(From the " Edinburgh Daily Review.")
THE REV. JOHN KER'S SERMONS.
THIS volume will be hailed by very many who were wont, either
regularly or occasionally, to listen to the eloquent words of the beloved
preacher with admiration and delight, and who have regarded him
with affectionate sympathy in those past years of his affliction during
which his nanly, persuasive voice in the pulpit has been seldom
heard.  Many more, we believe, will now cordially welcome this
offering of his ministry for the universal Church, and rejoice, through
means of it, to become acquainted with the noble utterances of one of
the purest and most gifted minds among the religious teachers of the
age. Mr. Ker furnishes incontestable evidence in these sermons of
possessing genius of a high order, in rare combination with eminent
wisdom and truest goodness. He displays great compass and exquisite
balance of mental powers, all enriched by a high and varied culture.
He is possessed of a glowing imagination, a clear understanding, a
sound judgment, and a warm heart, —a logical faculty singularly
strong in its grasp, and an intense sympathy with the true, the beautiful, and the good. He looks over the field of sacred thought with
the soul of a true poet, and discourses on the great themes of revelation as one feeling the throb of the higher life; and hence every truth
he touches is presented with a vividness and warmth of coloring which
commends it at once to the approval of the reason and the acceptance
of the heart. This living power he wields is greatly enhanced by an
affluence of felicitous metaphor, in which a poetic fancy clothes profound and beautiful thoughts, making them instinct with life, and
stamping them in lasting impression on the soul. It is thus he speaks
of Christian struggles after trust of the Divine mercy, in memory of
past sins: " This is one of the sorest trials of a renewed life, that it
is built over dark dungeons, where dead things may be buried but not
forgotten, and where, through the open grating, rank vapors still
ascend." And thus he describes the longing of the human spirit for
something higher than a knowledge of the facts and laws of the
external world: "How sad would this be, to be ever enlarging our
vision of endless mechanism, but never to come in sight of a great
intelligent Maker, to perceive wondrous life in worlds around and beneath, but no life above or before; life only tending to death, and




2
never reflecting a life that lives for ever, - rain-drops dropping in a
vault, and gravitating eternally to darkness, but no dew-drops returning the look of God, and drawn up as by sunbeams into his presence."
And thus he sets forth the union of working and watching in every
true life: "In every soul there should be the sisters of Bethany,
active effort and quiet thought, and both agreeing in mutual love and
help. But Mary no longer sits at the feet of Christ and looks in his
face. She stands at the door and gazes out into the open sky to watch
the tokens of his coming, while in this hope her sister in the house
still works." The volume throughout sparkles with gems of thought
such as these, and in many Scripture allusions new and deep meanings gleam out from the divine words, touching the springs of the
inner life. The discourses embrace a wide range and diversity of subjects, not a few of which are out of the common course of pulpit
ministration. They all revolve, however, around the central truth of
the gospel —Christ crucified; but this is viewed in many fresh and
varied lights. In these, special prominence is given to the Great Personality, the Word dwelling on earth, God's Son and Man's Brother,
drawing human souls to Him in trust, in love, in sympathy, by the
fulness of grace and truth He displays. Several of the sermons
traverse the higher paths of Christian and philosophic research, and
this with pre-eminent ability; they abound with many brilliant and
original thoughts, while they evince consummate skill in conducting a
lofty argument to successful issues. But the greater portion of the
discourses are devoted to topics intimately connected with daily
Christian faith and practice, and are marked throughout by an admirable exhibition of Scripture truth, of elevated sentiment, of genial
sympathies, and of practical power. The style in all is in full harmony with the thought, flowing on in measured, musical cadence,"as a very lovely song of one that can play well on an instrument, "
- always luminous, elegant, vigorous, captivating, often deepening
into tender pathos, or rising into lofty eloquence. Take it all in all,
we do not know a volume of sermons superior to this in the language.
Others may surpass them in some single feature of excellence, but in
the manifold combination of merits they possess we could not name
any that take rank above them within the whole compass of our religious literature.




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sIDe pav pabn anb tye Bua n,
AND OTHER
SERMONS
BY
THE REV. JOHN KER,
GLASGOW, SCOTLAND.
NEW YORK:
ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS,
630, BROADWAY.
1869.




CAMBRIDGE:
PRESS OF JOHN WILSON AND SON.




THE following Sermons have been given to the press
chiefly for the sake of those whom the author was accustomed to address by the living voice, and whom he
can, at present, reach but seldom through that means.
His purpose will be served if the volume helps them in
the way of remembrance, and more than served if,
through God's blessing, it shall prove of any use beyond
their circle. Most of the Sermons, though not all, have
been preached, and the exception is referred to in order
to account for some of them exceeding the limits which
are ordinarily assigned to spoken discourse. The subjects havenot been selected with any attempt at unity
in the illustration of Christian doctrine or duty. An
effort has rather been made to secure a variety of topics.
When human knowledge and life are spreading out into
ever wider circuits, the Christian ministry must seek
to show itself a debtor to men of every class and character, and must endeavor to prove that there is no de.
partment of thought or action which cannot be touched
by that Gospel which is the manifold wisdom of God.
The more we study the way of God's commandments,
the more shall we find it as broad as his other works,
and increasingly rich to meet all the developments of
human nature. At the same time, it is hoped that the




vi
unity sought to be indicated by beginning and ending
the volume with Christ Jesus, is not merely formal,
and that, whatever may be the theme, it will be seen
and felt to base itself on that One Foundation, and to
strive, though all imperfectly, after the excellency of
his knowledge.




CONTENTS.
I.
CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.
PAGE
"His going forth is prepared as the morning; and he shall come unto
us as the rain."- Hos. vI. 3...........  7
II.
CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.
"Jesus answered and said unto him, If a man love me, he will keep
my words."-JoHN xIV. 23...........                26
III.
CHRIST IN  SIMON'S HOUSE —THE PHARISEE'S MISTAKE.
"Now when the Pharisee, which had bidden him, saw it, he spake
within himself, saying, This man, if he were a prophet, would have
known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him;
for she is a sinner."-LUKE VII. 39.........       44
IV.
GOD'S WORD SUITED TO MAN'S- SENSE OF WONDER.
"Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of
thy law."- PSALM CXIX. 18........... 69




Viii                        CONTENTS.
V.
INCREASE OF KNOWLEDGE, INCREASE OF SORROW.
PAGIE
"He that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." - ECCLES. I. 18.  76
VI.
GOD DECLINING FIRST OFFERS OF SERVICE.
"And Joshua said unto the people, Ye cannot serve the LORD: for
he is an holy God; he is a jealous God; he will not forgive your
transgressions nor your sins." —JOSHUA XXIV. 19......    90
VII.
A WORLDLY CHOICE AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.
" And Lot lifted up his eyes, and beheld all the plain of Jordan, that
it was well watered everywhere - even as the garden of the LORD,
like the land of-Egypt, as thou contest unto Zoar. Then Lot chose
him all the plain of Jordan."- GEN. xiiI. 10, 11.......   104
VIII.
IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
"Then Satan answered the LORD, and said, Doth Job fear God for
nought? "-JOB. 9................ 120
Ix.
NOT FAR FROM THE KINGDOM OF GOD.
"And when Jesus saw that he answered discreetly, he said unto him,
Thou art not far from the kingdom of God." - MATT. XII. 34..  147
X.
WORK AND WATCHING.
"For the Son of man is as a man taking a far journey, who left his
house, and gave authority to his servants, and to every man his
work, and commanded the porter to watch." —MARE xir. 34.. 168




CONTENTS.                           ix
XI.
THE BURIAL OF MOSES-ITS LESSONS AND  SUGGESTIONS.
PAQG
"And the LORD buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, over
against Beth-peor; but no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto
this day." —DEUT. xxxIV. 6...........           184
XII.
MOSES AND STEPHEN —THE OLD TESTAMENT AND THE NEW.
"And when Aaron and all the children of Israel saw Moses, behold
the skin of his face shone: and they were afraid to come nigh
him."- ExoD. xxxIV. 30.
" And all that sat in the council, looking steadfastly on Stephen, saw
his face as it had been the face of an angel." —ACTS VI. 15... 203
XTII
FAITH'S APPROACH TO CHRIST.
(BEFORE COMMUNION.)
"And behold, a woman, which was diseased with an issue of blood
twelve years, came behind him and touched the hem of his garment: for she said within herself, If I may but touch his garment
I shall be whole." —MATT. IX. 20............  221
XTV.
CHRIST NOT PLEASING HIMSELF- CHRISTIAN AND
SOCIAL TOLERANCE.
"Let every one of us please his neighbor for his good to edification. For even Christ pleased not himself; but, as it is written,
The reproaches of them  that reproached thee fell on me." —
ROM. xv. 2, 3.................  233
XV.
THE CHANGES OF LIFE AND THEIR  COMFORTS IN GOD.
"Yet the Lord will command his loving-kindness in the daytime, and
in the night his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the
God of my life." —PSALM XLII. 8........... 251




2I                          CONTENTS.
XVI.
THE GOSPEL AND THE MAGNITUDE OF CREATION.
PAGB
"When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and
the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, that thou art
mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him? "PSALM VIII. 3, 4.................. 266
XVII.
REASONS WHY GOD SHOULD CONTRADICT OUR HOPE
OF IMMORTALITY  IF IT WERE FALSE.
"If it were not so, I would have told you." -JOHN XIV. 2.....   287
XVIII.
CHRIST'S DELAY TO INTERPOSE AGAINST DEATH.
"Then when Mary was come where 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." -JOHN XI. 32.........   311
XIX.
JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS-THE END OF EVIL ASSOCIATION.
"Then Judas, which had betrayed him, when he saw that he was condemned, repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieces of
silver to the chief priests and elders, saying, I have sinned in that
I have betrayed the innocent blood. And they said, What is that
to us? see thou to that." —MATT. XXVII. 3, 4......     330
XX.
CHRIiT'S RETICENCE IN  TEACHING  TRUTH.
"I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them
now." - JOHN XVI. 12....             353




CONTENTS.                           xi
XXI.
CHRIST'S DESIRE TO EAT OF THE LAST PASSOVER.
(BEFORE COMMUNION.)
PAGE
"And he said unto them, With desire I have desired to eat this passover with you before I suffer."-LUKE XXII. 15......   371
XXII.
CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.
(AFTER COMMUNION.)
"I pray not that thou shouldest take them out of the world, but that
thou shouldest keep them from the evil." — JOHN XVII. 15...  389
XXIII.
HOPE AND PATIENCE.
" It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD." -LAM. III. 26........   407
XXIV.
THE ETERNAL FUTURE CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.
"It doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that when he
shall appear we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is."
-1 JOHN III. 2.4........ 427








THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.
I.
hitst  thq  ag-antn  and  the -fjaht.
" His going forth is prepared as the morning; and He shall
come unto us as the rain." — HOSEA vi. 3.
HESE ancient Jews must have been very
much like  ourselves, neither better nor
worse, and as we read about them, we can
read our own hearts. The preceding chapter contains an account of their sins and backslidings,
and of their vain attempts, under the miserable consequences, to find help in man. At last it concludes
with a declaration on the part of God that he will return to his place, till they seek him, and with a
promise that this shall not be in vain, " In their affliction they shall seek me early."
The present chapter begins with a fulfilment of
this promise.  The children of Israel take with them
words, and say, " Come and let us return unto the
Lord." It is not in the power of any creature to assuage the wounds of the heart, when they have been
(7)




8      CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.
felt in all their depth. It is only in Him who made
the heart, then, to heal it; and he can and will. The
God who has established great laws around us for
the preservation of his world, for giving man life and
light and sustenance, has made his arrangements
also, for the cure of our hearts' maladies, and the salvation of our souls. He has gathered all these arrangements closely around his own person.  Our
body's life may lie in knowing his laws; but our
soul's life consists in knowing himself.  "Then shall
we know, if we follow on to know the LORD: his going forth is prepared as the morning; and he shall
come unto us as the rain."
These words were, no doubt, fulfilled in many a
deliverance of the Jewish people; but their own most
ancient commentators find their last fulfilment in
the great promised Messiah, to whom all the prophets
gave witness. The promises of the Old Testament
are waves which urge each other on, to rise and fall in
many a deliverance, until at length they break on the
great shore of all safety, - the salvation which is in
Christ, with eternal glory. And it would surely be a
shame for us Christians to do less than ancient Jewish doctors did, to fail in finding here a prophecy of
the world's Redeemer. It is Christ, then, whomi our
faith must grasp under these two figures, the Daydawn and the Rain.
The world is a great book of symbols for the soul
of man to read God by, and they are never so interesting and beautiful as when, with the warrant of
Scripture, the name of Christ is put within them, not
for mutual obscuration, but that they may shine forth




CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.         9
illuminated and illuminating. The Day-dawn and
the Rain,-there must be something of common
likeness in them, for they both apply to the same
great Person, and yet there must be something distinctive meant to be conveyed, for the word of God
uses no vain repetitions, no mere figures of rhetoric.
When we come to the New Testament, we find clearly
revealed what the ancient prophets dimly suggested.
There is a twofold coming of the Son of God, the
first in his own person to establish and confirm the
gospel, the second in his Holy Spirit to apply to the
heart. The one of these may very fitly be compared
to the morning, the other to the rain. Indeed, these
are the two figures most frequently used in this connection all through the Bible. Christ himself is the
Light of the world, the Sun of righteousness. His
Spirit is poured forth as floods on the thirsty; and
when, on the great day of the feast (John vii. 30), he
invited men to come unto him and drink, " he spakoe
of the Spirit which they that believe on him should
receive." We shall seek to apply these figures, then,
to Christ, - to look upon his personal coming as represented by the morning, his coming in his Holy
Spirit as symbolized by the rain, and to present them,
first, in the common resemblances which they have;
and, second, in some of their points of distinction.
I. The Day-dawn and the Rain represent some resemblances between the coming of Christ in his gospel and in his Spirit.
They have this resemblance, first, that they have
the same manifest origin. The day-dawn comes from




10      CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.
heaven, and so also does the rain. They are not of
man's ordering and making, but of God's. They are
of the good and perfect gifts which come from above
from the Father of lights. And they bear the imprint of God's hand upon them, - the morning, when
it walks forth from the opening clouds of the east
tinges the mountain-tops with gold, and floods the
earth with glory, - and the rain, when it shakes its
bountiful treasures far and wide over waiting lands,
till the little hills rejoice on every side. Their height,
their power, their breadth of range, mark them out
from all man's works.
And it is not less so with the gospel and Spirit of
Christ. Men neither invented them nor discovered
them. It is that God "' who commanded the light to
shine out of darkness that shines into men's hearts
the light of the knowledge of his glory in the face of
Jesus Christ." And to a man who can look aright
they have the same impress of divinity. They carry
their evidence with them, like heaven's sun and
heaven's rain. They are above man's finding out,
naturally above his conception. As the heavens are
high above the earth, so are the great thoughts of
God in them above man's thoughts. The Son of God
coming from heaven to die for man, the Spirit of God
coming from heaven to live in man, to change man,
the enemy of God, into his friend, his heir, and to do
this for all who are but willing to make God's Son
and Spirit welcome, these are thoughts which have a
majesty and range so great and godlike that they show
their origin. " This is not the manner of men, 0
Lord God! "  Men may discuss these things hardly




CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.    11
and coldly when they are outside of them, and may
admit or deny them, as a nation of the blind might
the sunlight, or the tribes of the waterless desert the
rain; but let them know and feel their power, and
there is but one resource, to say, " It is of God."  It
is the sunlight within which lets men see the sun
without. When a man is brought to say, " One thing
I know, that, whereas, I was blind now I see," he becomes witness to a spiritual world opening around
him in all its brightness and blessedness, with " its
eyes like unto the eyelids of the morning;" and he
can challenge all who would impugn its divine reality," iHast thou commanded the morning since thy
days, or made this day-spring to know its place? "
If he come to feel the gracious showers of the Spirit
of God upon his soul, in refreshment, in comfort, in
strength for hard duty, in patience under sore trial;
if he feel the weary heart revived as a flower after a
sultry noon-day lifts its head amid the rain-drops; if
he should learn that this experience belongs to many
beside and around him, he can answer the scorner of
a Divine Spirit, " Canst thou lift up thy voice to
the clouds that abundance of waters may cover thee? "
Here, then, let us seek to learn the origin of our
faith in a study of the grandeur and comprehensiveness of its plan, and in a feeling of its power in our
souls. The same God who makes morning to the
world by the sun, gives the dawn of a new creation
to the spirit of men through the Saviour.
The next point of resemblance we mention is that
they have the same mode of operation on the part of
God. That mode of operation is soft and silent.




