Christ's resurrection from the dead, for the last day 
 of the week, as observed in former ages. This 
 change, however, is only of a circumstantial nature, 
 and does not affect the essence of the institution. It 
 is still, as before, every seventh day that is hallowed, 
 although, in compliance with the practice of the 
 Apostles, we sanctify the first of the seven, and not 
 the last. And indeed this very alteration of the day, 
 instead of lessening, does, on the contrary, greatly in- 
 crease its claim to our observance, as being now com- 
 memorative, not only of the finished work of the Cre- 
 ation, but also of that higher finished work of redeem- 
 ing Love on which all our hopes of salvation are built. 
 Let us not think, then, that the gift of the Sabbath 
 as conferred on the Israelities, has been exclusively 
 bestowed upon them. It belongs, by right of Divine 
 donation, to men of every kindred and of every clime. 
 Neither let us imagine that the Saviour has, in respect 
 of this blessed institution, lessened and curtailed the 
 privileges which God's people enjoyed before His 
 coming. He has, on the contrary, extended and im- 
 proved them ; so that we who now live under the 
 fulness of the Gospel have even greater cause than 
 those whose lot was cast under that less perfect sys- 
 tem which preceded it, to rejoice that " God hath 
 o;iven us the Sabbath." 
 
 Since, then. Brethren, the Sabbath is still the Lord's 
 " gift," see that ye be thankful for it. Regard it not 
 as a restraint imposed upon you, but rather as an 
 immunity conferred upon you. View it as a day of 
 
 Y 
 
338 The Sabbath a Gift of God. 
 
 real freedom to your nobler nature, — a day when the 
 body is indeed circumscribed, but only in order that 
 the soul may be emancipated, — a day when your tem- 
 poral business is indeed suspended, but only in order 
 that your everlasting interests, which are of far higher 
 moment, may be promoted. Bless God for having 
 favoured you with an institution which marks His 
 loving-kindness no less than His sovereignty, — His 
 regard for your welfare no less than for His own 
 glory. 
 
 Further, if the Sabbath be " the gift of God," be 
 careful that yon improve it with att ditigence. Apply 
 it faithfully to those gracious purposes which it is so 
 admirably calculated to promote. Seek to be ever in 
 the spirit on the Lord's Day. Endeavour, with the 
 help of God, so to sanctify it as that it may be effec- 
 tual in sanctifying you. Jealously turn away from 
 profaning its holiness by doing your own ways, or 
 speaking your own words, or seeking your own plea- 
 sure. Guard it from every secular encroachment 
 just as you would guard your own property from 
 being invaded. And consider every suggestion that 
 would induce you to violate its sanctity or to neglect 
 its holy duties, as tempting you not only to rob God, 
 but to defraud yourselves, by forsaking your own 
 mercies and prejudicing your highest interests. 
 
 To stir you up to the performance of this duty, 
 remember that if the Sabbath be the Lord's gift, you 
 must be answerable to Him for your use of it. It is 
 a most important article of that stewardship for which 
 He will ultimately call you to account. And of those 
 to whom so much has been given, a proportionate 
 extent of improvement shall be required. I fear 
 
The Sabbath a Gift of God. 339 
 
 we do not sufficiently consider how much on this 
 score we owe unto the Lord. Numberless Sabbaths 
 come and pass away without our taking any notice 
 of them at all. Not being fully alive to the value of 
 them, we reck not of the serious responsibility con- 
 nected with them. But though we forget them, we 
 may be sure that God does not. There is not one of 
 them that He has lost sight of; and on the latter day 
 He will confront us with them, and searchingly ex- 
 amine how far we have improved them. Bethink you, 
 my dear Friends, how vast an amount of privilege 
 you have to answer for, in having enjoyed from week 
 to week the stated return of the day of hallowed 
 rest. The man who has reached his seventieth year 
 has lived ten years of Sabbaths, when they are 
 summed up into one whole. The man who has 
 reached his thirty-fifth year has in like manner spent 
 (with what improvement it is for God and his own 
 conscience to judge) five entire years of Sabbaths ; 
 and at every other period of life there is the same 
 proportion of Sabbath-time in the age of every indi- 
 vidual. Consider, then, each one of you, how you 
 have been using that portion of Sabbatical time, with 
 which a long-suffering God has been favouring you, 
 and what account you will be able to give Him of it 
 on the great and final day of retribution. If hitherto 
 you have been wasting it, be persuaded to waste no 
 more of it, for its every hour is incomparably preci- 
 ous. Now, even now, take advantage of the gift of 
 God, lest ultimately He have to condemn you for 
 abusing it. Walk circumspectly, redeeming the time, 
 because the days are few and evil. 
 
 Finally, while you rejoice in the Sabbath as being 
 
340 TJic Sabbath a Gift of God. 
 
 itself consecrated by being the gift of God, be careful 
 to look deya?id it n'ith the eye of faith to tJie ei'C7'lasting 
 Sabbath in the kingdom of heaven, of which it is a 
 sure pledge and earnest to believers, and for which 
 it is meant by the Divine blessing to prepare them. 
 You know that " there remaineth a rest — a Sabbati- 
 cal rest — for the people of God," when, freed from all 
 the encumbrances of the flesh, and from all the cares 
 and allurements of the world, they shall dwell for 
 ever in the presence of the Most High, and ser\-e 
 Him day and night in His temple. It is but a faint 
 though still an appropriate emblem of this heavenly 
 rest that is afforded by the earthly Sabbath, Here 
 we sene an unseen God ; but tJiere the ser\'ants of 
 God shall see Him face to face. Here we worship 
 only with a few ; but there we shall join the whole 
 Church of the First-born — a mighty host, which no 
 man can number. Here we have often cause to 
 lament our unsuitable thoughts and feelings, and to 
 deplore the sins that taint our best services ; but 
 there our ser\4ng shall be pure as those of the un- 
 blemished spirits that have never fallen from com- 
 munion with the all-perfect Being to whom the)- are 
 presented. Here our Sabbaths are soon over, and 
 we must v.ithdraw from fellowship with God to 
 minele asrain in the vexinor and eno-rossino^ and often- 
 times debasing pursuits of this world ; but there our 
 Sabbath shall be an unendin-g one, and we shall be 
 as pillars in the temple of our God, never more to 
 go out 
 
 Cease not, then, Brethren, to cherish the hope ol 
 this blessed Rest which yet awaits you in the heavens. 
 
The Sabbath a Gift of God. 34 1 
 
 Let your earthly Sabbaths, as often as they return, 
 lead on your thoughts to the confident expectation of 
 it ; and let them be so improved as to fit you for the 
 enjoyment of it when it does come. Thus shall you 
 have cause, not in time only, but through eternity, 
 to adore the Divine goodness for having " given you 
 the Sabbath." 
 
342 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY. 
 
 " And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these 
 is charity." — i Cor. xiii. 13. 
 