12     CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.
The greatest powers of nature work most calmly and
noiselessly. What so gentle as the day-dawn rising
mutely in the brightening east, and pouring its light
upon the eye so softly that, swift as are those rays,
the tenderest texture of the eye endures -no wrong?
And what more soft than the spring's falling rain?
It may come preceded by the thunder, but it is gentle
itself, and when most efficacious descends almost as a
spiritual presence, " as the small rain on the tender
herb, and as showers that water the grass."
And like to these in their operations are the gospel and Spirit of Christ. When our Saviour came
into the world it was silently and alone. All heaven
was moved, and followed him down to the threshold,
but few on earth knew it. One solitary star pointed
to the humble birthplace, and sang hymns of it, heard
only at night by the watching shepherds. He walked
our world through years softly in the bitterness of his
soul. He left where the common eye beheld but an
ignominious sufferer, one of three, and men became
aware that the Son of God had come and gone only
when the clear light began to break in the eastern
sky from that great work of his; and when the openi
gate of mercy was thrown back, with a cross before it,
to call the lost and wandering home. And as it was
with his descent into the world, so is it, in the general,
with his entrance by his Spirit into the heart. There
may be the thunder and the mighty rushing wind before it, the providences may be loud and violent, but
the Spirit itself is like the rain. It moves from soal to
soul among the rising generations, and there is no
outward crisis to tell of the birth of souls. It is like




CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.    13
the dew that falls at night, and in the morning it is
there, and man cannot tell when it formed itself, like
a celestial guest, within the flower-cup. The kingdom of heaven cometh, not with observation. And,
even in times of revival more marked, for such times
are promised and should be expected; yet even in
such times, the Spirit's great work is not in the earthquake, or the mighty rushing wind, but in the still
small voice. Unless it meet us there, in the secrecy
of the soul, in the privacy of the closet, in the rising
to seek Christ at his grave, in the quiet resurrection
morn, when the busy world and all the guards are
asleep, unless it bring the soul into close and secret
communion with Christ himself, it meets us not at all.
In his gospel and his Spirit, Christ is moving through
the great inner world which men too much neglect, -
the world of souls; and there in the solitude of the
heart, alone with him, it must be ours to seek and
find.
There is a further point of resemblance in this,
that they have the same form of approach to us,in perfect freeness and fulness. The morning light
comes unfettered by any conditions, and so, also, decends the rain. They are, like God's great gifts,
without money and without price; and they come
with an overflowing plenty, for freeness and fulness
go hand in hand. The morning sun shines with
light for every eye, however many, and were there
millions more there is enough for all.  So it is with
the rain. Every field and flower may have its full
share, and none need envy or rob another. " Thou
visitest the earth and waterest it, thou greatly en



14      CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.
richest it with the river of God, which is full of wa
ter."
And in this they are fit and blessed emblems of the
way in which Christ approaches us, both with his gos.
pel and his Spirit.  That gospel opens on the world
priceless and free as the light which waits but for the
eye to be unclosed to see and share it all. And there
it stands, as full as it is free. It is one thing, like the
sun, for all, and it is all for each one. However
many have come to Christ, there is enough for us in
the Sun of Righteousness to-day, as if he had risen
but for the first time, and there will be till the world's
close. How plain and simple this is, and yet it needs
an effort on our part to appreciate it in its simplicity,
to appropriate it in its perfect freeness, to feel that
we can do no more to earn Christ's grace than to
earn the daylight, and that it is just as freely offered
to us. Fellow-sinners and fellow-Christians, let us
ask Himself to teach it to us, to teach it by appearing
in his own person and work, as the light of life.
"Behold me, behold me! Look unto me and be ye
saved, all ye ends of the earth!" and then, blessed
revelation! by that opening of the eyes to him, it
shall be all our own! " They looked unto him and
were lightened; and their faces were not ashamed."
So free is the gospel, and so free, also, is the Spirit
of Christ. He is that " free Spirit," that " liberal
Spirit," of whom the Psalmist speaks, who waits but
for our request to come down and fill our hearts
with his refreshing rain. Nay, the petition we raise
is of his prompting.  He comes unasked, and when
we think not of him, like the " dew of the Lord that




CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.    15
waiteth not for man nor tarrieth for the sons of
men."  The Spirit and the bride both say, " come!"
Let us be firmly persuaded that Christ is offering
his spirit as freely to us as his gospel.  Nor has the
Spirit less fulness.  He is ready to pour water on.the thirsty, and floods on the dry ground. It is his
special work to exhibit the abundant freeness and
riches of the gospel of Christ, to unfold and analyze
it that we may see it in its manifold beauty, as the
sunlight is analyzed by the glittering dew-drops, or
held up before the world in the emerald rainbow. So
Christ himself has said of the Spirit," He shall glorify me, for lie shall receive of mine and shall show it
unto you (John xvi. 14). Therefore let us be assured
that the Spirit of Christ draws near to us without any
fettering condition, and without any restraining measure, even as the gospel does.  " Behold I will pour
out my spirit unto you, I will make known my
words unto you."  And let us carry this faith into
our prayers.  The promise of the Spirit by Christ is
followed by this command, " Ask, and ye shall receive, that your joy may be full.
The last point of resemblance we mention is, that
they have the same object and end.  It is the transformation of death into life, and the raising of that
which lives into a higher and fairer form. The morning sun and the morning rain-cloud may seem wide
apart in their purpose, may appear at times to obstruct each other, but they have one great aim.  The
sun and the rain come to the dying seed, and both
together draw it from darkness to light, and build it
up into the blade, the ear, and the full corn in the




16    CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND TRE RAIN.
ear, that God's world may live and praise his name.
Both are rich in times of refreshment, - the sun after
the dark night, the rain after the parched day; and
after both the flower raises its head, and the birds
sing, and men are glad.
Here, too, they are emblems of the gospel and
Spirit of Christ. These, inll like manner, have the
same aim, - life and revival. The gospel of Christ
is the word of life. Its aim is to bring dead souls
into contact with Him  who has said, "I am come
that they might have life."  The Holy Ghost is the
Spirit of life. It is for this that he urges, entreats,
and strives with the soul in secret, —that he is so
patient in waiting, and so loath to leave. Christ is
no less earnest for our eternal life in the one than in
the other.  We are too ready to forget this, to think
less of the love of the Spirit sinking down into tile communings of the heart and conscience, and working
there in silence and in secret, than of that transparent love which is written on the word with a beam
of light; but they unite in the same merciful purpose,
and it will never be well with us until we meet Christ
as willingly when he comes to strive with us in solitude, as when he openly proclaims his gracious call.
And as both work together for life, so both must cooperate for revival. If God's heritage is to be refreshed when it is weary, it must be with the outpouring of the Spirit equally with the presentation
of a clear, full gospel. The ancient Church was
aware of this, as well as we who look back to the day
of Pentecost. They knew that upon "o the land of
God's people shall come up thorns and briers, until




CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.   17
the Spirit is poured upon us from  on high," and
when the individual believer prayed for return of life
to his soul, he bent his knees with these words, " Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation; and uphold
me with thy free Spirit."
II. We come now to some of the points of distinction between them.
The first we mention is, that Christ's approach to
men has a general, and yet a special aspect. The
sun comes every morning with a broad, unbroken
look, shining for all and singling out none. There
is a universality of kindness about him which men
with all their powers of limitation have never been
able to abridge. The poorest man and the richest,
all classes and all things, have the same access to his
undivided effullence. But the rain as it decends
breaks into drops, and hangs with its globules on
every blade. " God maketh small the drops of water."
There is a wonderful individualizing power in rain.
It comes to the minutest part of God's world with its
separate message, trickles from joint to joint of every
grass stem, creeps into the smallest crevice that is
opening its parched lips, pierces to the blind roots of
things, and, where it cannot carry God's light into
darkness, seeks to allure from darkness up into the
light of God.
There is this twofold aspect in the coming of
Christ. The gospel of his grace enters the world
with the broad, universal look of daylight. It is as
wide and open to all, with its'" Behold the Lamb of
God! " It singles out none, that it may exclude
none,- that it may be ready to bless a whole guilty
2




18    CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.
world with the same impartiality as the sun, as God
himself when "He looketh abroad and seeth under
the whole heaven." And this lies not only in the
words of the gospel offer, but in the real provision of
it. The arms of God are as wide as his call, and the
power of Christ's atonement is as unlimited as the
invitation to it. Each one of us knows here, not
merely what God is doing for ourselves, but for every
other man of the race, and can say with confidence,
" Come with me into this broad and blessed sunlight; it is for thee as for me; nay, I could not
know that it is for me unless I were sure that it is
for thee also, and for every man, in as entire sincerity."  But Christ comes after another manner
with his spirit. Here no man can tell how God is
dealing with another. He approaches the door of
the single heart, and says, when there is no ear to
listen, " Behold, I stand at the door and knock." In
the hour of thought, in the depth of night, in the
shadow of trial, in the agony of remorse, he makes
the soul feel that it is alone with Himself. With
every one of us, surely, Christ has been thus dealing; taking us apart, and speaking to us of things
that none knew but the soul and he; making our
heart thrill and tremble as he touched it, till we
have cried out, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to
do  "  If we have felt this, if we are feeling it, there
is a terrible responsibility in it, where none can help
but himself. He wrestles with us in the dark, that
we may cling to, and cast ourselves on him. who
wrestles with us: " Lord, I believe; help thou mine
unbelief,"-until, bearing the soul's burden, he




CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.    19
helps us from the dark into the daylight, and gives us
the assurance of a love there that is also special and
personal, "Christ loved me, and gave himself for
mne."
Our next remark is, that Christ's coming is constant, and yet variable. The sunrise is of all things
the most sure and settled. What consternation
would seize the world if it delayed one hour, if God
had not commanded the day-spring to know its
place! But for the rain man knows no fixed rule.
It may come soon or late, in scanty showers or plentiful floods. This is dependent on arrangements
which are no doubt certain, but which we have not
ascertained, and never may. The sovereign hand of
God, giving and withholding, appears distinctly in
the rain, as if he wished that we should always have
before our eyes in his working, the two great features
of law and freedom.
And it is thus, too, with the coming of Christ. He
visits men in his gospel, steady and unchanging as
the sun. Wheresoever we open the pages of his
book, his promises shine out sweet as the light and
pleasant to the eyes. They come with a constant
clearness and freshness which ought to make us feel
that at every moment God is waiting to be gracious
to us,- -" I bring near my righteousness; it shall
not be far off, and my salvation shall not tarry."
Whatever changes may take place in us, whatever
sins and backslidings and fearful imaginings of unpardonable guilt, there, written in the Rock of Ages
forever, stand the words, "Him  that cometh unto
Me, I will in no wise cast out." The sun of Christ's




20     CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.
gospel remains moveless in the midst of heaven till
the world's day is closed, and makes it to every sinner a day of salvation and an acceptable time. But
with the Holy Spirit it is otherwise. His coming
may vary in time and place, like the wind, which
bloweth where it listeth, or the rain, whose arrival
depends on causes we have not fathomed. Thle gift
of God's Spirit is no doubt regulated, also, by laws;
but these laws are hidden from  us in their final
grounds. God has linked these more directly with
his own absolute sovereignty, and reserved the ultimate moving powers of the universe in the hollow of
his hand. The clouds of revival which pass from
land to land, who can predict their course, or trace
their laws, and say why they pass on, and why
they fall in blessing? This one thing we do know,
and it is the most practical, that prayer is closely
connected with the outpouring of the Spirit. He
who has bidden us ask our daily bread from our
heavenly Father, and the rain that is to give it, has
bidden us ask, also, from him this good gift of his
Holy Spirit, and has assured us that he will not deny
it. The spirit of prayer is itself, indeed, the spiritual
rain begun, but we may detain it, and increase the
refreshing showers. We can lift up our voice to the
clouds, that abundance of waters may cover us.
And, if there be intermission in the coming of Christ
by his Spirit, while there is constancy in his gospel, it
is, that we may be kept from the presumption of
spiritual delay. He who says to us all through life
" Now is the day of salvation," says, also, " To-day, if
ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts." If




CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.        21
it be in the early rain, or the latter, in the tender
feelings of youth or the solemn thoughts of darkening years, let us beseech life from the quickening
spirit while he is near, lest the gracious influences
pass by, and our souls be left parched forever.
We observe, further, that Christ's coming may be
with gladness, and yet also with trouble. What in
the world can be more joyful than the returning
sun! Every creature feels it, and wakes up in cries
and songs; and the dead, dumb earth puts off its
dark, and on its bright and many colored robes,
when God covers it with light as with a garment.
It is the emblem of God's sunrise in Christ, to the
world and to every individual soul. " I have blotted
out as a thick cloud thy transgressions, and as a
cloud thy sins. Sing, 0 ye heavens, for the Lord
hath done it! shout, ye lower parts of the earth;
break forth into singing, ye mountains, 0 forest, and
every tree therein; for the Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in Israel!
But God comes also in the cloud, and there is a
shade over the face of nature, — sometimes in the
thunder-cloud, dark and threatening, and bird and
beast shrink into their coverts, silent and awed. It
represents the manner in which Christ sometimes
comes, through his Spirit, in the conviction of sin.
The conscience is shaken by the threatening thunder
of his law, and his eye looks into the heart like
lightning, while his voice declares, "Thou art the
man."  It was this coming that so shook the Jews
at the preaching of Peter, and that made an earthquake in the soul of the Philippian jailer, more ter



22     CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.
rible than that around him, till he cried, "What
must I do to be saved?" These operations may
seem at times to conflict with each other, but as the
God of nature is consistent in all his works, so also
is the great God our Saviour, Jesus Christ. The
same wisdom and wonderful power of combination
which are seen in the external creation, appear also
in the spiritual universe, of which Jesus Christ is
Lord and God. The things that are around us, in
the world of matter and sense, are patterns of things
in the heavens. We are not only destined for an
eternal life, but we are in the midst of it, in so far as
we realize a spiritual existence, and the symbols and
shadows of it are pressing in upon us every day in
these works of God which are not dead works, but
to a true eye, spirit and life. And as God's sun and
cloud in the world around us are not at variance,
neither are the gladness that lies in the light of his
gospel, and the trouble that may come from the convictions of his Spirit.
We remark, last of all, that Christ's coming in his
gospel and Spirit may be separate for a while, but
they tend to a final and perfect union. They are indispensable to each other. The sun may come and
beat upon the earth, but it will make it only parched
and dead without the rain. No more can the clearest
shining of the gospel save the soul or comfort it
without the Holy Spirit. Or again, the rain might
come without the sunlight. The dew might lie all
night long on the branches, but there will be no life
nor gladness till the morning comes to change sorrow into joy, to brighten dewdrops into sparks of




CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.      23
sunlight, and scatter them over all the boughs till
they break out into the green of leaves and the hues
of blossoms. No more could the sorrows of a broken
heart and the convictions of the conscience give the
Christian life, and its flower and fruit, without the
presence of Christ in the gospel of his grace. The
gospel without the Spirit, would be the sun shining
on a waterless waste. The Spirit without the gospel,
would be the rain falling in a starless night. Blessed
be the Lord God, who hath showed us light, who
hath sent us also rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons filling our hearts with food and gladness!
There are some Christians to whom Christ is present more in the cloud. His Spirit works in them by
conviction of sin and depressing views of themselves,
but they have only a small portion of the sunlight
and the joy. What they need is to keep before them
the clear, simple view of Christ in the gospel, doing
all, suffering all, and leaving us only to receive
with thankful hearts, — becoming all our salvation,
that he may be all our desire. There are others who
have a very distinct perception of the gospel in its
freeness and fulness, but they have ceased to derive
from it the comfort they once enjoyed. They need
the rain. They have been too neglectful of the secret
life of religion, which is its soul. They have been,
if not falling into habitual sin, yet treading only the
hard round of some outward duties, and avoiding
communion of soul with God. This is to grieve the
Holy Spirit, and so to lose his seal. What these need
is, more earnest prayer for his refreshing influences,
and a heart open to welcome them and use them: " I




24       CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.
will be as the dew unto Israel; and they shall revive
as the corn, and grow as the vine."  Our souls can
only live and grow when the sun and the showers intermingle; when the Spirit's dew comes by night,
and the gospel brings in the day. Then it shall be
with us as " the light of the morning when the sun
arisoth, even a morning without clouds; as the tender grass springeth out of the earth, by the clear
shining after rain."
It must not be forgotten, with all this, that there
are those who know Christ neither as the morning
nor the rain, who have been resisting alike invitation
and conviction. It is possible to be in the midst of
light and remain blind, to have the dews of God falling thick and free, and to continue in the centre of
them parched and dry. It is well to think of another
appearance which is as sure as this. He who visits
us now as the morning shall come as the consuming
fire; and who may abide that day of his coming?
He who makes his descent now like the rain, shall cause
it to be as " the storm that shall sweep away the
refuges of lies, and as the waters that shall overflow
the hiding-place." This coming is also prepared, as
sure as sunrise, fixed as the great ordinances of
heaven, which approach us with incessant and silent
steps when we think not of them. How dreadful to
have the brightness of his coming flash upon our sills
till we cry to mountains and rocks to hide us! Prepare to meet thy God! and may he himself prepare
us by inclining our souls now to open to that Saviour
who has long been visiting us, morning by morning,
that we may be ready to welcome his final appearance




CHRIST THE DAY-DAWN AND THE RAIN.   25
as the end of all our sorrows, the sum of all our
hopes, and the dawn of an everlasting and ever
blessed day.