 Thus does St Paul conclude the eloquent encomium, 
 which this remarkable chapter contains, on that most 
 excellent grace of Charity or Love. He had spoken of 
 it as incomparably superior to the gifts of tongues, 
 and of prophecy, and of miracles, with which, for the 
 diffusion and confirmation of the Gospel, the Chris- 
 tian Church at that early period was endowed ; and 
 as so indispensable to the character of a true disciple, 
 that without it the most wonderful of these supernat- 
 ural gifts, united to the deepest knowledge of Divine 
 mysteries, the most burning zeal, and the most boun- 
 tiful liberality, would prove, in the judgment of 
 Heaven, to be of no avail in furthering the ultimate 
 welfare of those who were possessed of them. He 
 had mentioned some of the most prominent qualities 
 by which this grace of Charity is distinguished, — such 
 as its patience, kindness, and disinterestedness ; its 
 meekness, candour, humility, and generosity, and 
 other good properties, so varied in their character as 
 
Faith, Hope, and Charity. 343 
 
 evidently to show that the " chanty " thus described 
 was not regarded by him so much as a si7igle subordi- 
 nate virtue, but rather as the crown or culmination of 
 all the virtues ; or, as what he has elsewhere called it, 
 the " fulfilling of the Law," the " end of the command- 
 ment," and the " bond of perfectness." Having then 
 resumed his former comparison between that excel- 
 lent grace and those miraculous endowments, which 
 the Corinthians appeared to be in some danger of 
 preferring to it, he specifies one respect in which it 
 greatly surpassed them, as being destined in all ages 
 unfailingly to continue, while they, having served their 
 temporary purpose, should pass away. And then^ 
 after a brief digression, into which he was naturally 
 led, regarding the imperfection of all our present 
 attainments as compared with those which are ulti- 
 mately to be reached by us, he once more reverts to the 
 subject of Charity, and pronounces on it the crowning 
 eulogy of the text, in which, you perceive, the palm 
 of excellence is assigned to it, over no mere occa- 
 sional and transient endowments, but over those 
 graces which in union with itself may be held to 
 be most vitally essential to the Christian character. 
 " Now," he says, — " nozu abideth faith, hope, charity ^ 
 these three ; but the greatest of these is charity T 
 
 I. Let me shortly turn your attention, in the first 
 place, to the importance here attributed by the Apostle 
 to all the three Graces to which he is alluding. " Now" 
 he says, " abideth Faith, Hope, Charity, these three." 
 
 In thus speaking of these cardinal virtues of the 
 Christian character, it is evident that St Paul means 
 to distinguish them from one another. He speaks of 
 
o 
 
 44 Faith, Hope, and Charity. 
 
 them as ''these three,'' and thereby represents them to 
 us as three several virtiies, each holding its own place, 
 and serving its own purpose, to which it is peculiarly- 
 adapted, and in which the others are incapable of 
 superseding it. Each one of this blessed triad of 
 Christian graces has its own proper province in the 
 spiritual life allotted to it. And each has important 
 functions to discharge, which none but itself is capable 
 of executing. Faith, for example, can be no substitute 
 for Love in the way of fulfilling the great duties of prac- 
 tical religion. And as little can Love be any substi- 
 tute for Faith in the way of appropriating the merits 
 of the Saviour, and thereby securing our justification 
 in the si2:ht of God. What St Paul has elsewhere 
 said of the several offices in the Christian Church is 
 equally applicable to the leading graces of the Chris- 
 tian character — that all of them are useful and need- 
 ful in their respective spheres, like the various organs 
 and members of the human body ; and that no one 
 amons: them can set aside another, anv more than the 
 hand can dispense with the services of the foot, or the 
 eye undertake to perform the functions of the ear. 
 
 But while in this statement Faith, Hope, and Love 
 are thus represented as numerically distinct, they are 
 notwithstanding very intimately associated, as having 
 the closest mutual affinity and dependence. All three 
 ?mist abide together, in order to the perfection of each 
 other, as well as of the whole character into which 
 they enter. God has joined them ; and man must 
 not attempt to sever them. Faith, for example, must 
 animate the mind with Hope, and " work by Love" in 
 order to show its genuineness as that living and oper- 
 'ative Faith which the Scriptures have alone approved 
 
Faith, Hope, mid Charity. 345 
 
 of. Hope, again, if it do not rest on the good founda- 
 tion which Faith has laid for it, is akogether visionary 
 and unwarranted ; and if it do not elevate the soul 
 unto the unfeigned Love of God and man, it is spurious 
 or hypocritical. And, in like manner, we may say of 
 Love, that if it be not originated by Faith and sus- 
 tained by Hope, it is merely an instinctive impulse of 
 nature, accidental in its attachments, and limited to 
 the sphere of visible things, and thus differing most 
 essentially from that evangelical Love of which it is 
 written, that " the end of the commandment is charity 
 out of a pure heart and of a good conscience, and of 
 faith unfeigned^ Thus you perceive that these three 
 excellent graces, though individually distinct, are yet 
 mutually dependent. They cannot exist apart. Each 
 of them is necessary to the full and orderly develop- 
 ment of its associates. And only when they are com- 
 bined in just proportion do we obtain the completeness 
 and consistency essential to the Christian character. 
 
 The chief point, however, to be noticed in this 
 statement, is th.& permanence it ascribes to those graces 
 of which it speaks. It represents ** Faith, Hope, and 
 Charity, these three," as all alike abiding. Formerly 
 the Apostle had said this of Charity in particular, de- 
 claring in the 8th verse thdif charity never faileth." 
 But now, in repeating the statement, he extends it to 
 the other two, ascribing to them also the same dura- 
 bility which he had previously noticed as an attribute 
 of Charity. No doubt it was the design of the Apostle 
 to point out in this respect the very striking contrast 
 between these three essential graces, by which at all 
 times the Christian character must be distinguished, 
 and those extraordinary gifts bestowed on the early 
 
346 Faith, Hope, and Charity. 
 
 Christian Church, which, however remarkable and 
 useful while they endured, were only intended to 
 continue for a season. " Whether there be pro- 
 phecies," he had before observed, " they shall fail ; 
 " whether there be tongues, they shall cease ; whether 
 there be knowledge" (that is, special, supernatural 
 knowledge), ''it shall vanish away." But contrasted 
 with these temporary endowments, Charity Is spo- 
 ken of In the 8th verse as ncve7^ failing. And I 
 see no reason to doubt that a like contrast was pre- 
 sent to the mind of the Apostle when substantially 
 the same statement is repeated by him, with a some- 
 what wider application, In the text. The supernatural 
 gifts conferred on the primitive Church, though useful 
 and important with a view to its first establishment, 
 were not indispensably necessary to its continued 
 subsistence, and were therefore, when they had 
 served their temporary purpose, to be withdrawn. 
 But Faith, Hope, and Charity are absolutely essential 
 at all times. " These three " must ever continue as 
 long as the Church endures. It cannot dispense 
 with them ; for they constitute Its very life. With 
 respect, again, to Individual members of the Christian 
 Church, they might not In all cases be endowed with 
 miraculous gifts, or continue at all times to enjoy 
 these in the same measure ; but yet they might be 
 very sincere and very active Christians notwithstand- 
 ing. And the same thing may be now said with 
 reference to those natural attainments of learning, 
 wisdom, eloquence, and the like, to which in mod- 
 ern times we have to look as our substitute for the 
 primitive endowments. TJiese are not vitally essen- 
 tial to the Christian. Many a one who Is most poorly 
 
Faith, Hope, and Charity. 347 
 
 furnished with them — yea, many a one who is utterly 
 destitute of them — is rich in grace, and an heir of 
 glory. But Faith, Hope, and Love are indispensable 
 to the spiritual life in the case of every Christian. 
 Without these we may have a name to live, but we 
 are really dead. Whatever else may fail us, these must 
 abide with us, so long as we have any sound claims to 
 the Christian character. 
 