II.
riist and his 1ord.
" fesus answered and said unto him, If a man love Me, he will
kee many words." -JolltN xiv. 23.
N this very significant verse there is a twofold
love spoken of, with the consequence that
iu~   ~flows from each.  Thlere is the love of mall
to Christ and its result, and then the love of the Fatfier to the lover of Christ, with its corresponding result. Either of these is more than enough for one
subject of discourse, and we select at present the
former - the love of man to Christ, and its effect.
There is no necessity for occupying much time in
explaining terms.  "To love Christ " is to have the
heart go forth to him when, in his wonderful life, and
still more wonderful death, lihe has become the object of faith to the soul.  It is love not to an abstraction, but to a great living personality -" the man
Christ Jesus "- " God manifest in the flesh."  " To
keep his words" is not merely to preserve them in
the memory, but to put them into the heart, and,
deeper still, into the conscience, and then to let them
(26)




CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.            27
come forth in the life as visible and practical things,
just as seed, if put into the right soil, will, by God's
ordinance and through his blessing, spring up into
blade and flower and fruit. Of all this we cannot
now treat, for the subject is as large as practical
Christianity, and we confine our attention to two
things: the connection between Christ and his words,
and the connection between loving Christ and keeping his words.
The first thing to be considered here is the connection between Christ and his words. It is worthy of
remark that Christ himself sets these two objects distinctly before us, as standing over against each other,
separate and yet related. We must fix our eye attentively on them; and this leads us to observe that
Christ and his words are both very fully made known
to us. This is not always the case with those whose
names have gone far and wide among men as teachers
of the race. Sometimes we may have a great personality who has stirred his own and subsequent generations, and given a mighty impulse to the world, but
we have few or none of his words. That there was
immense power in him, we cannot doubt, but it is
impossible for us rightly to estimate it. Its secret
has died with the man. He himself stands there,
looming grandly in the distance; but he stands mute.
We listen eagerly across the breadth of centuries,
but there is no voice, or, at most, a few broken
echoes that have come down by a seeming accident.
Many such are found in the Gentile world, eminent
evidently in their day, among crowds of admiring
disciples; but the source of their strength is dead




28           CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.
like themselves. The name of Pythagoras rises as
one of these,-great, and yetwe scarcely know why.
In the Bible history there are also many such.
Noah, the preacher of righteousness, is one of them,
and "Enoch, the seventh from Adam, who prophesied," is well-nigh another, but for the floating fragment, like " a wandering voice," on which an apostle
has set the seal of verity. Such, also, to a great extent, is Abraham. He rises, a grand and venerable
figure in the dim past, in the gray morning of the
Church's history; but there are few utterances from
him, and his life speaks to us only because Christ
shines back on it: " Abraham rejoiced to see my day,
and he saw it, and was glad." He may be compared
to that statue of the Egyptian  Memnon, dumb
through the dark night, and uttering a sound only
when the rising sun touches him with his rays.
Or, on the other hand, we may have great and noble words from a man, but we may know little of his
personality. How much of fire and passion there is
in the greatest poet of Greece, how much of human
wisdom and the experience of life in the greatest poet
of England, and yet how little we know of their history to enable us to see how they became what they
were, or to let us read their words by the light of
their life!  There are thoughts and aspirations in
Plato, perhaps the most marvellous in any man uninspired; but how dim a view we have of the path
along which lie moved in the midst of his contemporaries! To come again to Scripture, what glorious utterances we have from Isaiah, to elevate and warm
even the Christian heart, while he looks all down the




CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.          29
ages to the grand consummation of the church and
world; and yet what do we know of himself? And
many of those prophets whose words have descended
to us as the most precious legacy of the ancient dispensation, when " they spoke of the sufferings of
Christ, and the glory that should follow," have disappeared in their theme like the lark in the sunlight
which it sings.
But in Christ both the personality and the words
have been brought out into the clearest and fullest
illumination. It is evident that in the plan of God
both of them were meant to be of supreme value to
man.  The inspiring Spirit has been careful to
breathe them side by side into the sacred record, and
Divine Providence has preserved them from age to
age, that all men may look on and listen to these
two - the person and the words of Jesus Christ.   I
We have not only the words of his inspired apostles, which are in the truest sense Christ's, but we
have his own personally uttered words. We would
have felt unsatisfied unless we had heard the law of
love from  his own lips, the very thoughts that
breathed, and the very words that burned when the
divine Wisdom spoke, and our wish is met. The recording witnesses have been so minute, so loving, in
giving us the scene, the incidents, the very looks, that
the living fragrance is still in the utterances, and the
dew of youth upon them, and we can sit down with
his disciples on the hill, or by the lake, or in the
house, and listen to the great Teacher, as if he were
in the midst of us, while we wonder at the gracious
words that proceed out of his mouth, and set them




30            CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.
above all other words beside. "Never man spake
like this man."
And with the words, God has been pleased to give
us the life, as never a life was given, by those four,
each different, yet each the same; a separate mirror
to take in the side presented to it, but all disclosing
in life-like harmony the one grand person, each so absorbed in his theme that he himself is forgotten, his
personality lost in the object, -all eye, all ear, all
heart for Christ alone. If this were not divine, we
might say that it is the perfection of biography; it
makes the historian nothing; it makes him he looks
at all in all, and it puts every one of us where the
witness himself stood, and lets us take in the great
life as he did. It is one testimony to the greatness
of the life that it so burned and fused itself into these
men that they can do nothing but reflect it again,
with this unconsciousness which is higher than the
highest art. There was inspiration guiding them,
true, but this inspiration took, as its most powerful
instrument, the overmastering might of that wonderful personality. When we look to it there, it stands
so grand and godlike in its outline, so minute and
human in its details.  It seems marvellous to us
when we reflect how these little touches never bring
down the grandeur of the whole, that his person there
presented should be so lofty, above all men's previous
thoughts of loftiness, and yet so near us, so accessible,
so simply human. It is for this, without doubt, that
we have glimpses into his infancy and youth, that we
may know him to carry the heart of a child of humanity all through; for this that he is brought into




CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.          31
contact with the most varied relations of man's life,
mingling with and hallowing them.  We become
acquainted with him not only in the great congregation, but in the house of Bethany, at the marriage
and at the funeral.  He speaks words of wisdom
which the wisest men have not yet measured, and he
takes children in his arms. When he is dying, and
completing that grandest work of man's redemption,
we behold his heart opening on every side to let us
see what is in it, —to his mother, to his friends, to
the dying criminal by his side, to his persecutors, to
his Father; and, when he rises to occupy his throne
in heaven, we see his human heart then in the last
look we have of him as he turns round with outstretched arms to bless those he leaves behind.
There is no life we know so well as that life which it
concerns us most of all to know, no personality to
which we can come so close as the greatest personality that ever appeared on earth. Our dearest friends
have a curtain that they draw between a part of their
nature and us.  It is right they should; for the
utmost personality is for God alone. Sometimes we
feel as if we had not fathomed our own souls. A
gulf opens up which we had not suspected, that
makes us start back as from the chasm of an earthquake. But we know and feel that we can touch the
inmost life of Jesus Christ. He has nothing to conceal; and whatever of the wonderful may grow up
for our admiration, nothing strange can start forth to
affright us. It has been so ordered of God, because
our own soul and life are to rest on him. He is to be
more to us, for security and peace than any friend,more to us than we are to ourselves.




32           CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.
The words of Christ, then, and Christ himself, are
both fully made known to us. It is necessary it
should be so. The gospel has its expression in his
words, but its power and spirit are in his life. He is
himself the "Word made flesh," - the greatest utterance in the greatest person; and the language of
his apostles is " What we have seen and heard declare we unto you, that ye may have fellowship with
us."'
There is this further to be observed, that as they
are made known to us, there is a perfect harmony
between Christ and his words. It is. implied in this
saying of our Lord that he and his words are in
agreement, else they could not co-exist and coalesce
as he says they must do. This is not always the case
with a man and his words. Sometimes we can love
and esteem a man, and yet we cannot keep his words.
Our hearts are drawn to him with strong affection as
amiable and generous; but there is a strange and
painful revulsion when we come to his utterances.
They carry neither conviction to the understanding
nor moving power to the soul. Or, again, we may
admire and approve the words, but we cannot love
and esteem the man. All that comes from him may
be stamped with wisdom and lighted up with a perception of the noble and elevated, but the man himself is hard and unsympathetic, or feeble in moral
resolve. It is with pain that we turn from the words
of Bacon to his life, and from the scorn of worldly
ambition, by the author of the " Night Thoughts," to
his eager pursuit of it in courtly circles. One of the
most melancholy contrasts is between the words of




CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.           33
the wisest of men and the exemplification which he
himself gave of wisdom.  How different when we
come to Christ! Our deepest moral nature sets the
seal of approval on his words. " The words of the
Lord are pure words, as silver tried in a furnace of
earth, purified seven times," and our emotional nature is drawn to himself with the strongest love and
reverence. "' He is the chief among ten thousand,
and altogether lovely." We can take his words and
himself and set them side by side, and interweave
them, like music, with thought in perfect harmony.
" Thou art fairer than the children of men; grace is
poured into thy lips, therefore God hath blessed thee
forever."  When he inculcates humility, he himself
" is among the disciples as one that serveth."  When
he speaks of purity, " He did no sin, neither was
guile found in his mouth."  When he urges the law
of kindness," lie goes about doing good." When he
asks us to make sacrifice for others, he dies on a cross
for his enemies. There are many who praise the noble morality of Christ, but they fail to observe sufficiently the personality which illuminates and glorifies it, which makes it sparkle and glow with innumerable lights like those of the firmament, and which
gives it, like his love, " a height and depth, a length
and breadth, that passes knowledge."
While the words and life are in harmony, it is yet
true that the life is greater than the words, and, indeed, this is necessary to full harmony in any really
grand character.  A  man should always be more
than his expression. We feel when we are in contact
with some men, that there is a reserve of power be3




34            CHRIST AND H1S WORDS.
hind their highest utterances, that whatever they may
say or do, they are capable of something above it, and
that no outcome of their strength enables us to feel
we have measured their mind. This is pre-eminently
true of the Lord Jesus Christ. What the poet says
of his victory over the apostate spirits in heaven, is
true of every manifestation he gave on this earth;
"' yet half his strength he put not forth." The people
felt it when, it is said, they heard him speak " as one
having authority; " and we feel it still when we come
not to the words, but to him through them. It is not
that he puts life into them, but that the life in them
is felt to come from a life beyond them in himself.
He gives drink " as out of great depths." We rise to
the understanding of his own climax — " the way,
the truth, the life," - and know  what a different
book the gospel record would have been, if, in some
abstract way, all the sayings of it had been preserved,
and the grand Presence, which floods it with light and
life, blotted out.
Now, this superiority of the person of Christ to his
words, great as they are, is not, as we have remarked,
destructive of harmony; it is the highest reach of it.
In all things that perfectly agree, there must be a
great and a greater, in some such way as God agrees
with his universe, which is his expression of himself,
while yet he remains in an infinite behind it, making
it, in the language of the Bible, "' the hiding of his
power." It is one of the most important steps a man
can take in his spiritual history, when he passes from
listening to the sayings, to looking up into the face of
the person of Christ, and learns that the words are




CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.           3b
only rays from the countenance of the " Eternal life,"
the natural breathings from him who is " the Word
made flesh." It is like passing from report to reality,
from Christ's echoes to the living Christ, and can be
expressed in the manner of those Samaritans, " Now
we believe, not because of thy saying, but because we
ourselves have seen him, and know that this is, indeed, the Christ, the Saviour of the world;" or, in
that of the beloved disciple, " He dwelt among us
(and we beheld his glory, - the glory as of the only
begotten of the Father), full of grace and truth."
We come now to the second thing to be considered,
- the connection between loving Christ and keeping
his words. And we remark, that the way in which
our Lord states this, brings before us the central truth
of Christian doctrine, namely, that, in some way, there
must be a change of heart before there is a change of
life. We must begin to love Christ before we can
keep his words.  Christ is the law-giver of God's
world, and before we can obey his laws we must be on
terms of amity with himself. This implies that we
know him to be at peace with us, for as we are made,
we cannot love where we dread. God's friendship
must come before God's service. Now, the very opposite of this is frequently taught, - that there is to
be service before there can be friendship, and that
peace can only be purchased by obedience. We need
not so much consult the Bible to see the falsehood of
this, as look into our own hearts, where we may feel the
impossibility of doing anything that will bear the look
of service, in a spiritual sense, until the heart is in it.




36            CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.
But there comes in here a view which admits this,
which dwells upon it very strongly and beautifiully,
and which has done much to bring out the value of
the personality of Christ in its bearing on our service.
It shows how he creates a new power in the soul, not
by his example, merely, but by his whole being,not simply by teaching us and moving before us,but by, in a manner, transfusing himself unto us.
This would be all right, if it did not say, or imply
without saying it, that this is all.  The true view
includes this and much more, for truth takes in
all that is true in error. The vital deficiency in this
partial representation is that there is no sufficient
note taken of sin. It passes over the whole of this
part of the question with a casual reference, or a
hazy indistinctness. Sometimes it seeks to depreciate
the Epistles which bring out so forcibly the contrasts
of guilt and atonement, and hints at a Christianity
which would be purer if it were confined entirely to
Christ himself, as if a man should say that he preferred the sun to his beams, and proposed, for the
sake of simplicity, that his radiance should be confined to his disk. But, apart from this, the view we
refer to does not enter into the central power of either
the words or the life of Christ. He himself speaks,
all through, of sin and salvation, as strongly as the
Epistles. The lost sheep, the prodigal son in his
alienation and misery, and the toil and pain of recovery, what are these but his way of putting before us
guilt and redemption? The love borne to his person,
he emphatically tells us, is in proportion to the sense
of forgiveness. Little love where there is little sense




CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.           37
of sin and pardon; abounding love where this has
taken possession of the soul. It fails to take in the
greatness of Christ's person. It may hold a divinity
in him as long as the warmth of old views linger in
its veins; but his person must fall as his work fades,
and at last sink to a bare humanity.  His agony
ceases to have any meaning; his darkness of soul loses
its mystery; his cry no more shakes the heart; his
cross awakens no burning fire; and the love of Christ,
shrinking from its shoreless length and breadth, is still
more robbed of the height and depth which have given
it, and always will, its power over the soul of man.
Irreconcilable with the letter and spirit of Christ's
own teaching and life, this view fails to deal fully with
the problem of man's nature, which demands a solution. We have to decide this, not by single instances
of pure and self-denying lives, which will appear in the
most opposite systems, but by what the mass of humanity require in all time, and in every possible extremity. No remedy is sufficient which does not
touch the worst case. Whatever system does not
answer the deepest cry of an awakened conscience,
cannot long retain the homage of the heart, and loses
its power to regenerate the life.  It is no undue assertion to say that the system commonly known as
evangelical, has been tested over a breadth of field,
and at an intensity of strain that the other cannot lay
claim to. That other may look well oftentimes as a
picture, but it has yet to be proved that it will not
break down under the hard stress of the real world,
the stern requisitions of duty, the assault of temptations, the fierce outbursts of passion and, worse than




38            CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.
all these, the slow, insidious corrosion of a fallen nature. Let us take but one word of Christ,'" If any
mail will come after me, let him deny himself, and
take up his cross daily and follow me; " (Luke ix. 23)
and if we consider what it means we shall feel that
the strongest motive that can help a man to aim  at
the steady observance of this, is the view of Christ
himself bearing his own cross, till, lifted up on it, he
bears our sin. This, at least, we can affirml, that, in
past times, when other lines of battle have been
pierced through and utterly broken, it was falling
back on this reserve which gained the victory.
Now, that Christ should here lay down love to himself as the foundation of all our fidelity to him, does
not, indeed, of itself, prove his atonement; but it is
in the firmest bond of union with it, and taken in
connection with all his teaching and life and death, it
receives a power of meaning which no other view of
Christ can give to it. Love to him can face every
duty and dare every danger and endure every sacrifice, when it sees him filling the universe from the
throne of heaven to the grave of earth, with self-sacrifice for man, and self-sacrifice to save him from the
most terrible of all evils, exclusion from the favor and
life of the God who made him. Less than this cannot
explain either the Epistles or Gospels, neither can it,
in the last extremity, bear the weight of what Christ
requires of those who own his allegiance.
We remark, next, that the connection between loving Christ, and keeping his words brings before us
the Christian philosophy of morality. As Christians,
we believe that the morality of Christianity is supe



CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.           39
rior to ally other in the kind of duties it gives prominence to, and the light in which it presents them;
and candid men, who profess to stand outside, generally admit this. But what is often overlooked is that
the superiority of Christian morality does not consist
so much in these details, as in its central principle of
action.  It lies much more in its moving power than
in its mechanism. There is no system but Christianity that has gathered all the grand motives to morality
round a person, and made the strength and essence
of them spring from love to him. The ancient Gentile teachers had, no doubt, a personal influence over
their disciples; but they constantly pointed to duty,
as something apart from themselves, and founded its
claims on its inherent fitness or rightness. In the
Old Testament there is a foreshadowing of the Christian principle ill God descending into personal relations to men, saving and blessing them, and founding on this a claim  to obedience.  "I am the Lord
thy God that brought.thee forth out of the land of
Egypt: Keep my precepts."  In the Christian morality, this is the one grand motive, love to the person
of Christ, flowing out into submission to his will.
He himself puts it thus, and so does all the New Testament.
There would be a fatal objection to this, if He were
either less than he is, or if he had done less for man
than he has done. If he were less than God, his
claim of implicit obedience would be impious; and if
he had done less for man than save him  from the
lowest depth, he could not require all his nature to be
given up to him. But here, again, the morality of




40            CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.
the gospel is seen to be closely connected with its
doctrines. The divinity of Christ forbids the charge
of assumption on his part, and his atonement prevents
the feeling that there is over-exaction from us. No
other view will make Christian morality and doctrine
cohere. When we take this view, the morality all
centres most fitly in obedience to Christ, because he
is all in all to the soul, its Lord and God, and because he has conferred on it the infinite and eternal
benefit of deliverance from sin. Then the Christian
morality rises into a clearness, a consistency, and
grandeur worthy of a divine revelation. The great
God, from whose life and likeness his intelligent creature, man, has fallen away, restores him to obedience
by leaving the throne of judgment, and coming down
to him as a Friend and Saviour. In the successive
ages of a preparatory system, he descends, step by
step, into closer relations of alliance, clothes himself
with personal attributes, and binds men to himself by
personal ties, until he reaches the lowest step, which
is also the highest, for lowest condescension is highest
love. He becomes one with men, in nature, in history,
through life, and through death (deepest mystery of
all!); becomes one with them in his becoming sin,
that he may establish the claim of love, which makes
him Lord and Legislator on a new ground, that he
may qualify himself for creating obedience by atytraction, instead of commanding it by law. The supreme
Governor changes his throne, or, to speak more correctly, returns to it in a new and higher relation; and
the moral homage of his human creatures, and, as we
believe, of all his intelligent universe, gathers round




CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.            41
him in Christ, — love saving moral order, or, as the
Old Testament expresses it, " mercy embracing
truth."
This we understand to be our Lord's teaching of
morality and that of his apostles, and to be something
not only larger than any other morality, but in its
principle altogether different.  Those who have studied it at all are aware that it is from  this principle it derives its power; and that those men who
speak of detaching the gospel morality from the
gospel doctrine, are as rational as the men who would
pluck a blossom from a tree, and think to have it
come to fruit.
There are only three conceivable ways in which
morality can be thought of as springing up in man.
The first is by something like an instinct, and that
this does exist in man we are far from denying. But
how feeble, how fluctuating, how contradictory it is
when left to itself, we have only to look abroad on
the world to see. If it were perfect in all its parts on
any such principle, morality by instinct would be
morality mechanical.  The second way is by reason,
and that reason can do much for morality must also
be admitted. It can trace it to the source of right,
see it to be fit, and branch it out in its details; but it
can never furnish it with sufficient motive power; it
becomes weakest when passion is strongest; it can
fall back only on one part of our nature, and that the
hardest, the practical understanding.  Hence, reason
in morality is much more a thing for the philosopher
in his closet than for the mass of men in the struggle
and strain of life. The only third way is an appeal




42            CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.
to love, and love going forth to a person. It is this
way that Christianity has chosen. It sets before men
the person of Jesus Christ, noblest and most beautiful
in itself, and infinitely attractive in its self-sacrifice
for them.  To love him is an impulse of the heart,
and this impulse is the spring of all morality. This
can touch all men from the highest to the lowest, from
the philosopher to the child. It does not exclude
reason in morality, for Christ, while drawing morality
round his person, appeals to its fitness, and urges its
right. He does not even neglect its instincts. By
his spiritual quickening lie develops these, and furnishes them with the highest object. He raises morality up to a new and loftier instinct, which does not
rob it of freedom, making it the outflow of the new
nature which he creates within. And then, filially,
all this morality is found to rest, not in homage to a
created intelligence, either within or without us, but
in submission to the highest personality, the supreme
God, out of love, and in the sharing of his life and
likeness. To enter in any way into the conception of
these truths is to perceive signs of their divine origin.
If, then, we would be partakers of this noble Christian morality, the true way, the only way, is to come
closer to the person of Christ as set before us in God's
word, looking on him, and learning to love him.
The Christian character is not built up like a cold
and lifeless column, stone by stone, it grows like a
tree from within, and its root is love to Christ. Love
will be the interpreter of all his words. We can
read doubtful meanings and solve the casuistries of
duty, when we look through the eye of a friend into




CHRIST AND HIS WORDS.           43
his heart. Love will be the recorder of all his words.
It imprints them when they come from lips that are
dear, and brings them up with all their tones and
echoes till they fill our soul. And love will carry
them all out into our life again. It will baptize his
words in his own spirit, and point to every one of
them with sacramental power, "' This do in remembrance of me."




4hriset in Imon   ousta. h, hariS es i, eake.
"N ow when the Pharisee, which had bidden him, saw it, he spake
within himself, saying, This man, if he were a jrophet, would
have known who and what manner of woman this is that
toucheth him; for she is a sinner." - LuKx vii. 39.
HE woman in this narrative was some open
sinner of the city, shunned by all who made
any pretensions to religion.  She had come
in the way of Jesus of Nazareth, and had looked on
and listened to him.  She perceived in him  more
than in the common religionists of the day, a holiness
of which the rest made only a profession, and which
smote her to the soul with a sense of her own vileness, and with this a strange, unearthly compassion
that drew her to him and changed her. She heard
some of his words, it may be those of the lost sheep,
or wandering prodigal, till her heart was melted and
she entered the kingdom of heaven by that door
which bears above it, written by its Monarch's hand,
"Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast
out." She followed Christ to the Pharisee's house,
but when he entered it, the light of her soul seemed
to vanish, and she was left without, cold and dark.




CHRIST IN SIMON'S HOUSE.        45
An atmosphere surrounded him there which closed
her heart and chilled her hopes. Yet there was an
attraction in the guest stronger than the repulsion
from the owner.  She pressed through to the Saviour's feet, and gave, in the act recorded here, the
most touching expression of her contrition and love:
"She stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them
with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and
anointed them with the ointment." The shame of
deepest unworthiness, and the unutterable gratitude
of a saved soul, were struggling within. Words are
poor at such a moment. A divinely-taught instinct
gave her the expression, and the world has been
filled with fragrance. But the Pharisee did not perceive it; he was surprised at her daring and at
Christ's forbearance. Respect for his guest kept him
silent, but lie had hard thoughts about it. The character of the great Teacher convinced him that he
could not think lightly of sin. What then can account for his accessibility to such a sinner?  He
must surely be less acquainted with the secrets of
human hearts than is believed.  " This man," he
thinks, " if lie were a prophet, would have known who
and what manner of woman this is; for she is a sinner."
It is not at all necessary to set down this Pharisee
as an empty hypocrite. There is an easy off-hand
way of dealing with him and all his brethren, which
is consistent neither with truth nor charity, and
which leaves out of view some of the most instructive
sides of human nature. So far as we can see, he had




46           CHRIST IN SIMON'S HOUSE.
a very sincere regard for Christ, and an honest reverence for the law of God as he knew it. But the law
was to him very like a human statute-book that takes
note of the external conduct, and its transgressors
were to be treated like outlaws and criminals. The
view of the law, as a deep, spiritual, all-embracing
element, had scarcely dawned upon him, — a view
which gives an unspeakably more profound idea of
the evil of sin, but at the same time, a more tender
sympathy with those who are infected with it. With
such a view of law and sin, he could see a very little
into the character and plan of Christ, who came not
to cut off decayed branches, but to operate upon the
roots and vital powers, that he might save and change
and regenerate. The picture of this sinful woman
with Christ and the Pharisee on either hand, is
another of those instances which show the gospel to
be a book for all time. The two ways of dealing
with sin are still to be met with, - the hard repulsion of formal righteousness, and the sympathy of
Divine love. Sympathy has wonderful eyes, but nothing is so blind as spiritual pride; and we shall endeavor to look at the mistake this Pharisee commited:
I. As IT REGARDED CHRIST. He could not read
Christ's nature, and undervalued it. He imagined
that Christ's accessibility to this woman arose from
want of knowledge, when it came from the greatness
of his compassion. The Pharisee, from his narrow
circle of view, was pitying the ignorance of Christ
that he could be so easily deceived, while Christ was
looking into the Pharisee's thoughts, and about to




CHRIST IN SIMON'S HOUSE.        47
give a striking proof of his knowledge of them. He
saw into the woman's heart and life deeper than the
Pharisee did. He judged them by a law far higher,
and loathed sin as no man ever will do while he
dwells in the clay. But he did not gather up his
garments from the touch of the sinner, because in
his heart there was an infinite fountain of mercy.
What a difference was this from the conception of the
Pharisee! The forbearance of Christ had its source,
not in ignorance, but in the deep, far-reaching vision
of infinite love, which wills not the death of any sinner, but that he should turn and live; and which
made him ready not only to receive the lost, and
wipe away their tears, but to pour out his own soul
unto the death to save them. But every man reads
another by the heart in his own bosom; and the hard,
self-righteous Pharisee is utterly unable to comprehend him who does not break the bruised reed, and
who has a joy greater than all the angels of heaven
over one sinner that repentetli.
Here is a man with his natural reason in presence
of the most glorious object in God's universe, —a
contrite heart and a compassionate Saviour, —and
he is as blind to the sight, as were those who passed
by the cross of Calvary reviling and wagging their
heads. It is proof that the natural man did not invent the gospel, since he cannot comprehend it. The
mercies, like the judgments of God, are " far above
out of his sight."  "As the heavens are high above
the earth, so are God's thoughts higher than man's
thoughts."  In regard to Christ, he mistook also his
way of rescuing from sin. If it entered into the




48           CHRIST IN SIMON'S HOUSE.
Pharisee's thought at all to rescue from sin, it would
be by keeping the sinner back from him, thanking
God, and even feeling a selfish kind of thankfulness
that he was not like him. The sinner must be made
fully sensible of his exclusion from the sympathy of all
good men, and no door of access can be opened till
purity is restored. Any other way would seem encouragement to transgression.  Christ's way is the
very reverse of this. It is the grand discovery of the
gospel, the spiritual law of attraction. His way was
to come from an infinite height into this world, that
he might be near sinners, able to touch them, and
ready to be touched. It was to take their nature
upon him in the likeness of sinful flesh, that they
might feel him closer still, and that "He might not
be ashamed to call them brethren."  It was "' to become sin for them, though he knew no sin;" that he
might bear it, first by pity, then by sacrifice, and at
last by pardon. Thlis is the great and godlike plan
the very heart of the reason why " he lifted up his
feet to the long desolation," and touched the soil of
our sin-stricken earth. And now he is only carrying out his grand plan in one of its applications when
he draws this sinner near him, and suffers her to
clasp his feet that she may feel she is in contact with
God's infinite and saving mercy. It is a ray of the
glorious Sun of Righteousness, whose going forth is
from the end of the heaven, and his circuit unto the
ends of it which has glanced into this woman's soul
and strayed across the Pharisee's threshold, that he
may show men how he came to win back their hearts,
and that he may prove to them, while he hates sin,




CHRIST IN SIMON'S HOUSE.         49
that he loves the sinner with yearning, quenchless
compassion.  If the sinner's heart is ever gained,
thus it must be, when lie who in his character is "' undefiled and separate from sinners," comes so close to
them in sympathy, and stretches out a hand to them,
stainless in purity, but filled with pardon.  The
Pharisee when he sees it sets it down as folly. But
wisdom is justified of her children, and God " hath
abounded toward us in all wisdom and prudence,"
because he hath abounded c" in the riches of his longsuffering."
II. As it regarded the woman, the Pharisee thought
that as a sinner she was to be despised. He saw only
what was repulsive in her; and had he confined his
view to the sill, his feeling had right with it. But lie
included the sinner. It was a look of pride, without
any pity; and pride, above all, spiritual pride, without
pity, is as cold and blind as the polar ice. Such
pride could not see a human soul with infinite destinies, though degraded, a precious gem incrusted with
miry clay, yet capable of reflecting the brightest rays
of the divine glory. For there that soul was great in
its origin and nature, and ready to be saved in the
Lord with an everlasting salvation. He saw it, who
knew the soul's capacity, for he made it, and did not
over-estimate its value when he gave his life for it.
He had said, "What shall it profit a man though he
gain the whole world and lose his own soul? " And
measuring in his compassion the infinite loss, he paid
for it the infinite price.
And surely we ought to feel that in every fellow
man, however degraded, there is a kindred and im4




50          CHRIST IN SITION'S HOUSE.
mortal nature which can never be cut off in this
world from the possibility of the highest rise. To be
suffered to remain on God's footstool is to be within
reach of the steps to his throne. The man is a
sharer, not only of our original nature, but of that
which the Son of God took upon himself. Christ entered this house of our humanity that every one
might feel emboldened, as this woman did, to come
near and touch him with contrition and faith, and
draw from  him  help and hope.  Should not the
thought of this community of nature melt our hearts
when we look upon poor outcast humanity? And
shall we ever think ourselves more pure than the
Son of God, and seek to shake ourselves free from its
touch?
As regarded the woman, he did not see that a new
life had entered. A man who is so blind as not to
perceive the deep capacity of the old nature will not
discover the dawning tokens of the new. Was it
nothing to find her pressing close to Christ, clinging
to his feet, bathing them with weeping?  The outward signs were before him, if he had known how to
read them, of the greatest change that can befall a
human soul. These sobs and tears, and this irrepressible emotion, are the cries of the new creature
in Christ Jesus, which must find its way to him who
is its life and joy. Penitence was there, too deep for
words, the broken and contrite heart which God will
not despise, a loathing of sin which this Pharisee
cannot understand, and a glowing love that made his
frown forgotten in the irresistible attraction to a Saviour's feet. What worlds of emotion may be pass



CHRIST IN SIMON'S HOUSE.        51
ing within, where man cannot look, a bitterness of
grief which the heart alone knows, and a joy with
which no stranger can intermeddle! He knows it
who is its Author and its end. He sees the birth of
an immortal spirit, the glow and grandeur of a second creation, better than the first, and welcomed with
gladder songs. But all this while the poor Pharisee,
in presence of its tokens, can understand it no more
than he can hear the angels who rejoice over it, and
he complacently charges with ignorance him who
searches the heart, and proudly condemns her who
is being acquitted by the Judge of all!
III. THE PHARISEE'S MISTAKE AS IT REGARDED
HIMSELF.-There is no error that ends in its own
first circle; and every serious mistake in the moral
world has this in it, that it recoils at last on the man
who is guilty of it. " Who art thou that judgest another, for wherein thou judgest another thou condemnest thyself? "
The Pharisee showed that he did not know his
own heart. Had he been better acquainted with it
he would have found sufficient there for dissatisfaction. If not committing the sins which he condemned, he might have known that he had the seeds
of them in his nature. If he was keeping them down
by inward struggle, this should have made him
lenient, and, if cherishing the love of them, he was a
publican wearing a cloak. Every unrenewed heart
has the fire of corruption smouldering, though it
may not show the flame. The grace of God alone
can extinguish the fire of any one sin, and even then




52           CHRIST IN SIMON'S HOUSE.
the man is a brand plucked from the burning, ready
to be rekindled, and therefore bound to humility.
It deserves to be remarked that the man who is
saved from sin by love is softened by the love which
saves him; but the man who is kept from sin only by
pride is made more hard. He may be as near the
sin in his real heart as ever, but he maintains a false
outward character, and builds an unsafe barrier in
his nature against open sin by being very severe
upon sinners. This is the reason why a mere external reformation brings in vanity and pride, and all
uncharitableness, sins which, if not so disreputable
in the sight of men, are as hateful in the view of
God.
As regarded himself, he did not see that in condemning this woman, he was rejecting the salvation
of Christ. If he could have established his point that
it was unworthy of the Saviour to hold intercourse
with sinners, what hope would there have been for
him? Shutting the door of his house upon this woman who sought Christ, he would have shut the door
upon Christ himself. Publican and Pharisee, open
transgressor and moral formalist, can only enter
heaven by the same gate of free, unconditional
mercy.  Nay, had the Pharisee seen it, he was
farther from the kingdom of God than she with all
her sins about her; and it was not so wonderful that
Christ should permit this poor woman to touch his
feet, as that he should sit down as a guest at the
Pharisee's table. This, too, was in the way of his
work, to bring in a contrite sinner with him, and
touch, if it might be, the hard, self-righteous heart.