 But it may be asked. Was it really St Paul's inten- 
 tion to ascribe the same permanence to all the three 
 Christian graces of which he here speaks ? When 
 stating in the 8th verse that ^'charity never faileth," 
 it appears from what follows that he alludes to the 
 continuance of Charity, not only in all succeeding ages 
 of the Church on earth, when prophecies shall have 
 ceased and miracles shall have passed away, but also 
 throughout the endless ages of the Church in heaven, 
 when all our present and partial endowments shall be 
 superseded by the more excellent powers and capa- 
 cities of our perfected state. 
 
 Is it, then, the Apostle's meaning in our text, where 
 his former statement is substantially repeated and 
 extended in its application to the other graces of 
 Faith and Hope, — is it the Apostle's meaning to as- 
 cribe to these other graces of Faith and Hope the same 
 permanence, not only here but hereafter, which he 
 had previously declared to be an attribute of Charity ? 
 
 As I regard it, this question must be answered in 
 the affirmative. It is true the word " nozv " occurs 
 in the passage before us. But that word has here 
 no necessary allusion to one particular period more 
 than to another, and may be properly enough viewed 
 as a mere connecting particle. Of this use of it we 
 
348 Faith, Hope, and Charity. 
 
 meet with frequent instances both in our English 
 Bible and elsewhere. That such is the right view to 
 take of it in the present instance, is shown by the 
 circumstance that the word in the original {yvvi) is 
 not the same with that which Paul had been twice 
 ei7iployiiig, with an tmdoubted reference to time, in the 
 previous verse (aprt). In that verse he had thus writ- 
 ten : " Now we see through a glass, darkly ; but then 
 face to face : now I know in part ; but then shall I 
 know even as also I am known." Here the word 
 " now " is twice opposed to the word " then',' so as to 
 denote the present time in contrast with the future. 
 But in the text which follows immediately after, the 
 Apostle is careful to avoid repeating this word ; but 
 adopts in its stead another which is less definite in 
 relation to time, and which is often used merely to 
 indicate the continuity, or to mark the result or sum- 
 ming up of a discussion, or to point an antithesis. 
 
 Apart, however, from any such verbal criticism, 
 you cannot fail to see that the w^ord " now," in what- 
 ever way it may be interpreted, affects the whole sen- 
 tence to zvhich it is prefixed. It cannot be considered, 
 therefore, as limiting the continuance of Faith and 
 Hope more than that of Charity, inasmuch as it is 
 applicable to all the three without distinction. You 
 will further observe, that when specifying in the 8th 
 verse the things which shall pass away, while Charity 
 shall still continue, the Apostle makes no mention of 
 Faith and Hope as among their number. And yet 
 further, in the text itself, all the three are spoken of 
 — without the least variation in the mode of expres- 
 sion — as alike abiding ; and though it be added that 
 
Faith, Hope, and Charity. 349 
 
 " Xki^ greatest of these is charity," it is neither stated 
 nor imphed that Charity is the most enduring.'' 
 
 No doubt we are very much accustomed to speak of 
 Faith as destined in the future world to give place to 
 vision, and of Hope as destined, in like manner, to end 
 m /nil f7^zntion. This view is taken in the last verses 
 of our 49th Paraphrase, of which the chapter be- 
 fore us is the groundwork. And by frequently using 
 that beautiful Paraphrase, we have probably been led, 
 without much consideration, to assume that Charity 
 alone shall exist in heaven, while Faith and Hope shall 
 be altogether superseded. But is there any solid 
 Scriptural ground for such an assumption ? There 
 is, as we have seen, nothing in the text itself to war- 
 rant it. Nor am I aware of any other passage that 
 has ever been formally brought forward to confirm it. 
 No Faith in heaven ! What, then, are we to make of 
 those texts which speak of the glorified saints as " eat- 
 ing of the hidden manna," partaking of " the fruit of 
 the tree of life," — "following the Lamb of God whither- 
 soever He may lead them,'' — and as " guided by Him 
 to living fountains of waters." Surely these expres- 
 sions are as significant as words can be of a life of 
 unceasing faith in the Redeemer. It is quite true 
 that many of those things which are now objects of 
 Faith, shall hereafter be objects of Sight. But it would 
 be a very rash and sweeping conclusion thence to in- 
 fer that in a future world there shall be no room and 
 no occasion for Faith at all. Unless, indeed, we are 
 to be made absolutely omniscient at the very first 
 moment of our entrance into the heavenly mansions, 
 there must ^till remain a field, though not indeed the 
 
350 Faith, Hope, and CJiarity. 
 
 same field with that which we now have, for the ex- 
 ercise of Faith. And then, in so far as Faith can be 
 held to consist in confide^ice towards God or dependence 
 on the Saviour, we may surely venture to say that in- 
 stead of ceasing in the world to come, it will be more 
 ftilly developed and more perfectly maintained. With 
 respect to Hope, again, it is not to be questioned that 
 many of those things, to which it is for the present 
 directed, shall in our future state be actiially pos- 
 sessed, so that they cannot then be hoped for any 
 longer. But does it thence follow that, after this life is 
 ended, the Christian will absolutely have nothing what- 
 ever to hope for ? Will it be nothing for the departed 
 spirits of the faithful to anticipate the resurrection of 
 their bodies, and to look forward to the triumphant 
 issues of the coming judgment ? And even when 
 these glorious events have been consummated, will 
 there not still remain the animating prospect of con- 
 tinually augmenting knowledge, unceasingly advanc- 
 ing happiness, and progressively increasing spiritual 
 excellence to all eternity ? We must either suppose 
 that all that heaven has to give is to be enjoyed at once 
 by the spirits of the redeemed when first they are 
 translated thither, and that there is no progress of 
 any kind to be afterwards made by them from glory 
 to glory ; or else we must allow that there is still 
 something in reserve for them, besides what they at 
 first attain, as a fit and proper object of Hope. It 
 appears, then, on closer examination, that the idea, 
 however commonly entertained, of Faith and Hope 
 being limited to this present life, has no real war- 
 rant either from the text or from the general doc- 
 trine of Holy Scripture. St Paul does not, in this 
 
Faith, Hope, and Charity. 35 1 
 
 respect, disparage these excellent graces of Faith and 
 Hope by any preference over them which he here 
 assigns to Charity. He speaks of "these three" in 
 the same terms as all " abiding,'^ and evidently means 
 to ascribe to them without distinction the same con- 
 tinued subsistence both in this life and in the life 
 to come. 
 
 n. Let us consider now, however, the meaning of 
 the very decided pj^e/crence luhich the statement of the 
 Apostle assigns to one of these Christian graces when 
 compared with the other tzvo. " The greatest of these',' 
 he says, "■ is charity'' 
 