CHRIST IN SIMON'S HOUSE.         53
If the Pharisee had known himself, and who it was
that spoke to him, he would have taken his place
beside her he despised. "Lord, I am not worthy
that thou shouldest come under my roof.@'  He
would have rejoiced in her reception as the ground
of hope for himself, and as a proof that Christ is
"able to save to the uttermost all them that come
unto God through him."  Let us trust that he
learned the lesson.
Having looked at the mistake of the Pharisee in
some of its aspects, it would not be well to close
without adverting to some of the truths which we
may learn from it.
Those who profess religion should be careful how
they give a false view of it by uncharitable judgments and by assumptions of superiority. It matters little whether this is done under the guise of
zeal for orthodoxy of doctrine or morality of life. If
it want the spirit of meekness and sympathy, it has
not the spirit of the gospel. The greatest proof of
the Divine is that it is deeply and tenderly human.
God became man to show this.  Those who have
struggled nearest to the centre of truth and life in
Christ are those who will have most sympathy with
men striving amid waves of doubt to plant their- feet
on some spiritual certainty; and they who have risen
highest in purity of heart will be most ready to
stretch out their hand to help a sinner to retrieval.
The reason is plain. It is these men who are acquainted with the misery of the conflict and the
blessedness of the calm. We know of no greater
enemies to Christianity than a hard orthodoxy desti



b4           CHRIST IN SIMON'S HOUSE.
tute of the insight of charity, and a cold, self-satisfied morality which seeks its own comfort in being
saved, and gathers up its skirts from the touch of
what it calls the sinful world. What that world
wants at all times, and ill our time more than ever,
is sympathy; and it would be a good thing for Christian men to look less to the Pharisee as their model,
and more to Christ.
On the other side, we must remind those who profess to be seeking religion, that they are bound to
form their judgment of it from its Author. Many
say they have been repelled from Christianity by the
coldness and inconsistency of its professors, and they
reckon this a sufficient excuse. It might be so if we
had to plead our case at last before these professors.
But the answer must be given in before Him with
whom we have to do. Nothing will avail then, unless we can make it clear that we honestly and earnestly appealed to himself, and were repelled. It
will be very hard to show this. Honest, earnest men
should feel bound to take their estimate of Christianity only from Christ. It is surely a case of sufficient
importance to justify this, when the interests of the
soul and eternity are involved in the issue. To indulge in childish recriminations when these are at
stake is not reasoning, but trifling. We are all on
our way to the Judge, and he will settle the question
of mutual blame; but the question of sin must be
settled between him and each one of us alone. If
men have felt the pressure of guilt and want, and
their need of a Saviour, they will find their way to
him through all the cold looks of professed disciples




CHRIST IN SIMON'S HOUSE.         55
and proud formalists. That there are Pharisees who
misrepresent him is only a stronger reason why we
should take his name and bear it in truth.
If there are some who have advanced farther in
search, who are deeply depressed by a sense of sin,
and ready to think they will be loathed by all who
know them as they are, there is comfort in this view
of Christ. He knows what is in mail, and has a view
of sin deeper than any that can darken a stricken conscience. He felt sin's overpowering weight when he
bore it for us, and had a mysterious agony then, the
cries out of which make us feel that we understand
but a little part of its evil. Yet how compassionate
he is to the sinner, whose worst of sin he knows. It
is not pity merely that comes from him, but sympathy; and how wide the difference between these
the struggling heart understands. " Let the humble
see this and be glad, and let their heart live who seek
God." Our comfort does not begin in forgetting our
sins, but in remembering them, and in bringing them
all under the view of his mercy, which is as wide and
wakeful as his omniscience. " 0 God! thou knowest
my foolishness, and my sins are not hid from thee."
Our confidence is sustained by thinking that as his
knowledge of us is far larger than our own, as he is
greater than our hearts, and sees secret sins we overlook, and past sins we forget, so his mercy is exalted
above our conception, "as high as heaven is above
the earth," and ready to put our sins away " as far as
east is from the west." Let such only make full
proof of the Christ who forgave this woman. Let
them press close to him as he comes near to them, a




56           CHRIST IN SIMON'S HOUSE.
great present spiritual Saviour, looking up in his face,
clasping his feet with simple, humble faith, as he will
teach the heart to do if it inquires of him; and then
will come that word, " Thy sills are forgiven thee,"
and in due time the other which makes all sure,
"Thy faith hath saved thee, go in peace."
Besides all these classes, there is still another to
which we would refer in closing. There are some
who have cast themselves with a feeling of trustfulness upon the mercy of God in Christ; but they have
a hard struggle to maintain, with memories of sin
which rise up out of the past, and with present evil
imaginings,which are the product of a bygone state of
life and heart. This is one of the sorest trials of a
renewed life, that it is built over dark dungeons,
where dead things may be buried but not forgotten,
and where, through the open grating, rank vapors
still ascend. They are compelled to bear this burden
all alone, and sometimes they feel it too heavy.
Now, consider this, that it is in wisdom and kindness God has closed the depth of the human heart
against every eye but his own. We can sympathize
with this part of the Pharisee's feeling that men
would shrink  from  one another if they saw each
other's sins and sinful thoughts laid bare.  When we
think of our nearest friends looking in upon our soul,
we recoil with shame. Could the sacredness of our
friendship stand such openness? It can scarcely be
believed. In this world we are all alike staifned with
sin, and this very  sin makes us intolerant.  It
shrinks from being seen, and it is shocked at its own
reflection in another's heart. It could not even bear




CHRIST IN SIMON'S HOUSE.         57
its own consciousness, if it were not blinded by self.
love and habitude.  God has, therefore, concealed
our hearts from each other, and left them open only
to himself, or, if in any way to others, only so far to
beings of a better world, who can look in upon our
paths with larger and more loving eyes. And yet,
merciful as the arrangement is, many feel it to be a
terrible burden to bear all alone; to walk side by
side with friends, and to be solitary with such memories and thoughts; to go down into deep, bitter graves
of the past with no fellow-man to hold them by the
hand. It is this that has led some, in their agony, to
seek disclosure in any way as a relief, and that has
formed a system which invites it. It is a great testimony to the power of conscience in man, and to the
difficulty of bearing the awakened conviction of sin,
in utter, echoless solitude.  It is, indeed, a poor
resource to make a confessor out of an accomplice;
for the sinful heart into which we pour our acknowledgment of sin has its own memories of guilt, and these
make it hard and misjudging to the transgressor,
even where it is tolerant to the transgression.  Christ
himself, the pure and spotless, asked no confession of
secret guilt when he forgave. There were things not
to be spoken to his human ear, but only to be submitted to his divine eye; dark struggles and sins that
must be dumb, that come before him like this woman
with tears and groans, and which only know and feel
in their muteness that he knows them  all. The
remedy for the solitary, sinful heart is here. It is to
approach so close to Christ, the divine and human, as
to feel that he is acquainted with the whole, and can




58           CHRIST IN SIMON S HOUSE.
sustain under the consciousness of it; to make him a
constant partner in all our thoughlts, the darkest and
the deepest. It is the highest purity which is capable
of the tenderest sympathy, and they are both in
Christ. He will not despise the sin and misery of
those who appeal to him, and he has the power to
help them in the conflict. It is thus that God saves
the sacredness of our personality, - suffers no human
foot to profane the dread solitude reserved for himself, - and yet gives us the presence of a personal
human friend in all our lonely struggles.
If we seek that presence, and take that aid, we may
reach a state where our souls may lie more unreservedly open to one another than here they can do. It
must be part of the happiness of a future world to
look deeper into mutual hearts, and to know that we
have nothing to pain us in looking, and nothing to
shrink from in disclosing.  Souls sometimes yearn
through their prison bars so to meet, and then it may
be safely granted. It may be part of that happiness
also to cast the eye down into our former selves and
read all the past, while we feel that we have no sympathy with the evil which once dwelt there. It will
be regarded as an utterly extinct and alien thing,
leaving nothing in the memory but endless gratitude
to him who has freed us from it, and a more intense
joy in the life which he has bestowed. The course to
this is now to submit the whole, with the unreserved
transparency of a contrite heart, and with simple faith,
to his eye who sees all to pardon it, and to lead from
pardon on to purity and perfect peace.




IV.
Xod's   ord suited to 4an'  $ e  of fronder.
" Open thou mine eyes that I may behold zvondrous things out
of thy lawV."- PSAL. CXIX. I8.
HEE word of God is the great subject of this
psalm, and  it is surprising how much this
man found in it, when we think how small a
part of that word was then in his hands. We can
only account for it when we light upon a prayer like
this, which shows such a desire to use it to full advantage, and an earnest request that God would help
him in doing so. The great end of the word of God
then, as now, was practical; but there is a secondary
use here referred to, which is worthy of consideration, - its powerof meeting man's faculty of wonder.
God knows our frame, for he made it, and he must
have adapted the Bible to all its parts. If we can
show this, it may be another token that the book
comes from him who made man; and it may be an
inducement to some who neglect it to study it with
more interest, and perhaps lead them to find in it,
through the blessing of God, that which is its great
subject, eternal life, his free gift.




60             GOD' S WORD SUITED TO
I. We shall make some remarks on the sense of
wonder in man, and on what generally excites it.
That God has bestowed upon man such a faculty
we all know. It is one of the first and most constant
emotions in our nature.  We can see this in children,
and in all whose feelings are still fresh and natural.
It is the parent of the desire to know, and all through
life it is urging men to inquire. There are some
who pretend to have risen above wonder, and who
put on a stolid apathy whatever may appeal to them
in the way of the strange or the grand. It is a very
poor affectation, which speaks as little for the clearness of the head as for the warmth of the heart, and
which generally takes its revenge in this, that the
defrauded feeling seeks nourishment either in trifles
or in morbid and unnatural shapes. It is a great
thing not to lose the sense of wonder, and yet to
keep it for right objects. There is a true and a
false cultivation of it, as of everything else, and the
true way is to turn it to those things that are
simple and noble, where wonder may rise into admiration and affection for the pure and the good. The
greatest minds and the truest hearts preserve this
feeling fresh to the very last, and go through life finding new cause for intelligent wonder day after day.
The feeling may be excited by different objects.
One of the first causes of wonder is the new or unexpected. Man's mind cannot long remain in a state
of monotony without something like pain, or, if it
does, it is a sign of the low level to which the mind
has sunk. It has a craving after the fresh, and God
has provided for this in the form of his world. He




MAN'S SENSE OF WONDER.            61
has made the works of nature pass before us with a
perpetually diversified face. He has created summer
and winter, and ordered the  sun, so that he has
never probably set with the same look since man first
saw him. Those works of nature are constantly turning up new subjects of thought and study, and will
do during the world's existence; while, at the same
time, the world itself is weaving an ever-shifting and
many-colored web of history. In all this there is a
stimulus to man to lead him to look and think.
A second source of wonder is to be found in things
beautiful and grand. This is higher than the mere
love of the new, and leads on from wonder to admiration. They are the smaller number who rise to this,
and yet there is here a very real and true part of our
nature. There is a chord in the human heart to
which the beautiful and sublime respond, whether
these appear in the material or spiritual world.  If
we could only take men away for a little out of the
dull dead round, and from the corroding and often
debasing things that draw them down in their common life, there are objects such as these appealing to
them daily and hourly, and asking them if they have
not a soul. Rich sunsets and moonlit skies are there,
requiring only eyes to see them, and acts of self-devotion and heroism are being performed, and lives of
patient suffering led, under our sight, which are as
capable of thrilling as anything recorded in history.
There is still a third source of wonder in the mysterious which surrounds man. To feel this, at least
to feel it in its truth and depth, calls out a still superior part of our nature, and lifts us above admira



62            GOD'S WORDS SUITED TO
tion, to awe. It comes from the sense of what we
can touch with our thought but cannot comprehend.
A reflective mind can take but a very few steps in
thinking till it comes upon this. It is not so much
that there are things unknown around us, as that
there are things unknowable, that there is an infinite
and a mystery in the universe which we cannot now
penetrate, and which may forever stretch beyond us.
The tokens of man's highest nature lie not in his
being able to comprehend, but in his ability to feel
that there are things which he cannot comprehend,
and which he yet feels to be true and real, before
which he is compelled to fall down in reverent awe.
It is here, above all, that man comes into contact
with religion, with a God, with an eternity, and he
in whom there is little sense of wonder, or in whom
it has been blunted and degraded, will have a proportionately feeble impression of these grand subjects
which the soul can feel to be real, but can never fully
grasp. 
These seem to comprise the chief, if not the entire
sources of wonder in man - things new, things beau.
tiful and grand, things mysterious and infinite, appealing to the mind, to the soul, to the spirit with
which God has endowed his human creature.
II. We shall now proceed to show that God has
made provision for this sense of wonder in his revealed word. We would expect it to be so if the
faculty is an original part of human nature, and if
there is food for it in God's world. The Bible is
from the same Author, it must have the same great




MAN'S SENSE OF WONDER.            63
features of wisdom and kindness, and it must be
fitted to touch, though in a different proportion, the
full breadth of man's nature. Unless it did so, we
would have difficulty in believing it to be divine.
The Bible exhorts us to consider "the wondrous
works of God," and to talk of them all.  It represents this as a fitting exercise not only in this world,
but in another. As knowledge rises, wonder does
not become less, and those who stand on " the sea of
glass mingled with fire," sing,' Great and marvellous
are thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and true
are thy ways, thou King of saints" (Rev. xv. 3).
The Bible addresses our sense of wonder by constantly presenting the new and unexpected to us.
There are some who have a morbid fear of anything
novel, and who will have it that the pure gospel lies
very much in going a certain round of texts and doctrines in a certain fixed way, a traditionalism which
is always leading to another and more dangerous extreme. But this way of looking at the Bible is in accordance neither with its form nor its spirit. As to
its form, it has gone on from first to last to add something new and fresh to all it had said before, and if its
circle has now closed, it is because it is already wide
enough never to become old. There is in it sufficient
spiritual truth for man to study and apply with neverfailing interest as long as he remains in his present
sphere. God closes the Bible as he closes creation in
our world, that our field of work may be definite.
In its now completed form it is so constructed as
always to offer the incentive of the new. It spreads
over such a breadth of time, and such varied phases




64            GOD'S WORD SUITED TO
of life and thought, and it has such a freedom and
naturalness, like that of creation, that we feel we can
never exhaust it. The very difficulties connected
with its form, which have led to such disputes of
criticism and interpretation, have been, we believe,
permitted by God that a perpetual interest may be
preserved in his word, and that new discoveries may
turn up with every fresh research. He chooses that
there should be difficulty and discussion rather than
stagnation.
And then as to the spirit of the Bible, we know
how it exhorts us to search, to meditate, to " dig for
wisdom, as for hid treasures," which must mean that
we should bring out the fresh and unexplored. We
know how it compares truth to a running well, which
must be because it should be in movement, visiting
and watering new pastures. It is, indeed, certain
that the principles of the doctrine of Christ (ileb. vi.
1) always remain the same, and yet the apostle exhorts us that we are "to leave them and go on
unto perfection," that is, to leave them and yet never
to abandon them, as a tree leaves its root and yet
never quits hold of it, as it has the vital sap from that
constant source, and yet spreads away into branches
and blossoms and fruit, without which it could never
be a tree, and might as well lie dead. If we think
that we honor the Bible by reiterating certain formulas caught from it without taking in the manifold
illustrations of God's word, and the manifold applications in human life, we shall find that the Divine life
deserts these formulas, and that a class of men spring
up who deny in them the truth they have. It would




MAN'S SENSE OF WONDER.           6b
be well for us then to recognize the craving for what
is fresh which exists in the human mind, and to meet
it honestly and healthfully, not by going outside
God's word, or neglecting the essential truths that
are in it, but by taking them and proving that they
are filled with an endless variety of interest, when we
ask God to give us the ear of the learned, and to
waken us morning by morning and spread over them
the dew of youth. The good house-holder seeks' to bring out of his treasure things new and old."
While the Bible makes provision for constantly new
views of truth, it sets before us also things beautiful
and grand, without which the new would be a matter
of idle curiosity. Even in regard to the natural
world, much of the admiration with which we regard
its features has been learned from the word of God.
The men of the ancient classical age, so far as we can
judge from their writings, had the love of natural
scenery imperfectly developed. We find only glimpses
of it shut up amid the limitations of human passion
and action. With all their pantheism and worship of
material powers, the comparative absence of what
may be called a feeling of the spirit of nature itself is
very remarkable, and would seem to show that creation cannot be appreciated until we have, shining
through it, the light of a personal God. We find the
love of nature everywhere in the Bible, in the Psalms
and Prophets, in the framework of the Gospels, and
even in the views of a future existence; and, in
the modern world, it is only amnong Christian nations
that it has come out into clear, full form, that it has
been set free from human limitation, and has had




66             GOD'S WORD SUITED TO
cast upon it some reflection of the infinite and divine.
II1 setting free the human soul, the Bible has also
liberated nature. Our literature owes far more to
this source than it confesses or sees, and if the common mind has awakened to the perception of the
tender, the beautiful and sublime in the dew-drops
and flowers, in the strength of the everlasting hills,
in the calm majesty of the moon walking in brightness, - to the sense of the infinite in the great and
wide sea and the depths of the open heaven, it owes
much of the feeling, and even of the expression, to
the great book which has unclosed the spirit's eye.
But far beyond these are the forms of the moral and
spiritual with which the Bible is so filled, and which
it is its supreme aim to present to men, — what it
terms emphatically "' the beauty of the Lord "- the
pure and merciful, the heroic and self-devoted, singly
and in groups, flaming up into great deeds, or flowing on in the calm  current of a life; and among
these, those transformations the most wonderful, from
the impure to the holy, from  the meanest human
mould to the loftiest shapes of magnanimity and
self-devotion. Does any book, or do all other books
together present such scenes of moral grandeur
and tenderness with such everlasting freshness in
them?
And then, if we come to the third source of wonder, that which raises it to awe, it is the peculiar
province of the Bible to deal with this. Its aim is, all
through, to lead us to such subjects as the soul, and
God and the eternal world, and sin, the great mystery
and root of mysteries, and' the marvellous remedy




MAN'S SENSE OF WONDER.           67
which has been provided for it in the descent of the
divine nature to the human, that great mystery of
godliness, " God manifest in  the  flesh."  These
are the subjects of never-dying interest round which
the thoughts of man can never cease to revolve, because they touch his deepest nature and affect his
everlasting destiny. If the "' powers of the world to
come" have anything in them  to excite wonder
and awe, the Bible, beyond all other books, holds
them in its hand.
It is impossible, in thinking of these things, to forget that there is one centre in which all these elements of wonder in the Bible are found united
Jesus Christ. He is the keystone of its arch, and
it falls or stands with him. He is more; he is the
firmament that holds all its stars and its brightness.
But for him there would have been no Bible, and if
we read it without him it has no coherence and no
guiding thought. All the struggling aspirations of
the ancient church converge to him as rays to a focus, and all the great forces of truth and goodness
now in the world emerge from him, whether they
know it or not. One of the prophets who spoke of
him declares his name to be " Wonderful," " Counselor," and an apostle assures us that " in Him are
hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge."
If the claims of Jesus Christ are to be maintained, as
they must and will be, it is not by lessening but by
enlarging them. We must hold that there is nothing good or true or pure among men but in some
way it has its source in him, for " He is the true
light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the




68           GOD'S WORD SUITED TO
world." The outer circle of human history and the
inner circle of the Divine must be read in and regulated by his coming. Every breathing after the Divine life, wherever it appeared, went to him who is
"the desire of all nations," and could only come
from his own Spirit. When we take this view what
a field of ever-growing thought is opened up in
Christ! All the aspirations of the human soul, as
far as they are natural and just, will be found to be
met in him  and satisfied. When the Athenians,
whose delight it was to hear " some new thing,"
came to Paul, he preached unto them "Jesus and
the resurrection;" and those whose craving is after
the fiesh may still find room for its gratification in
this same study. There is scope enough for it in the
preparation for his first coming, the depth of his
words, the far-reaching result of his life and death,
the application of his principles to man and to human
history till the world's close, and in the opening vistas into the eternal beyond. The greatest mind can
do but little to such a subject, the course of Christian literature seems only beginning to deal with
some parts of it, and we feel that if the bearing of
the whole word of God upon Christ, and of Christ
upon man, were to be fully treated, the world could
not contain the books that should be written.
If we think again of the beautiful, the grand, the
mysterious, to speak of them in one, where shall we
find such views of them as in the person and life and
death of Christ? An atheist who denies his divinity,
or the divine in any sense, need not be ashamed to
own the exceeding beauty of his life, and may say,




MAN'S SENSE OF WONDER.           69
with another meaning than ours, " Thou art fairer
than the children of men;" "The ideal is so beautiful
that, alas! I cannot think it possible;" and we know
the saying of an unbeliever concerning his death,
"Jesus Christ died like a god."  We who find in
him the highest ideal joined to the most perfect reality (for there must be some such union, else the aspirations of man and his struggles will be at perpetual
war), we, who hold this, find in him an object of
ever-increasing admiration and reverence. The hope
of a sinful suffering world, if there be hope at all,
must be found when the Divine is seen stooping
through him to the human, the infinitely holy to the
low and the lost, and when the love of the Father
flows out to his ungrateful and rebellious children in
the life and death of the Eternal Son. There is
room in this, not for the wonder of earth only, but of
heaven. New studies and new songs spring up from
it there, and all his holy and intelligent creatures
find a fresh light cast upon his relations to them, in
coming ages and in distant worlds.
III. We come now, in the last place, to the means
we are to use in order to have God's Word thus unfolded. The prayer of the Psalmhist may be our
guide -" Open thou mine eyes that I may see."
Now, here it may be remarked that he asks for no
new revelation. It was in God's hand to give this,
and he did it in his own time to those ancient believers; but to all of them  at every time there was
enough given for the purposes of life. The request
is not for more, but that he may employ well that




70             GOD'S WORD SUITED TO
which he possesses. Still better does such a form of
request suit us, to whom life and immortality have
been brought to light in Christ. If we do not find
sufficient to exercise our thoughts with constant
freshness, and our soul with the grandest and most
attractive subjects, it is because we want the eyesight.
It is of great importance for us to be persuaded of
this truth, that there are many things in the Bible
still to be found out, and that if we come in the
right spirit, we may be made discoverers of some of
them. These things disclose themselves, not so
much to learning, though that is not to be despised,
as to spiritual insight, to a humble, loving heart.
And this at least is certain, that we shall always find
things that are new to ourselves. However frequently we traverse the field, we shall perceive some fresh
golden vein turning up its glance to us, and we shall
wonder how our eyes were formerly holden that we
did not see it. It was all there waiting for us, and
we feel that more is waiting, if we had the vision.
There is a great Spirit in it that holds deeper converse with our souls. This, to a true student, may
be a token not merely of divinity in the substance of
the Bible, but of an inspiring breath, define it as we
will, which has presided over the form.
This further may be observed, that the Psalmist
asks for no new faculty. The eyes are there already,
and they need only to be opened. It is not the bestowal of a new and supernatural power which enables
a man to read the Bible to profit, but the quickening
of a power he already possesses. In one view it is
supernatural, as God is the author of the illumination




MAN'S SENSE OF WONDER.           71
by a direct act of his Spirit; in another it is natural,
as it operates through the faculties existing in man's
soul.  God gives "the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of Christ, that the eyes of man's
understanding may be enlightened " (Eph. i. 17).
It is important to remernember this also, for here
lies our responsibility, that we have the faculty, and
here also is the point at which we must begin action
with the help of God. A man will never grow into
the knowledge of God's word by idly waiting for some
new gift of discernment, but by diligently using that
which God has already bestowed upon him, and using
at the same time all other helps that lie within his
reach. There are men and books that seem, beyond
others, to have the power of aiding insight. All of
us have felt it in the contact of some affinity of nature which makes them our best helpers; the kindred
clay upon the eyes by which the great Enlightener
removes our blindness (John ix. 6). Let us seek for
such, and if we find them let us employ them without
leaning on them. Above all, let us give our whole
mind in patient, loving study to the book itself; and
where we fail, at any essential part, God will either
send his evangelist Philip to our aid (Acts viii.) or
instruct us himself. But it is only to patient, loving
study that help is given. God could have poured all
knowledge into us by easy inspiration; but it is by
earnest search alone that it can become the treasure
of the soul.
But if so, it may still be asked, what is the meaning of this prayer? and why does the Bible itself insist so often on the indispensable need of the Spirit




72            GOD'S WORD SUITED TO
of God to teach? Now, there is a side here as true
as the other, and in no way inconsistent with it. If
prayer without effort would be presumptuous, effort
without prayer would be vain. The great reason why
men do not feel the power and beauty of the Bible is
a spiritual one. They do not realize the grand evil
which the Bible has come to cure, and they have not
a heart to the blessings which it offers to bestow.
The film of a fallen nature, self-maintained, is upon
their eyes while they read. " The eyes of their understanding are darkened, being alienated from the
life of God " (Eph. iv. 18). All the natural powers
will never find the true key to the Bible, till the
thoughlts of sin and redemption enter the heart, and
are put in the centre of the book.  It is the part of
the Father of lights, by the teaching of his Spirit, to
give this to the soul; and he will, if it humbly approaches him with this request. Thus we shall study,
as one might a book with the author at hand, to set
forth the height of its argument, or as one might
look on a noble composition, when the artist breathes
into us a portion of his soul, to let us feel the centre
of its harmonies of form and color. Those who have
given to the Bible thought and prayer will own that
these are not empty promises.
We may say in the close, that there are two classes
of persons who may learn something from this prayer
of the Psalmist. There are those first —and many
of them good Christians - who do not take so large
a view of the Bible as they ought. They confine
themselves to some doctrines and precepts, central
and needful, and they read the Bible to find these in




MAN'S SENSE OF WONDER.           73
constantly recurring forms, just as some men look on
flowers chiefly as verifying some botanical theory.
This reduces the book of God to a set of doctrinal
moulds, and often makes what should be the most
interesting of all books, one to which they have to
urge themselves by a constraint of conscience, when
they might be drawn to it by the attraction of constant freshness and growing beauty. For our own
sakes, and for the sake of presenting it in its true light
to the world, let us seek to study it in all the vividness
of life and variety of color, with which God has set it
forth. The special want of our time is to make the
Bible more human without making it less divine.
Christ and the great truths of his gospel must always
stand in the centre and pervade the whole; but we
should seek to make them do it, as the Bible itself
does, touching man's nature and his history in every
varied way. There is no Christian, however humble,
who may not grow into the habit of such a study of
the Bible, and thus make it to himself not only a divinely true, but an ever new book; life in its heart,
manifold light in all its modes of presentation, till
he can enter into the spirit of this same speaker, "0,
how love I thy law; it is my study all the day."
There is, however, still another class who may have
given much thought to the Bible, and obtained from
it fresh views of man and nature and God, but they
have not yet lifted up the heart with this petition,
" Open thou mine eyes that I may behold wondrous
things out of thy law." They have not felt their need
of any such enlightenment, because they have not felt
the presence of sin, nor realized the darkness that it




74            GOD'S WORD SUITED TO
pours over the spiritual vision. It is much to be
feared that this class is a large, and in our days an
increasing one. The progress of a kind of moral education, and the decent restraints of society, have had
such a general outward effect upon character that
numbers take rest in this, and go no further.  They
very willingly use the Bible as a book of culture, but
they do not think of its one great end, - the deliverance of human nature from the terrible penalty and
taint of sin. Yet, till this is felt and sought, the book
for its main purpose lies all unread. Any interest
found in it without this has narrow limits. It cannot go very deep nor last very long. It is when sin
and redemption are seen to be its burden, that it receives an interest and grandeur as deep as the nature
of the soul, and as large as eternity. If there are
some who feel or who fear that there is a spiritual
disease within them yet little thought of, and a depth
in the Bible not yet dealt with, let them ask of its
author the divine eye-salve with which he anoints
the eyes. Its first revelations may be unwelcome,
and men may be startled to see how fancied wealth
and fulness sink into spiritual poverty and misery.
But continued vision will open up divine remedies,
gold tried in the fire, and white raiment, the value of
which will only be enhanced by growing insight.
And all the discoveries of the Bible will have this-to
commend them, that they speak to us in the language
of personal friendship and love. They come laden
with messages from the heart of the great God, and
as his truths are new, his compassions which are in
them  "are new  also every morning."  When he




MAN'S SENSE OF WONDER.          75
opens our eyes to see his greatness it is like the chariots and horses of fire ranged on the surrounding
mountains for our safety, and when he reveals the
tenderness of his character, it is, like the well revealed to Hagar in the desert, ready for our consolation. Of all the new things which his word has
promised, let us desire first that new heart which in.
sures the new eyesight. It is brought nearer to us
than ever before, by him who has come as the life of
men that he may be their light (John i. 4). " And
Jesus stood and commanded him to be brought unto
him, and when he was come near, he asked him, saying, What wilt thou that I shall do unto thee? And
he said, Lord, that I may receive my sight. And
Jesus said unto him, Receive thy sight; thy faith
hath saved thee. And immediately he received his
sight and followed him, glorifying God " (Luke xviii.
40-43).




V.
jtnreae o    unoiwdgey  J[nreast o  $orrrow
" He that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow." - Ecc. i. I8.
IIS is a very strange declaration to come from
the man who had made wisdom his choice, as
the supreme thing in life, and who had been
approved of by God for the decision. He had prosecr'ted the study of knowledge with all ardor, and was
rex rded with success. He knew every plant, from
the dedar of Lebanon to the hyssop which springeth
from the wall, and the Book of Proverbs proves his
acquaintance with the heart of man. How are we to
explain this? The explanation lies in this, that in
the present utterance God is left out of view. The
Book of Ecclesiastes is a dialogue between two men,
or two states of mind, in which, at one time, scepticism prevails, and, at another time, faith; and here we
have a view of knowledge without faith. As Solomon
had attempted to find happiness without God, he had
tried to find wisdom also without Him. None ever
tried it under better auspices. He had the highest




INCREASE OF KNOWLEDGE, INCREASE OF SORROW. 77
powers of mind, and the largest resources at command.
But he failed in this too, that he might be brought
back to the true wisdom from which he had wandered:-" Fear God, and keep His commandments:
for this is the whole duty of man." The declaration
of the text, then, may be considered as the expression
of a soul that seeks satisfaction in mere earthly knowledge. We shall attempt to illustrate it by the various
fields of human inquiry.
I. Mere earthly knowledge is unsatisfactory in its
nature.- Take as an illustration of this the field of
creation. There is around man in space a world with
facts and laws which he feels impelled to study. He
must arrange and generalize the facts, and trace the
laws from lower up to higher. It is work made for
him, and there is happiness in the prosecution of it.
But to be told, or to be made to feel, that there is
nothing but facts and laws, would not this be sorrowful? And the higher he rises in research, and finds
that there is nothing more, would it not be increase of
sorrow? The knowledge of facts and laws can employ man's reason, but it cannot ultimately satisfy it,
and still less can it soothe his soul, or meet the longings of his spirit. This deeper part of his nature
cries out for nourishment, and it will not take a stone
for bread. How sad would this be, to be enlarging
our vision of endless mechanism, but never to come in
sight of a great intelligent Maker?- to perceive wondrous life in worlds around and beneath, but no life
above nor before: life only tending to death, and
never reflecting a life that lives for ever? - rain-drops




78          INCREASE OF KNOWLEDGE,
dripping in a vault, and gravitating eternally to darkness, but no dew-drops returning the look of God, and
drawn up as by sunbeams to his presence? How solitary would it be to ascend amid all the spheres, and
learn only names of forces, and hear the din of iron
wheels, and never feel a heart beating through them,
nor listen to a voice like that of the angels singing
together as the sons of God, and shouting for joy
from world to world? Law everywhere cannot permanently satisfy man without a Lawgiver; order, without a primordial reason; forms of skill and beauty,
without a great Thinker, from whom they are emanations, and whom our own thoughts can touch, as they
touch kindred souls, till we can say, " How precious
are Thy thoughts unto me, 0 God! "
II. Mere earthly knowledge is painful in its contents. —For an illustration of this, we may go from
creation to history, from space to time. Here we have
to contemplate man in his wonderful works and ways,
the crown of this lower world, who studies its laws
and softens its rudeness, and adds new touches to its
face of beauty. Let us think what the world would be
without man to comprehend it by science, and represent it in art, and cast over it the glow of imagination,
making it a better, brighter world than the sun shines
on; and yet not so, for that beauty must in some
way be there if man discovers it. God has hidden it,
and given to man the faculty; that he may have the
pleasure of finding it out.
And yet how melancholy is the history of man when
written down! Such oppression and wrong, and suf



INCREASE OF SORROW.              79
fering and crime, and ever-engulfing death! How
sad to disentomb Egyptian and Assyrian monuments,
and gaze on endless trains of miserable captives and
insulting conquerors, and to see events writing similar
subjects for history even now! Is this all? If the
thought of God comes, there is some security for
progress, some hope even of retrieval. With all the
mystery there is not despair. The past is not utterly
past. The ruins of nations become like the strata
that are platforms for new worlds, and their ruins
have had a life in them which is still capable of reconstruction. Take away our hope in God, and history
becomes a sea of tumbling billows, dark and shoreless;
nations rising only to fall; great souls shooting across
the horizon like dying meteors; and all the spiritual
longings of the past written down but to tell us of the
vanity of our own efforts. We could bear to study
history only as we forget all the higher ends it might
serve as a school of training for immortal souls, and
as the steps of a Divine Architect through the broken
scaffolding and scattered stone-wreck upward to a
finished structure. The very glimpse of this is reviving, but to give up at once Architect and end, and see
human lives shattered and strewn across weary ages,
and human hearts torn and bleeding, with no abiding
result, this surely would fill a thoughtful mind with
pain. The more of such history, the more of sorrow.
III. Mere earthly knowledge is hopeless in its issue. -
For an illustration of this we may take the field of
abstract thought. The ultimate object of man's search
is to find the centre of knowledge which commands




80          INCREASE OF KNOWLEDGE,
the whole field. The man who begins the search after
truth is generally more satisfied with his progress than
he who has been long in the course. Those things
which, like the stem of a tree, seem simple and easily
grasped, spread away beneath into interminable roots,
where we can never count them all nor reach the end
of any one. Let a -man try to master a single subject,
and he will find it so. The road becomes longer and
the field wider as he proceeds. Side-paths strike off,
related sciences penetrate his special subjects of study,
which must be known if he is to understand his own
department thoroughly, till he feels how " brief is life
and how long is knowledge."  No mind can touch all
these things, far less contain them. The more one
knows the more one feels it; and the wider human science grows as a whole, the less is the portion that can
be overtaken by each individual. It is surely painful
to reflect that if there be not an infinite mind, the
universe can never, even as a material thing, be comprehended in thought. Each mind is like a glowworm with its little spot of light round it, but there is
no broad sun pouring illumination on the whole. It
would then be no universe, no one thing to any one
mind; and the increase of knowledge would only make
this more apparent, showing the unknown to be always
more than the known.
And if a man should feel impelled to go beyond the
surface of things, and to inquire into the origin of
being and the end of all things, without accepting a
God, doubt and darkness would only gather at every
step. If he is sustained by faith — by that magnetic
attraction of the soul to God which goes straight to