 It cannot be necessary, I think, to guard you 
 against supposing that St Paul, when he assigns this 
 pre-eminence to Charity or Christian Love, has any 
 intention to depreciate the value, still less to dispense 
 with the necessity, of those other graces to which he 
 thus prefers it. For it is remarkable that he, who in 
 this passage extols ChaiHty in a strain which none of 
 the other writers of the New Testament, in discours- 
 ing on it, have ever reached, is the same who has also 
 dwelt more largely and more forcibly than all the 
 others on the truly inestimable preciousness of Faith 
 and Hope, — attaching, indeed, to these two principles, 
 . and more particularly to Faith, a measure of import- 
 ance which unbelieving men have grievously objected 
 to as, in their judgment, altogether inordinate and 
 unwarranted. Nor is he in this respect chargeable 
 with inconsistency. For without in the slightest 
 degree detracting from the excellence, or underrating 
 the influence, or questioning the permanence, and the 
 necessity of Faith and Hope, there are various grounds 
 
352 Faith, Hope, and Charity. 
 
 that readily occur on which they may be held to be 
 essentially inferior to Charity. 
 
 I. In point of order Charity is pre-eminent, as oc- 
 cupying a higher positio7i in the scale of those restilts, 
 which the grace of God is intefided to accomplish. 
 " Charity," as we are told, " is the end of the com- 
 mandment." It is so, whether by " the command- 
 ment " we understand the Law or the Gospel. As 
 for the Moral Law, what is its sum or substance, but 
 love to God and love to man ? And as for the Gos- 
 pel, what is its grand design but to rescue men from 
 a state of enmity against God and against one an- 
 other, — to restore them, not only to the Divine 
 favour, but to the Divine image, of which Love is 
 certainly the characteristic and prevailing feature, — 
 and by writing upon their hearts that great law of 
 Love, in which all the Divine statutes are summar- 
 ily comprehended, to bring them into cordial sub- 
 mission to the will of God, and to win from them a 
 cheerful and thorough obedience to His command- 
 ments ? This is unquestionably the ultimate design 
 of the Gospel. Finding men "without hope" and 
 "without God in the world," — living in enmity, dis- 
 traction, and alienation, it aims at raising them from 
 their sin and selfishness to the love of God and of 
 the brethren. As necessary means for the accom- 
 plishment of this purpose. Faith and Hope are of in- 
 estimable importance, — bringing as they do the Gos- 
 pel to bear upon us, with all its sanctifying and love- 
 inspiring influences. But still, as being mainly means, 
 they are subordinate to the end or final rcs7ilt to 
 which they are conducive, — just as the scaffolding, 
 though necessary, is less valuable than the finished 
 
Faith, Hope, and Charity. 353 
 
 building that is erected by the use of it, — or as 
 the sowing of the seed, however indispensable, is 
 of less consideration in itself than the reaping of 
 the precious and abundant grain. Faith is the 
 leaf, Hope is the blossom, but Love is the fruit of 
 the tree of righteousness ; and here, too, the leaf 
 and the blossom are for the sake of the fruit. Only 
 we are not to think of these as giving place to each 
 other in time ; but as flourishing together on the same 
 eternal stem. Faith may rely on the mercies and 
 promises of God, and Hope may anticipate their full 
 and final enjoyment ; but Love is that actual consum- 
 mation of blessedness, begun on earth and to be 
 perfected in heaven, to which these other excellent 
 graces are subsidiary, and from their subserviency to 
 which they derive their chief importance. 
 
 2. Charity is farther entitled to this preference in 
 respect of the extent or diffusiveness of its i7ifiuence. 
 Faith and Hope maybe said to centre in the individ- 
 ual. Every individual believer has them " unto him- 
 self." And though they be much to him, they are 
 little to others, at least in their more immediate 
 agency, being primarily concerned with the man's 
 own spiritual welfare. Their objects no doubt are 
 outward and widely extensive, but are all referred to 
 the individual who contemplates them ; and however 
 boundless may be the range of his excursions among 
 those things unseen and hoped for, which are sur- 
 veyed by him, the light, and strength, and consola- 
 tion thence derived, are brought home to himself, and 
 exclusively applied for the furtherance of his own 
 personal happiness and advantage. Not so with 
 
354 Faith, Hope, and Charity. 
 
 Charity. This excellent grace is emphatically de- 
 scribed in the context as " seeking not her own." 
 While equally boundless with the others in its views, it 
 looks constantly abroad, without any regard to self, — 
 opens the heart and hand to all whom it can benefit, 
 and makes it its sole aim and never-ceasing vocation 
 to promote the glory of God and the welfare of all 
 mankind. Unlike the two kindred graces here com- 
 pared with it, it leads the Christian to regard himself 
 not as an isolated being, whose chief concern is to 
 secure his own spiritual interests, but as a member 
 of that great family, of which God is the Father, and 
 all men are brethren, and in which the members 
 ought ever to be linked together by the sacred bonds 
 of amity and peace. No wonder, then, that St Paul 
 should so decidedly assign to this grace the pre-emi- 
 nence over the others, inasmuch as its agency is 
 wider and more diffusive. While Faith and Hope per- 
 tain to individuals, and are chiefly exercised by them 
 with reference to their own welfare. Love is that great 
 social principle which unites the creatures of God to 
 Him and to one another, — binds together all holy 
 beings in a blessed confederacy, and tends to secure 
 in the most effectual manner the harmony and pros- 
 perity of the whole universe. 
 
 3. B7it yet furtJier, C/mrity claims the pre-emi- 
 nence in respect of its superior dignity and excellence, 
 as a virtue which most of all co7iforms us to the image 
 of God, Faith and Hope, from their nature, are re- 
 cipients, while it is of the nature of Love to be com- 
 municative, and thus to be possessed of that higher 
 blessedness which the Lord Jesus ascribes to giving 
 
Faith, Hope, and Chai'ity. 355 
 
 above receiving. Faith and Hope, too, are necessarily- 
 expressive, in all who exercise them, of imperfection 
 and dependence, and as such can only be attributed 
 to subordinate creatures. We cannot ascribe to God 
 anything that resembles them. He who knows all 
 things, and can do all things of Himself, has no room 
 for relying on the testimony or aid of others. And 
 He, who is infinitely blessed in the possession of a 
 Divine fulness, cannot be said to hope, or to lack 
 anything that could be hoped for. But Love, on the 
 contrary, is the attribute of superior natures. It is 
 held by the highest creatures in common with their 
 Creator. It belongs to the character of Him in 
 whom all fulness dwells. Indeed it is His pre-emi- 
 nent and crowning attribute ; and the more we 
 attain of It, so much the more do we approach 
 Him in His Divine excellency, — so much the more 
 are we fitted to share in His unutterable bless- 
 edness. " Beloved," salth an Apostle, " let us love 
 one another ; for love is of God, and every one 
 that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God ; 
 God is love, and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth 
 In God, and God in him." Assuredly, then, of all the 
 virtues Charity may be justly esteemed the greatest. 
 For by it we are most of all partakers of a Divine 
 nature. And though it be unquestionably an excel- 
 lent and a blessed thing to trust in God, and to look 
 to Him for all that He has promised, It Is still a 
 higher and more glorious attainment to share with 
 Him, however humbly. In that diffusive Love, which 
 sheds its rich beauties and blessings over the wide 
 creation. 
 
 Let us, then, "covet earnestly the best gifts." Let 
 
35^ Faith, Hope, and Charity. 
 
 us follow after Love, and seek by Divine grace to 
 abound more and more in its generous dispositions 
 and heavenly affections, as well as in its outwardly ben- 
 eficent and godly fruits. While we do not undervalue 
 that most precious Faith whereby we partake of the 
 benefits of the great salvation, and that lively Hope 
 which entereth within the vail, and cheers us with joy- 
 ous anticipations of the coming glory ; let us carefully 
 remember that a greater than these is Charity, without 
 which all professions of Faith and Hope are spurious. 
 And let ours be that earnest prayer of the Apostle, 
 that " our love may abound yet more and more in 
 knowledge and in all judgment ; that we may approve 
 the things that are excellent ; that we may be sincere 
 and without offence, till the day of Christ ; being filled 
 with the fruits of righteousness, which are by Jesus 
 Christ unto the praise and glory of God." 
 
357 
 
 XIX. 
 
 THINGS NOT SEEN AND ETERNAL. 
 
 " While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are 
 not seen : for the things which are seen are temporal ; but the things which 
 are not seen are eternal." — 2 CoR. iv. i8. 
 
 Two kinds of objects — " the things which are seen " 
 and " the things which are not seen " — are here con- 
 trasted with one another, as meriting and receiving, 
 on the part of all true Christians, a very different 
 measure of attention and regard. 
 
 The " things which are seen " consist of such 
 sensible objects as are placed within our reach, or are 
 subject to our observation. We must understand the 
 expression as including the riches, honours, and plea- 
 sures of the present world, — its cares and toils, — its 
 fellowships and connections, — its hard struggles and 
 eager competitions, — its joys and sorrows, — its losses 
 and its gains, — its cheering successes and bitter dis- 
 appointments. These, and the like things, are easily 
 discernible by us. Go where we will, they are con- 
 stantly around us, attracting our notice and soliciting 
 our regard. Our eyes can see them, our hands can 
 grasp them, or some other of our senses can take 
 cognizance of them. Hence, they secure from the 
 
358 Things not seen and Eternal. 
 
 generality of mankind a very predominating interest 
 and attention. Most men, indeed, appear to have 
 no thought for anything else. There is something 
 tangible and substantial about them, such as the 
 grossest and most unreflecting minds can readily per- 
 ceive and thoroughly appreciate. Indeed, they are 
 commonly accounted the only realities with which a 
 rational and sober-minded man has any cause seriously 
 to concern himself To think otherwise of them is not 
 unfrequently denounced as a symptom of the weakest 
 folly or the merest fanaticism. 
 
 Besides these things, however, there are others 
 here contrasted with them, and referred to under the 
 designation of " tilings which are not seenJ' These 
 are the objects and occurrences of the spiritual world, 
 which, though our bodily senses are incapable of dis- 
 cerning them, have at least as real an existence as 
 anything in the present visible world. There is the 
 invisible God, for example, whom no man hath seen 
 at any time, or can see, although to the reflecting mind 
 His existence and His agency are clearly discoverable 
 from the things which He hath made. There is the 
 Saviour too, who once dwelt with men on earth, but 
 hath now ascended to the right hand of His Father 
 in heaven, and of whom believers can only speak 
 here as of one " whom not having seen, they love." 
 There is the Holy Spirit, sanctifying the hearts and 
 enlightening the understandings of the faithful ; but 
 yet, like the viewless wind, which bloweth where it 
 listeth, discernible only in its operations and effects. 
 There are Angels also, ministering to the heirs of 
 glory ; and evil spirits, tempting them in ways which 
 we cannot trace, and by an agency of which we have 
 
Things not seen and Eternal. 359 
 
 no perception. And there are the all-important 
 realities of a future life, to which more particularly 
 the Apostle alludes, both in the preceding and in the 
 following verses, — heaven, with its matchless felicities, 
 and hell with its unutterable miseries, — both alike 
 veiled for the present from mortal eye, though plainly 
 set forth in the oracles of Divine truth as objects of 
 ultimate expectation in the world to come. 
 
 These and the like objects are, as I have already 
 said, not the less real for their being unperceived by 
 the senses. To no small extent may the certainty of 
 their existence be established, even by the light of 
 natural reason, while the clearer and fuller light of 
 revelation has still more satisfactorily assured us of 
 their unquestionable reality and of their incomparable 
 importance. 
 
 It must be owned, however, that notwithstanding 
 all the certainty and importance which really pertain 
 to them, the mere circumstance of these things being 
 for the present " not seen,'' lessens greatly the practical 
 influence they exert upon us, as often as they are 
 brought into competition with the visible objects by 
 which we are surrounded. These last are constantly 
 present to our view, and pressing themselves unbidden 
 on our attention. No effort is needed to ascertain 
 their reality or to feel their influence. We have but 
 to open our eyes, and we at once behold them. We 
 have but to stretch forth our hand, and they are 
 within our grasp. We have but to follow the natural 
 bent of our carnal minds, and we are thoroughly en- 
 grossed with them. The things invisible and eternal, 
 when contrasted with these, are thus prevented from 
 gaining from the mass of mankind that serious concern 
 
360 Things not seen and Eternal. 
 
 to which they are pre-eminently entitled. The most 
 weighty matters pertaining to religion, and bearing on 
 the interests and destinies of the immortal soul, are 
 too often regarded with apathy and indifference, while 
 the veriest trifles and vanities of the passing hour 
 arrest the fullest attention, and excite the keenest 
 interest. The " thinors which are seen " thus become 
 to most persons the only things which they deem it 
 worth their while to " look at." These form the 
 grand aim and object of all their doings, till to attain 
 and to enjoy them is the sole end for which they 
 live ; and though such a life is found again and again 
 to be fraught with no real or permanent satisfaction, 
 but, on the contrary, to be frequently productive of 
 the most wretched mortifications and disappointments, 
 yet is there no remission on that account of the 
 energy and zeal with which the mass of mankind 
 devote themselves to it. And, in the all-absorbing 
 interest with which secular schemes and occupations 
 are thus pursued, need it be wondered at, that the 
 great truths and animating promises of religion, as 
 having respect to the things which are invisible, are 
 so recklessly and habitually neglected ? 
 
 There are some persons, however, with whom, 
 happily, it is far otherwise ; some who have the eyes 
 of their understanding enlightened to discern the 
 reality, and to appreciate the excellence, of those 
 spiritual objects which others are despising, and of 
 whom it may truly be said, in the Apostle's language, 
 that " they look not at the things zvhich are seen, but at 
 the things which are not seen.'' 
 