INCREASE OF SORROW.             81
Him by an intuition of the nature —he can keep his
hold in the midst of maze and obscurity. However
pleasant sight may be, it is not indispensable where he
can feel, where he is assured that there is one Mind
which grasps all from end to end, and to whose infinite reach his own finite spirit can advance for ever.
At one bound his soul gains the centre, and then his
reason can patiently travel up to it, and calmly wait
the removal of every difficulty.  But let a man
renounce this, and seek the origin and end of things
without God, and doubt grows as search deepens, for
doubt is on the face of all things if it be in the heart
of the inquirer. With no lamp in the soul there is no
light in the world. His own being and end become
an increasing perplexity. He grows in unquietness
and irresolution, which men do not feel who have not
entered on such a search. As he enlarges the circumference of knowledge he enlarges the encircling darkness, and even the knowledge yields no ray of true
satisfaction.
IV. Mere earthly knowledge is discouraging in its personal results. - We may consider here the moral nature
of man. Earthly science can do very much to improve
man's external circumstances. It can occupy his reason, it can refine and gratify his taste; but there are
greater wants that remain. If the man seeks something to fill and warm his heart, all the wisdom of this
world is only a cold phosphorescence. He pursues its
waters like thirsty Tantalus, and they touch his lips
and flee from them. He must say with Goethe, " Alas
that the yonder is never here! "  The tree of knowl6




82          INCREASE OF KNOWLEDGE,
edge never becomes the tree of life. Man may bury
the sense of this disappointment in intellectual toil;
but in some yearning, thoughtful hour the conviction
comes that the head may be filled with knowledge
and the heart be a painful void; that one look of the
living God would outweigh acquaintance with all his
works.
And if the man have an impression of the value of a
moral element in human nature, experience proves
how little way he can advance in moving others or
himself, if God and the soul's true worth be left out of
view. We know what Christianity has done for the
humblest and most abject by the recognition of these;
but we have yet to see what mere science and taste can
do without them. To increase one's knowledge of
human nature, with the feeling that there is no basis
of spiritual principle in it, — that we are creating a
surface of intelligence and refinement with no substance of soul-life beneath, is surely not an increase of
joy to any one who considers to what height the possession of a spirit might raise man. It is remarkable
that the great dramatist has made Hamlet, who had
most knowledge of this sort, one of the most unhappy
of his characters. To have our view of human nature
consolatory, we must feel that there is in it a spark of
the Divine.
If the man is desirous to have his own moral nature
rise to a noble elevation, he must be equally disappointed with the result of bare knowledge; not merely
with what is accomplished by it, for here we may all
be sad enough, but with what is promised by it. It
may have its negative value in occupying thought and




INCREASE OF SORROW.                 83
time, which might be devoted to ignoble uses; but it
cannot conquer passion, nor renew a nature that has
felt the degradation of sin. The great heights of holiness may sometimes rise before such a man, and the
sublime form of duty may gleam out and beckon him
to the sun-lit peak of perfection; but there is no power,
out of God, to help him to it, -"  The depth saith it
is not in me," and such an ideal, rising without the
power or hope to reach it, can only fill the man with a
more profound sadness.
V. Mere earthly knowledge has so brief a duration. -
Here we may contemplate life as a whole. If the
thought of God be admitted, all real knowledge has
the stamp of immortality. His touch turns the world's
commonest things to gold, and his image and superscription coin them in heaven's mint and make them
current for all time. The happy seeker of truth is he
who feels that in gaining it he is taking possession of
a perpetual treasure, and beginning a quest which is to
be enlarged by a new life in new words. But if there
be nothing of this, "' in one day all man's thoughts perish," -" The wise man dieth and the fool also." The
sweeter truth is to the taste, the more bitter must be
the thought of leaving the pursuit of it for ever.
" It is
A tower that crowns a country. But, alas!
The soul now climbs it, just to perish there,
For thence we have discovered,'tis no dream,
That there's a world of capability
For joy, spread round about us, meant for us,
Inviting us: and still the soul craves all,
And death replies - Take no jot more
Than ere thou climbed'st the tower to look abroad."




84          INCREASE OF KNOWLEDGE,
Now, it is very true that there are some men who
pursue earthly knowledge with unwearied ardor, and
who seem to have none of these sensations of disappointment in view of what we feel to be its shallowness
without a God, and its shortness without an immortality.
They follow it with deepest interest, rejoice in its acquisition, and die without an apparent regret. What are
we to say to this? If we knew all and could pierce
beneath the seeming indifference, which becomes at
times a philosophical fashion, we might find the same
instinct in them as in other men -the yearning cry
of the heart for an infinite Friend and an eternal life.
We would rather believe it so. To deny these high
hopes may be some sad perversion of the intellect, but
to slight them gives a view of human nature xwhich
affects one with something like dismay. If the indifference be assumed, it is a poor enough affectation; but
the learned as well as unlearned have their weaknesses.
There were great heathens who were free from- it,
whom the very conception of immortality fired to enthusiasm; and it is a pity there should be those, under
the light of Christianity, who take this way of showing
that they are superior to vulgar hopes. But if there
be some who have brought their inward feelings down
to such an outward fashion, and who are really as
indifferent to God and immortality as they seem, their
case cannot affect the general rule. Every man must
here judge from the testimony of his own nature, and
the humblest have the elements of decisio-n as near
them as the most learned. In some respects they have
them nearer, for the constant study of material law
leads a man to exaggerate and idolize it, unless he




INCREASE OF SORROW.             85
maintain that spiritual insight and that communion
with his soul which are the proper counterpoise. Material laws may be made, not a window through which
to look out at the real universe, but a dead wall to
hide it. After all, it is a question in which the head
cannot answer without inquiring at the heart. It is
this, Can any progress of earthly science reconcile us
to the loss of God and of the hope of immortality? and
we feel assured that, with the immense mass of men,
when their inner nature is truly consulted, the answer
would be found here — " The increase of knowledge is
the increase of sorrow." Whatever we may come to
know, if God be not, and earth be all, " Vanity of vanities " is the epitaph of life.
There are others, again, who accept this conclusion
sorrowfully, in some such way as this speaker seems
to have done. They say, " It is true that the aspirations of faith are the grandest thing in our nature, but
the progress of reason, in our researches, appears to
thrust them ever further from us. Our eternal hopes
are slowly perishing before the remorseless march of
science and criticism, and we can but weep over their
grave." It is impossible here to enter on so large a
question, but this may be observed, that there have
been, and there are, men whose names stand highest
in human knowledge, who have found it not only possible, but necessary, to unite science and faith — to
believe at the same time in a universe of law, and in
an infinite all-controlling Spirit. They have felt that
only by admitting both, can they account for the facts
around and within them.
One way to attain to this is to look on law not as




86           INCREASE OF KNOWLEDGE,
occupying the place of the spiritual element, thrusting
it back, as it were, from one domain to another till it
leaves it no foothold, but as itself the revelation of the
spiritual agency which is working everywhere and
always. God hides Himself behind law, and yet reveals
Himself through it, for every fresh discovery brings us
face to face with power directed by intelligence.
The next thing, and still more important, is to question our own inner nature regarding its need of a God,
and all that He can do for it. There are facts which
reveal themselves here as real as any in the external
world, and which are far too deep, too constant and universal, to be set aside as fancies. In this region the
greatest philosopher and the humblest mind stand
upon common and equal ground- the requirements
of the heart and conscience, and the everlastingly momentous questions of sin and duty, with the whence and
the whither of the soul of man. God meets all men
here on the same grand level, and Christ returned
special thanks for this, that He revealed Himself not
to "the wise and prudent," that is, not to them as
such, but unto babes. If human wisdom has the grace,
for the time, to forget itself and to commune reverently with the sense of spiritual need, side by side with
common humanity, it will find the presence of a God
of life and love as readily as the most unlearned, and
then no union on earth or in heaven can be nobler than
that of the lofty intellect and lowly heart, fearing no
path of inquiry, and rejoicing everywhere to find the
footsteps of God.
Let this further be considered, whether it is reasonable to suppose that man should be formed to love




INCREASE OF SORROW.             87
knowledge and pursue it, and yet that knowledge
should only increase his sorrow! It would do this,
though it were to give him the utmost he could contain of the finite, and end by robbing him of the infinite; for the share that a life's research can yield us
of this world's science must be felt to be incalculably
less than the prospect of eternal progress. The man
would then act wisely who followed the example of
the magnanimous king, when he surrendered all his
conquests to his captains, and reserved for himself hope.
There are some things, the idea of which is a greater
power and joy than all material possessions; and,
among these, the chief are, God and an eternal life.
This would be true, were they no more than an idea,
how much higher when they can be felt even here as a
fixed reality.
It is so, then, that man is urged on to the search
after knowledge, and nothing can stay him from it.
To learn is one of the deep, insatiable thirsts of his
nature; and yet, to learn on these conditions would be
to grow in pain and doubt. Can an all-wise Nature,
not to name a God, have made him thus, and established this everlasting disharmony between the impulse
of his mind and the craving of his heart? It cannot
be imagined, and therefore there must be a way of
reconciliation. It is to include God in the universe,
and to behold spirit behind matter everywhere. It is
to feel that the present life is an education for souls,
and that all the mysteries of time caln find their solution in eternity. Then the impulse to know is seen to
be the gift of God, and becomes filled with peace and




88          INCREASE OF KNOWLEDGE,
hope. It is there because truth is to be found; and
truth is not death, but life. Creation becomes then
instinct with spiritual meaning, and history receives a
key, and thought is based on reality, and moral power
keeps pace with mental progress, and the conviction
comes that whatever is interrupted in the lessons of
this life shall be resumed again; for God's broken
tables are always rewritten, and when the stone records perish they pass within into spirit and life. Let
us but take God into our system, and man's highest
ideal becomes real, for God's performance must be
above man's thought. If so be that we take God into
our system — and can we refuse this? — it is not
merely to put a controlling mind into the universe,
but a throbbing heart. To reveal this to us, the
Divine Wisdom  left the Father's bosom and came
down-   rejoicing in the habitable parts of the earth,
and his delights were with the sons of men."  His
life and death and revival are the power of God and
the wisdom of God, and open a new world in the soul
of man greater than that around him. Let us but
take Him into our heart, and how sweet shall all " the
words of knowledge be unto our taste!" A break
will appear in the clouds of darkest doubt, a new light
on sea and shore, and the door of death be changed
into the gate of a glorious temple where study and
adoration walk side by side, and angels who know clasp
hands with angels who burn. If now for a time these
seem separated, it is but for a time. The age of faith
without knowledge may for a while have its recoil
in the pride of a knowledge that undervalues faith,




INCREASE OF SORROW.            89
but the soul must assert its rights, and God cannot be
dethroned, and light shall rejoice in life, and " wisdom
and knowledge shall be the stability of our times and
strength of salvation -and the fear of the Lord our
treasure."




VI.
$OCd tIining,Jrst ajvtd nf ferRIte
"And./oshua said unto the people, re cannot serve the Lord,
for he is an holy God; He wvill not forgive your transgressions
nor your sins." -JOSHUA XXiV. I9.
F there be any one thing true in the Bible, it is'?Ql/  that God welcomes the very first approach
\~     which man makes to Him. The Bible has no
other end than to give men the invitation to return to
God. Christ, who fills the Bible from first to last, has
no word on his lips but " Come;" and God himself
has declared: " As I live, saith the Lord God, I have
no pleasure in the death of the wicked; but that the
wicked turn from his way and live." Yet here Joshua
offers a repulse to men who wish to avow themselves
on the side of God. Are we to suppose that he spoke
unadvisedly?  He was a wise man; it was a solemn
and well-weighed occasion; and there is every ground
for believing that he was under Divine direction. Are
we to conclude, then, that the people were insincere?
We have no evidence of this, but the reverse, in their




GOD DECLINING FIRST OFFERS OF SERVICE.   91
subsequent conduct. There must be some reason for
the manner in which they are met, and we shall try to
discover it..First, however, we shall seek to show that this procedure on the part of God is not so unusual. If we
can do so it will bring the matter more home to ordinary experience, and make the consideration of it more
practical.
A number of instances might easily be found in the
Bible of such obstacles thrown in the way of men who
offer themselves to the service of God. You may
recollect how the band of Gideon was chosen. Not
all who presented themselves were accepted, but time
after time the troop was cut down till three hundred
alone remained as God's chosen soldiers. When the
wise men from the East came seeking Christ, the star
seemed to desert them, and they met with disappointment and perplexity from all their inquiries in Jerusalem. When the Jews, stirred up to expect the coming
Messiah, sent messengers to John, in the hope that
they had found their desire, "he confessed and denied
not, but confessed, I am not the Christ." We cannot
forget the strange treatment of the woman of Canaan
by the Lord himself; how she cried after Him, and
was not answered, and met at length what appeared a
contemptuous rejection. In the same way He acted to
the scribe who came to Him with such an unconditional
offer of discipleship: " Master, I will follow Thee
whithersoever Thou goest."  "This is no common
pleasure-walk," was the reply;' The foxes have holes,
and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of
Man hath not where to lay his head." And after his




92               GOD DECLINING
resurrection, when He accompanied the two who were
going to Emmaus, and they were about to enter the
house, " He made as though He would have gone further." They needed "to constrain Him" before He
went in " to tarry with them."  Such examples might
be multiplied to almost any extent, and they show that
coldness to first offers of approach is not an uncommon
thing in the path of those who seek God.
There is another way of finding the same result in the
Bible. Consider, for example, the view that is given
of the character of God. He is presented to us not
only as good, and ready to forgive, but as just and
righteous, -a God who cannot look on sin without
displeasure. For a long time this is the most prominent view. Sinai casts a great shadow, and prolongs
its thunders, bofore the gospel comes distinctly with
its still small voice of peace. There are many terrible
threatenings, many dreadful judgments against sin and
sinners, which have all this language in them: "Ye
cannot serve the Lord, for He is an holy God." Even
in Calvary, Sinai is not forgotten. The steps of the
earthquake are felt beneath the Cross, thick darkness
overshadows it, a piercing voice that tells of the fearful evil of sin descends from it, and we are addressed
in the gospel: "' Wherefore let us have grace whereby
we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly
fear: for our God is a consuming fire" (Heb. xii. 28,
29).
When we leave Bible representations, and come to
the experience of individuals, we meet with many
similar illustrations. In regard to the general evidence of the divinity of the Bible, we can see that




FIRST OFFERS OF SERVICE.         93
God has not constructed it on the plan of overpowering the conviction of any man at first sight. Many
men feel great difficulties about it, and it would be
false to say that these men are insincere. They often
come with a true desire to find God's way, and put
themselves among his servants, and yet they are met
with obstacles, outside the Bible and inside it, which
keep them standing and struggling for a long time.
There is no use in denying this, or in casting obloquy
and suspicion on every misgiving. It is far better to
be brought to see that this is in accordance with the
plan of the Bible, in many other instances, -that
there is after all a way of overcoming honest doubts
and reaching perfect certainty, — and that there are
wise ends gained by the method God has chosen.
And even when a man has come to the entire conviction that the gospel is Divine, that there is "none
other name given under heaven whereby we must be
saved but the name of Jesus Christ," he is not assured thereby of perfect peace of heart. Many a one
has to cry again and again for his soul, as the woman
of Canaan for her child, before lie is heard, or has to
lift his voice like the blind men by the wayside, and
has to endure the rebukes of the passers-by, and the
silence of Christ, till his eyes are opened. To speak
of entire comfort and acceptance being found at first,
and always, when a man comes to Christ, would be to
offend against the generation of God's children, and to
wrong the experience of many of the most earnest inquirers. And then, though a mailn may trust that he is
resting upon the mercy of God in Christ, and that he
has been fully and freely pardoned, there may come a




94                GOD DECLINING
deep sense of responsibility at the thought of taking
upon himself the vows of Christian service. There is
a light and easy way of doing it on the part of some,
without considering very well what is required, or what
may be the consequences to the name of Christ if they
walk unworthy of it. Many profess Christianity with
far more irreverence than some others keep aloof from
it. The highest thing, indeed, is to feel it to be dutiful, and advance to it deliberately and in humble reliance on the grace of God; but there are thoughtful
and self-distrustful natures which have long and deep
shrinking, because their eye has seen the purity of God
and the poverty of self. It was the feeling of the centurion, - " Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldest
come under my roof; " and of Peter, when his natural boldness failed him at sight-of Christ's majesty, —
C Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, 0 Lord."
Within certain limits the feeling is true, and most becoming. It is God repeating in a humble heart the
words of Joshua: "Ye cannot serve the Lord, for He
is an holy God."
Second, Having sought to show that this procedure,
on the part of God, is not so unusual, we may now attempt to find some reasons for it.
As a first reason we may assign this, that it sifts
the true from the false seeker. We refer here not -to
arriving at the profession of Christianity, but at the
principle of it in the heart. Many reach the profession
who have never found the reality, and some find the
reality who never make the profession. We speak of
a man arriving at the root and ground of Christianity
in his heart and character. It seems part of God's plan




FIRST OFFERS OF SERVICE.        95
that this should not be reached without struggle, in
order that the spiritual element in the new man may
be tested. We are told of Christ when He entered the
world that He was " to be set for the fall and rising of
many in Israel, and for a sign which should be spoken
against, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed."  The gospel comes into the world to be a
touchstone of human nature-to be Ithuriel's spear
among men. There is enough in it to attract and convince at last every man who has a sense of spiritual
need and a desire of spiritual deliverance, but it is presented in such a form as to try whether the soul really
possesses this, and therefore we may have obstacles of
various kinds at the very entrance. "When Pliable
and Christian came to the Slough of Despond- which
lay before the wicket-gate, they both fell in and wallowed for a time in the mire, unable to escape. Pliable
was offended, and angrily said to his fellow: Is this
the happiness you have told us of all this while? So,
after a desperate struggle or two he got out of the mire
on that side of the Slough which was next his own
house, and away he went, and Christian saw him no
more. But Christian endeavored to struggle to that
side of the Slough which was furthest from his own
house, and next to the wicket-gate, and so he escaped
and came at last upon sound ground." Both of them
met with discouragement, but this made the difference,
that Christian struggled to the side of the Slough which
was " furthest from his own house and nearest to the
wicket-gate." He did not give up for the first repulse,
because his desire was to be out of sin, and beyond it,
and to find God, and so he " came at last upon dry
ground."