 This statement indeed may appear, on a hasty 
 reading of it, to involve a contradiction. For how 
 
Things not seen and Eternal. 361 
 
 can we possibly " look " at " things which are not 
 seen " f The seeming contradiction, however, is easily 
 removed by considering that the act, which is here 
 described as " looking," is an act not of the bodily 
 eyey but of the mind, by which the great realities of 
 the spiritual world are believingly recognised and 
 earnestly regarded. We are told of Moses, that he 
 " feared not the wrath of the King, because he en- 
 dured as seeing Him who is invisible ; " that is to say, 
 the power and grace of the invisible God were manifes- 
 ted to his mind with somewhat of the same force and 
 vividness, as if he had actually beheld them, so as to 
 bear him up in the endurance of those outward trials to 
 which he was exposed. And what indeed is the de- 
 scription of Faith which has been so plainly given, 
 and so beautifully illustrated, in the eleventh chapter 
 of the Epistle to the Hebrews, but just a counterpart 
 of the statement in the text ? " Faith," we are there 
 told, " is the substance of things hoped for, the evi- 
 dence of things not seen." In other words, it is the 
 confident anticij^ation of things yet future as if they 
 were already possessed, and the realising persuasion 
 of things unseen, as if they were actually present to 
 our inspection. This Faith is to the believer instead 
 of sight. It brings the unseen objects of revelation 
 with clear and convincing certainty before the mind's 
 eye, and places the future blessings of revelation pre- 
 sently, as it were, and substantially, within the mind's 
 grasp. It is not that indolent acquiescence in re- 
 vealed truths, which multitudes are accustomed to 
 admit without being in any way practically influ- 
 enced by it ; but a lively, steady, heart-impressing 
 persuasion of them, which keeps them habitually 
 
362 Things not seen and Eternal. 
 
 present to the thoughts, and secures for them their 
 proper and prevaiHng power over the conduct. 
 And thus may it truly be said of the sincere Christ- 
 ian, that " he walks by faith and not by sight," — that 
 " the life which he now lives in the body is a life ot 
 faith," — or, as in the text, that " he looks not at the 
 things which are seen, but at the things which are 
 not seen." 
 
 This statement of the Apostle implies, with refer- 
 ence to " the things that are not seen," much more 
 than a mere conviction of their existence, however lively 
 and sincere. It implies also an earnest and steadfast 
 contemplation of them, — a turning of the thoughts to 
 them — a fixing of the affections on them — and a bend- 
 ine of our aims and efforts to the attainment of them. 
 The word here translated " look at " (o-KOTrowrajv) is 
 in other passages translated by the expressions take 
 heed, mark, consider, or observe attentively, and some- 
 times it means to aim at or pursue. Indeed, as has 
 been observed, our English word " scope " is derived 
 from it, which signifies \h^ general drift ox purpose oi 
 a man's conduct, — the mark he aims at, or the end he 
 Jias hi view. When Christians, therefore, are said to 
 " look at the things which are not seen," the meaning 
 evidently is, that they look at these things with ear- 
 liest attention, with eager desire, with steady contempla- 
 tion, ** as the marksman looks at the target which he 
 seeks to hit, or the racer looks at the goal which he is 
 striving to reach." But St Paul, when thus speaking, 
 does not mean that a believer is bitterly regardless of 
 the visible things which are surrounding him. So 
 long as he continues in the world, the business of his 
 calling, the interests of his family, the duties of his 
 
Things not seen and Eternal. 363 
 
 station, and other secular matters, have claims upon 
 him, which cannot be overlooked, — claims which 
 necessarily must, and actually do, demand from him 
 a considerable portion of his time and of his attention. 
 But these are not the things at which emphatically he 
 can be said to " look." For they are not the main ob- 
 jects for which he is habitually living, — the centre of 
 his most earnest wishes, — the aim of his highest efforts 
 and aspirations. He has other and far nobler ends 
 to prosecute than any which this world is able to pro- 
 pose to him. The God with whom he has to do — 
 the Christ who came to save him when lost — the 
 judgment-day on which he must be ready to give his 
 account — the glorious inheritance he must seek as 
 his everlasting portion, — these are the main objects 
 for which the Christian concerns himself — the mark 
 at which he aims — the end for which he lives — when 
 he looks " not at the things which are seen, but at 
 the things which are not seen.'' He ''sets his affec- 
 tion on the things which are above, and not on the 
 things that are on the earth." He " labours, not for 
 the meat which perisheth, but for that meat which 
 endureth unto everlasting life.'' 
 
 Nor let it be thought that the Christian, when thus 
 acting, is justly chargeable with folly or enthusiasm. 
 His conduct, on the contrary, is marked by the most 
 consummate prudence. For it is of a truth the " good 
 part " that he has chosen. And whatever may be 
 thought of him by other men, he has most solid and 
 satisfactory reasons for all that he does. 
 
 There are various grounds on which the believer's 
 preference of the things unseen to things visible may 
 be justified, — as, for example, their superior excellence. 
 
364 Things not seen and Eternal. 
 
 — th^iT greater suitableness to his moral and spiritual 
 nature, — or their higher claims to his dutiful atten- 
 tion and regard. But to these the Apostle makes for 
 the present no allusion. The simple and sole con- 
 sideration that is suggested by him, is, that " the 
 things which are seen a7'e temporal^' while " the things 
 which are not seen are eternal^ And truly this 
 ground of preference is of itself sufficient. To a 
 creature who is himself destined to immortality, the 
 permanence of the things he is to aim at is one of the 
 most essential of their requisites. No matter what 
 may be their qualifications in other respects, — will 
 they endure ? is a question that must needs be an- 
 swered. We are to last for ever ; can as much be 
 said of thein ? If not, then assuredly we cannot and 
 ought not to make them " our being's end and aim." 
 If we would worthily sustain our character as im- 
 mortal creatures we must have something to aspire 
 after, something to live for, that is destined to be as 
 undying as ourselves. 
 
 Now, the statement here made, that the " things 
 which are seen are temporal," is true in the broadest 
 and most absolute sense of the expression. The 
 mightiest of visible objects, as well as the most 
 minute, — those to which we are wont to ascribe the 
 greatest permanence — the towering mountain, the 
 trackless forest, the spacious continent, the unfathom- 
 able ocean, — are no less certainly doomed to dissolu- 
 tion than the most fragile and perishable of the crea- 
 tures that inhabit them. " This great globe itself," 
 and those countless worlds which shine above us in 
 the firmament, although they may continue for ages 
 to come to be exempt from all appearance of decay, 
 
Things not seen and Eternal. 365 
 
 have yet their appointed period assigned to them, at 
 the close of which they shall assuredly be dissolved 
 by the same almighty fiat which called them into 
 existence. 
 
 But while it is thus true of all visible objects, even 
 of the most enduring, that they are " temporal," this 
 statement may be emphatically applied to that class 
 of visible things which most of all concern us, — to the 
 scenes and circumstances of our own earthly condi- 
 tion, with which, as closely affecting our personal 
 happiness, we are all apt to be so deeply engrossed. 
 It is matter of common remark, Jioiv changeable is 
 our earthly state, and how insecure and uncertain is 
 our tenure of its most highly-valued and fondly- 
 cherished advantages ! Our health may by some 
 insidious malady be undermined ; our fortunes by 
 some unforeseen disaster may be ruined ; our most 
 promising schemes may be unexpectedly frustrated ; 
 our dearest friends may in a moment be snatched 
 away from us by the unrelenting hand of death. So 
 little can we tell how soon or how suddenly we may 
 be deprived of those earthly blessings which hitherto 
 we have been accustomed most fondly to love, and 
 most fixedly to cling to, among " the things which are 
 seen." On the other hand, our sorrows and calami- 
 ties are no less transient in this world than our bless- 
 ings. It not unfrequently happens that our worst 
 fears are disappointed as well as our brightest hopes. 
 Events which we are ready to regard as all against 
 us may, notwithstanding, be all concurring for the ad- 
 vancement, not only of our spiritual welfare, but even 
 of our secular prosperity. And though weeping en- 
 dure for a night, joy may come unexpectedly in the 
 
366 Things not seen and EternaL 
 
 morning. Our sorrows as well as our joys bear evi- 
 dence to the transient nature of " the things which 
 are seen." 
 
 But of all considerations in reference to this sub- 
 ject, it is, I think, incomparably the most affecting, 
 that the permanence of all visible objects, with respect 
 to us, is limited by the term of our own existence. 
 Although they were ever so durable in their own 
 nature, they are not, as regards ottr interest in them, 
 or our connection with them, more durable at the 
 most than the period of our life on earth. And what 
 is our life ? " It is even a vapour, that appeareth for 
 a little time, and then vanisheth away." 
 
 Yes, my dear Friends, the time is not far distant — 
 in the case of some of us it may be very near — when 
 " the things that are seen " shall be to us as if they 
 were not. The sun may then shine as brightly ; the 
 earth may bloom on as richly ; the busy crowds of 
 men may still follow their accustomed courses of 
 occupation or enjoyment as unweariedly ; but for tis 
 there will then be no portion in anything that is here 
 below. Our cares, and toils, and hopes, and fears, 
 and joys, and griefs, shall have been for ever ended. 
 The grave shall have closed on our ashes ; and the 
 very remembrance of us, though cherished for a while 
 by those who were wont to love us, may ere long 
 have utterly perished from off the earth. 
 
 Surely tJiis reflection, that "the things which are 
 seen are temporal," — fleeting in themselves, and still 
 more fleeting as regards our personal interest in them, 
 — ought to rebuke that doting infatuation which would 
 choose them as the portion of the soul, and cling to 
 them as if they were capable of ministering to its solid 
 
Things not seen and Eternal. 367 
 
 and permanent satisfaction. We ought unquestion- 
 ably to build our happiness on something more durable 
 than that which the events of a few days may over- 
 throw. It is not easy to conceive a sadder spectacle 
 than that of a creature formed for immortality con- 
 fining his aims and efforts to the acquisition of such 
 perishing pleasures and possessions as the world can 
 give him, and utterly neglectful of those weighty mat- 
 ters which tend to his everlasting welfare in the life to 
 come. 
 
 For be it remembered that while " the things which 
 are seen are temporal," " the things which are not seen 
 are eternal." Yes ; we have some better things pro- 
 vided for us — some nobler objects to aim at and to 
 live for — than the sphere of sense and time is able to 
 supply. We have the invisible God to look to as our 
 sure portion, though heart and flesh be ready to fail 
 us ; and He is for ever the same, without variableness 
 or shadow of turning. We have the blessed Jesus to 
 trust in as our Saviour, of whom, though now we see 
 Him not, we are yet assured that "He liveth to make 
 intercession for us," and that He is " the same yester- 
 day, and to-day, and for ever." We have as our 
 sanctifier that Eternal Spirit whom the Lord hath 
 given to abide with us continually, and whose gra- 
 cious influences are able to support us in all the most 
 trying vicissitudes of this mortal state, and to comfort 
 us in the endurance of its severest afflictions. And 
 as our ultimate destiny in the life to come, we have, 
 if we are true Christians, a blessedness awaiting us 
 greater than tongue can describe or heart conceive. 
 The inheritance we are taught to look for is " incor- 
 ruptible," our crown "unfading," our kingdom "im- 
 
368 Things not seen and Eternal. 
 
 movable," our habitation " a building of God eternal 
 in the heavens," our portion a " fulness of joy " at 
 God's right hand for ever. 
 
 If these things be so, what more need be urged to 
 show the incomparably stronger claims to our regard 
 possessed by *' the things which are not seen " than 
 by those which are seen ? Eternity is of such im- 
 portance that it gives infinite weight to what might 
 else be insignificant. Even a small degree of happi- 
 ness or of misery, if it were to last for ever, must, in 
 the estimation of every rational being, be held to ex- 
 ceed the very greatest degree that is destined soon, 
 and perhaps suddenly, to come to an end. But when 
 it is considered that eternity in the present instance 
 is combined with other interests equally transcendent, 
 — the joys which await us in a future world being as 
 exalted in their nature as they are permanent in their 
 continuance, — we can have no hesitation in admitting 
 that the Christian's is the wisest, or rather the only 
 wise course, when he " looks," as the main scope and 
 object of his being, " not at the things which are seen 
 and temporal, but at the things which are not seen and 
 eternal." 
 
 And mark, I beseech you, how blessed are the conse- 
 quences with which this course of action is attended. 
 St Paul tells us in the context of some of its results, 
 as exemplified in his own personal experience. It 
 reconciled him to the endurance of the severest hard- 
 ships. It led him to consider all the sufferings and 
 persecutions with which he had been visited as only 
 a light and momentary affliction. It enabled him so 
 patiently to bear them, and at the same time so pro- 
 fitably to improve them, as to render them, under 
 
Things not seen and Eternal. 369 
 
 Divine grace, instrumental in working out for him 
 " a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." 
 And such, in all cases, will be its result. A steady 
 contemplation of the " things which are not seen " will 
 sweeten the bitterest cup, and lighten the heaviest 
 burden, and teach us to " reckon that the sufferings of 
 this present time are not worthy to be compared with 
 the glory which shall be revealed in us." And while 
 it will thus reconcile us to our afflictions, it will no 
 less effectually arm us for the resistance of all the 
 allurements and temptations which now encompass 
 us. The pleasures of the world will be powerless to 
 entice us, or its riches to bribe us, or its honours to 
 dazzle us, when we bear in mind that they are fleeting 
 and contemptible, and look beyond them to those 
 purer pleasures, and more precious riches, and far 
 brighter honours, which shall form our everlasting 
 portion in the life to come. " Having respect to the 
 recompense of the reward," we shall learn to esteem 
 all earthly considerations as less than nothing and 
 vanity in comparison with it ; and " knowing that we 
 have in heaven a better and more enduring substance" 
 than any which this world is able to supply, we shall 
 take meekly every loss, and bear patiently every trial, 
 and brave cheerfully every danger, and resist sternly 
 every temptation, and discharge faithfully every duty, 
 and make it our constant study and endeavour, by 
 growing in grace and in godliness from day to day, 
 to render alike clear our title to possess, and our 
 meetness to partake of, the inheritance of the saints. 
 
 And now, my dear Friends, let me ask you, in con- 
 clusion, how stands the case in this respect with yozi f 
 
 2 A 
 
370 Things not seen and Eternal. 
 
 Which of the two classes of objects we have been 
 considering receives the chief portion oi your interest 
 and regard ? Are you hving for time or hving for 
 eternity ? Are you seeking as your chief portion the 
 things above or the things below ? Is earth, with 
 its fleeting pleasures and possessions, or heaven, with 
 its endless glories and felicities, the grand object on 
 which your desires have been fixed, and to which 
 your aims and efforts are directed ? 
 
 Are there some among you who cannot sincerely 
 adopt the Apostle's language, — some, on the contrary, 
 whose hearts witness against them, that " the things 
 which are seen and temporal " are engrossing them, 
 to the utter exclusion of all serious concern respect- 
 ing the " things which are not seen and eternal " ? All 
 such we would most affectionately admonish of the 
 wretched and fatal delusion that is possessing them, 
 while we pray for them that God of His great mercy 
 would deliver them from it. Consider, I beseech 
 you, how slight a hold you have of life itself And 
 as regards all those temporal things with which the 
 frail thread of life alone connects you, — remember to 
 how many unforeseen contingencies they are exposed ! 
 how easily you may lose them ! how soon and how 
 suddenly they might be for ever removed from you, 
 or yoic from them ! how incapable they are, even 
 for the present, of administering true peace and con- 
 tentment to your hearts ! how powerless to support 
 and comfort you in those trying times of sickness and 
 of sorrow, and of approaching death, when comfort 
 and support are most sought for ! But above all, be- 
 think you, how utterly unprofitable is all that the 
 world can hold out to your attainment, in the pros- 
 
Things not seen and Eternal. 37 1 
 
 pect of that unchangeable and eternal state of bliss 
 or of woe that is awaiting you hereafter ! The 
 world may bid high, and promise fair to obtain 
 the full devotion of your hearts. But what can it 
 bid, that is not a thousandfold outbidden by the great 
 and precious promises of the Gospel ? Believe me, 
 dear Brethren, the time is approaching — to some 
 among you it may soon come — when the vanity of 
 all things temporal, as compared with the infinite 
 importance of things eternal, will be clearly, fully, 
 and convincingly displayed to you. But oh, do not 
 wait until you be thus taught — when, alas ! it will 
 be too late — the folly and danger of slighting your 
 eternal interests, for the sake of things that perish 
 in the usine. Learn to think now of this world and of 
 the world to come, as you must at last think of them 
 at the hour of death and on the day of judgment. 
 For of this you may be confident, that whatever will 
 appear to be their relative importance then, such is 
 in truth their relative importance now. If the world, 
 and all the things that are in the world, will then appear 
 to be utterly inconsiderable in comparison with the 
 everlasting welfare of your souls, you may rest thor- 
 oughly satisfied that they are so even now, and that 
 they would even now appear to you to be so, were 
 you capable of seeing them in their true light, and of 
 estimating them according to their real value. Where- 
 fore I pray and beseech you to walk circumspectly, 
 not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time, be- 
 cause the days are evil, and giving heed to those 
 things which belong unto your peace, before they 
 be hid from your eyes. I hope better things of 
 you, however, dear Brethren, and things which ac- 
 
372 Tilings not seen and Eternal. 
 
 company salvation, though I thus speak. I trust 
 that there are many to be found among you, who 
 are able in some measure to say with the Apostle, 
 that you are *' looking not at the things which are 
 seen, but at the things which are not seen," and are 
 cherishing, as he did, the constant and constraining 
 conviction, that " the things which are seen are tem- 
 poral, while the things which are not seen are eternal." 
 If such be the case, the path which you have chosen 
 is worthy of all the diligence and earnestness with 
 which, by the help of God, you can persist in your 
 adherence to it. For surely you cannot be too eager 
 in your desires or too vigorous in your efforts to lay 
 hold on eternal life. With all the attainments you may 
 have already made, there is much more that still 
 remains to be accomplished — much knowledge to be 
 acquired, many graces to be cultivated, and not a 
 few weaknesses and sinful tendencies to be over- 
 come, before you can be warranted to think that 
 your course is finished, your labour ended, and your 
 meetness for the coming glory fully perfected and 
 matured. ., 
 
 Nor is it only by diligence in the discharge of 
 duty, that it becomes you to show that you are 
 " walking by faith and not by sight," but also by your 
 meek and patient endurance of affliction. Whatever 
 trials and distresses may befall you, it is your blessed 
 privilege to believe that they are sent in love and 
 fraught with mercy, and to view them as light and 
 but for a moment in comparison with that far exceed- 
 ing weight of glory, for which they are intended and 
 fitted to prepare you. Leave it to those who are 
 seeking their portion in this life, to be overwhelmed 
 
Things not seen and Eternal. 373 
 
 with despondency and deep dejection, when the sources 
 of their earthly happiness are dried up, and the cher- 
 ished objects of their earthly affection are taken 
 away. But you, who are seeking the things which 
 are above, have sources of peace and comfort still 
 remaining, which none of the calamities of this life 
 can in the least impair. While you do well to mourn, 
 you have no cause to be disconsolate, even for the 
 loss of the dearest friends you had on earth. In 
 truth they are " not lost, but gone before." They 
 have but outstripped you a little on the way to 
 heaven ; Christ has only called them home before 
 you. If you truly be partakers of their faith, you 
 shall ere long be restored to their society in a better 
 world, where " there shall be no more death, neither 
 sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more 
 pain." 
 
 Nay, Brethren, you ought to be all the more 
 strengthened and quickened in your Christian walk 
 by the removal of them. It ought to wean you more 
 thoroughly from a vain world, and to make " the 
 things not seen " all the more attractive to you. For, 
 is it not comforting for the believer to reflect, when one 
 Christian friend is taken from him after another, how 
 his store of friends is just multiplying in the heavenly 
 mansions ? ** Earth's losses are heaven's gains ;" and 
 earth is always thus losing and heaven gaining. For 
 God is ever and anon gathering into His house 
 above, all that is fair and excellent and well beloved 
 of those of whom the world was not worthy. We 
 did well to prize them and love them while they 
 continued with us, as rare jewels, kindly lent us for 
 a season. But let us not repine, now that they are 
 
374 Things not seeji and Eternal. 
 
 with equal kindness, though it may be for ends which 
 we cannot fathom, reclaimed and taken from us. 
 They are lost to us on earth, but they are gained 
 for us in heaven, as fresh accessions to that com- 
 pany of friends, who will welcome us ere long into the 
 everlasting habitations. They have left us behind 
 to mourn for them awhile, — but, blessed be God, not 
 to mourn as if without hope. If our dwellings be 
 cheerless and desolate in their absence, our Father's 
 house, where they now occupy their appointed man- 
 sions, is all the more brightened and cheered to us 
 by their presence there. And what if they shall 
 never more return to ms? Suffice it to know that 
 we, if alike faithful, shall go to them. And assuredly, 
 both for us and for them, that is far better. 
 
 Wherefore, Brethren, comfort one another with 
 these words, that the peace of God, which passeth 
 all understanding, may keep your hearts and minds 
 through Christ Jesus. And unto Him that is able 
 to keep you from falling, and to present you fault- 
 less before the presence of His glory with exceed- 
 ing joy, to the only wise God our Saviour, be glory 
 and majesty, dominion and power, both now and ever. 
 Amen. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS. 
 
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