96                GOD DECLINING
It may seem a strange and unworthy thing that
such an obstacle should meet a man in the very commencement of such a journey; but, after all, let it be
remembered that what makes it an obstacle is the state
of heart of the man himself. The Slough is not so
much to be found without the heart as within it, and
if one followed up the matter to its source we should
find that the difficulty was not on the side of God, but
in the soul of the individual.  This further may be
said, that no one will be able to complain'of any real
wrong from such obstacles. The false seeker is not
injured, because he never sincerely sought at all.
There was no sense of sin's evil, no wish to be saved
from it, and till this exists nothing can be sought, and
nothing found. The true seeker is not injured, for
never was such an one disappointed.   When the
flickering phosphorescence glimmers out, the spark,
although as faint as in the smoking flax, lives on and
rises to a flame. True need asks and seeks and
knocks, increases its appeal with every difficulty, cries
after Christ like the woman of Canaan, and wrestles
till it conquers at the breaking of the day.
Next, it leads the true seeker to examine himself more
thoroughly. If a man is accepted, or thinks he is accepted, at once, he takes many things for granted
which it would be well for him to inquire into. Very
specially is this the case in regard to the nature of sin,
and the light in which God regards it. Almost all the
errors of our time, or of any time, have their root here,
and it would be well for many to be sent back for reflection with the words of Joshua-" He is an holy'
God, He is a jealous God; He will not forgive your




FIRST OFFERS OF SERVICE.          97
transgressions nor your sins." Not that Joshua would
lead them to doubt God's mercy, but he would have
them to see that it is a more difficult question than
men in general fancy. The easy complacency with
which some talk of pardon, and their assurance of it,
often springs more from dulness of conscience than
strength of faith. They have not stood and studied
the great subjects of the sinfulness of sin and the
terrible havoc it has made, of the inflexible claims of
law, and the grandeur and terror of the view of a God
of justice of whose nature moral law is an essential
and unbending part. They have never looked on Sinai
till they have felt that they are under the curse, nor on
God's purity till they have cried out, "Behold I am
vile." It is said, and said truly, that a man will learn
these things most perfectly in the light of the cross of
Christ; but it is also true that unless he knows and
feels something of them already the cross of Christ
will have no light for him. We cannot think too
highly of the mercy of God, or cast ourselves on it too
soon, but we shall never understand it nor cast ourselves on it at all until we feel something of the evil
of sin and the claims of the law of God. The vague
and careless talk about a God of mercy, so much indulged in by multitudes, has spread the conception of
a gospel that is no gospel, which neither reveals to man
the infinite compassion of God, nor his infinite abhorreIlce of moral evil, deliverance from which is the one
only salvation. The natural result of such a defective
view is, that when a man enlists with it in God's
service, he does so without any distinct idea of what
he is to aim at. He is very ready to think that the
7




98                GOD DECLINING
great end of the gospel is to deliver him from a certain
amount of suffering and procure him a certain quantity
of happiness. He does not see that the gospel binds
us to the service of a God of truth and purity, and that
only in this way can its blessings be enjoyed. When
we accept the gospel, we not only receive something
from God, we give something to Him. In the language
of the apostle," we yield ourselves unto God." Where
this is forgotten altogether, where service is passed by,
it is what the apostle terms "' receiving the grace of
God in vain," and, where it is put into the background, it produces a weak, sinewless Christianity,
which seeks a comfortable home for itself, and does
small work for the cause of either God or man. It is
very good for a man, then, if lhe is in danger of too
hasty acquiescence, that he should be compelled to examine himself both about his view of God's character
in the pardon of sin, and what this requires of him in
the way of serf-surrender to God.
Further, it binds a man to his profession by a stronger
sense of consistency. There is a paper of obligations
put into our hands to sign,' and, when we take the pen,
we are bidden read it over and ponder it, that we may
subscribe with clear consciousness of the contents.
God will beguile no man into his service by false pretences. He stops us when we would rush into it thoughtlessly, tells us the nature of the work, what his own
character gives Him a right to expect of us, and then,
if we still go forward, He can say, " Ye are witnesses
against yourselves, that ye have chosen you the Lord
to serve Him," and we are compelled to own " we are
witnesses." There is nothing that a Christian man




FIRST OFFERS OF SERVICE.        99
meets with in his course through life, however difficult
or painful, but he might have anticipated it all if he
had only studied the chart drawn out in the Word of
God. He need never complain that " some strange
thing has happened to him." If he encounters worldly
losses, cross-currents which try his patience and tem.
per, sore bereavements that lay waste his heart, it was
written down, " In the world ye shall have tribulation."
If his adherence to principle should make him disliked
by some, and smiled at by others, he might have known
it-" They shall speak evil of you falsely, for my
name's sake;" and if we have much less of this than
Christ foretold, it may be very much because we are
not acting up to what Christ enjoined. If there are
inward assaults of evil thoughts or hours of languor
and depression, God's Word has spoken of " fiery
darts," of" hands that hang down and feeble knees."
If sometimes these accumulate and threaten utter ruin,
we may be reminded of" deep calling unto deep," of
the "great fight of afflictions," and that "' we must
through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of
God." Probably none of us realize these things fully
till they come upon us, and then we open the Bible
and read it with a new light, but it is well for us
to have at least some idea of them beforehand, that
we may be kept from the murmurs and backsliding
of men taken by utter surprise. And so, in different
ways, by outward warnings in the Bible and inward
difficulties of heart, God brings men to a pause till
they fully consider the case and count the cost. Then
" we are witnesses against ourselves." We knew it,
or we might have known it. We have put our hand to
the plough, and we cannot go back.




100               GOD DECLINING
Lastly, it educates us to a higher growth and greater
capacity of happiness. When we see the wind shaking
a young tree, and bending it to the very earth, it may
seem to be retarding its rise, but it is furthering it. It
is making it strike its roots deeper into the ground,
that its stem may rise higher and stronger, till it can
struggle with tempests, and spread its green leaves to
a thousand summers. The winds and storms are the
educators of the tree no less than the sunbeams
and the dew. In the intellectual world a strong mind
thrives on difficulties. There is no falser method of
education than to make all smooth and easy, and remove every stone before the foot touches it. God himself has hidden the knowledge of his creation in the
depths of the sky and the bosom of the earth. He has
demanded toil and travail, keen and patient thought,
till study has become a weariness to the flesh, in order
that man's intellect may rise to its proper stature. It
would have been a strange thing if the spiritual world
had been an exception. Even in an unfallen state, if
there is to be a progressive nature, there must be struggle, and if struggle there must be obstacles. Much
more where the alloy of sin has entered and needs to
be smelted out by the hot furnace. And, therefore,
God who sets man to battle with Nature, 1" that hard
nurse," and to win the bread of knowledge from her
by the sweat of brain, enters the lists Himself as an
antagonist to the soul, that He may call out all its
energies, and make it a more worthy child and heir.
The time is not past when He comes down to wrestle
in the seasons of the night with men, to be a seeming
opponent to them in the great conflicts of the soul, and




FIRST OFFERS OF SERVICE.         101
not surrender his blessing until it has sometimes been
wrung from Him by agonies of importunity; but all
the while He wrestles on their side, and draws out
their strength that it may lay hold of his, and so prevail. Nor can we surely forget another agony, that ofChrist himself, which had in it a part that was peculiarly his own, but a part also that is common to us, if
we are to share his sufferings and enter fully into his
joy. HI  had his conflict with a hidden face, from
which the veil could be drawn only by strong crying
and tears; and, in proportion as we have fellowship
with Him in this, we become " strengthened with might
by his Spirit in the inner man;" and then it follows,
as the apostle declares (Eph. iii. 16, 19), that " we are
filled with all the fulness of God." This is the course
appointed to those whom God would make very strong
and very glad, and, so far as we can see in this world,
there is a necessary chain in it.
Read the manner in which such men as Paul and
Luther and Pascal passed through the gate of life, not
easily and complacently, but with fears within and
figlltings without, and you will see how God made them
grow such men as they became. And, though we are
far distant from that mark, very humble plants in the
garden of God beside those great trees of righteousness, yet, if we are to rise to any thing, it must be in
the same way, not by soft indulgent nurture, but by
endurance of hardship, and pressing on against repulse.
It is very sore to do it at times, sorest of all, when the
coldness and repulse are from God. "' Wherefore hidest thou thy face, and holdest me for thine enemy? "
(Job xiii. 24). But it is then that the soul's strength




102               GOD DECLINING
rises most conspicuous, and becomes, through God's
grace, competent to struggle with God himself;
" though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." It is
to this issue God wishes to bring it, and then He gladly
gives way. "The kingdom of heaven," as Christ has
declared, " suffereth violence, and the violent take it
by force," that the man may prove himself the better
soldier, and receive of God at last a brightei crown.
It is in entire accordance with all these things that
a bar is here thrown, for a time, across the path of these
Israelites, in the words of Joshua, " Ye cannot serve the
Lord, for He is an holy God; He will not forget your
transgressions nor your sins." There are most blessed
truths in the Bible which assure us that God is ever
first to seek, that He is ready to save, and that His
salvation is free as it is priceless; but there is another
side of truth in the Word of God which needs also to
be brought out -that numbers feel difficulty in entering the way of life, and that God himself does not at
once give them a conscious sense that He has accepted
their service. If we were to affirm the reverse it would
be a false view of the gospel, and against the experience
of many who are seeking God very sincerely. I do
believe that all the while He is most willing to receive,
-far more willing than the seeker is to be accepted;
but He has his own ways of leading men to Himself,
and may appear to withdraw that He may attract the
more strongly, and to hide that He may be found in
truer and deeper possession.
If there be some who have been seeking God, as
they think, in vain, and have given up the search as
fruitless, what can we do but urge them to renew the




FIRST OFFERS OF SERVICE.        103
application? Come, as these Israelites did, with the
words, "Nay; but we will serve the Lord."  I can
suppose a twofold class who have ceased to seek.
There are some, perhaps, with a feeling of wounded
pride or petulance. They say they have done their
best, and it is useless. They have gone through a
course of inquiry and search and prayer, and they
have found neither comfort nor hope. Would it not be
worth the while of such to reconsider this part of it,
and to see whether some of the blame may not lie with
themselves? If the blame must lie either in men or
in God, it is not likely that it is entirely with Him.
Are they quite sure they have sought Him with a
renunciation of the pride of self-righteousness, and
with the desire to be freed from sin, casting themselves
on His mercy and grace through Jesus Christ? If
they can affirm all this, is it too much that they should
have to wait, when God has already waited for them,
and when their waiting may be only to try their earnestness, and to increase it? How much it needs trial
and increase, their very conduct shows. If they still
refuse to seek God any more, let them consider on
whom they are taking revenge. Their service is not so
necessary to Him as his help and favor can be to them,
and the time may come when they cannot so well want
Him as they think they can. Still, " if it seem evil to
them to serve the Lord, let them choose this day whom
they will serve." Has the world, its honor, its pleasure, its profit, rewarded all the labor they have bestowed on it, or have they resolved also to turn their
back on it for every repulse? If men would but seek
God and eternity with half the earnestness with which




104               GOD DECLINING
they strive for time and earth,. they would not have to
complain of want of success, and if they refuse peevishly to follow after God, because He does not at once
meet their desire, it only proves that they have never
truly sought Him  at all. Their poor excuse may
please themselves now, but it will avail very little when
they enter into judgment with Him.
There may, however, be another class who have left
off seeking God, from very different motives, not in
petulance but in despondency, who have not so much
turned their back on search, as sat down, wearied and
hopeless, in the midst of it. It is very sad, and I
know that earnest souls have often been brought to
this condition, all the more felt by them for their very
earnestness —nay, that their deepest grief and fear
are that they have never been in earnest at all. Their
very grief is, to all except themselves, the proof of
their earnestness, and the assurance of their success.
Let them consider that they have to do with One who
will not break the bruised reed nor quench the smoking flax; that the heart of God is with them; that the
darkness and death of Christ, now changed to the
strength of intercession, are on their side, and all
those heavenly promises which are Yea and Amen in
Him, and which, as bright and as many as the stars in
their courses, all fight for them. Let them think of
Jacob's wrestling, of David's tears, of Paul's threefold prayer, of the woman of Canaan, of Christ himself, who was always heard, and yet had to cry in
agony; and let them be sure that if they continue to
look to God they shall be lightened, and find there
were good reasons for the cloud and darkness, even




FIRST OFFERS OF SERVICE.       105
very abundant dews of God in them, to prepare them
for coming sunshine. And, if all these considerations
fail, let them still take up this language, "Nay; but
we will serve the Lord," " We cannot force from Him
a sense of his favor, but we can humbly and perseveringly offer Him our service- not as a price, but as a
humble tribute to Him, whose we are and whom we
ought to serve. On this we are resolved, whatever be
the issue, for this is just and right, and all his own."
Let us bless God if any one is brought to this resolve,
for now, to say it in a word, it is to this that God
would bring us. The delay which Christians have in
gaining a sense of acceptance with God, arises often
from making the sense of acceptance the main object
of pursuit. But there is something higher- to serve
God whether we have the sense of acceptance or no
-to come back to this as the one great purpose of
life and end of our being: " Nay; but we will serve
the Lord."  If we could only be more concerned
about the will of God than our own comfort, - if, with
a noble oblivion, we could forget self and remember
Him and the obedience which we owe, we should soon
find, " by patient continuance in well-doing," that
" glory, honor, and immortality," and present acceptance with God, which is the beginning of them, are
his free gift to us in Jesus Christ, never far from them
that wait for Him - from the soul that seeketh Him.




VII.,  Xoltdle     Jhoitc  anmd its  ]4ontSpres.
"And Lot lifted up his eyes, and beheld all the jplain of ordan,
that it was well watered everywhere..... Then Lot chose him
all the plain of ~7ordan.... But the men of Sodom were wicked,
and sinners before the Lord exceedingly." - GEN. xiii. Io-I3.
HAT Lot was a good man in the ground of his
character there is no reason to doubt.  The
Wht I  course of the narrative shows it, in which,
though sorely punished, he is finally delivered, and the
apostle Peter (2 Peter ii. 7) expressly terms him "just
Lot, vexed with the filthy conversation of the wicked."
But good men have their besetting sins.  Lot's was
worldliness, and it cost him dear.
I. One of the first things we shall attempt to show
is, some of the features of the choice which Lot here
made.
One of these is this, that worldly advantage was the
chief element in determining his place in life.  " He
lifted up his eyes, and beheld all the plain of Jordan,
even as the garden of the Lord, like the land of Egypt."




A WORLDLY CHOICE, AND ITS CONSEQUENCES. 107
The volcanic fires, slumbering beneath, made that vale
so fertile that its riches have become proverbial; and
the Jordan, which has now so short a course to the
Dead Sea, then wandered through the plain, like
the rivers of Eden. Lot's eye regarded neither the
dangers sleeping beneath, nor the light of God above,
but only the corn and wine and verdant pastures. It
is not the part of religion to teach us to despise natural beauty, or make us prefer to cultivate barren soil
if we can get better. Asceticism is no feature of the
Bible, from first to last. But to make outward advantage the first and main object in choosing our path in
life, is certainly not the guidance of the Word of God;
and either Lot was without true principle at the time,
or he had for the season forgotten it. Wealth, or the
chance of making it, is not the one thing needful;
and that man pursues a very unwise and unchristian
course who rushes straight at it, without taking other
things into account. There are many signs of materialism in our age, and this among them, that the
acquisition of money is one of the first things which
men think of in choosing a profession for themselves
or their children. Our natural capability of mind is
one thing to be considered, for only as we cultivate it
can we be most useful to our fellow-men, and most
happy in ourselves. It is not with impunity that a
man can do violence to his own nature, or crush that
of his child, with no other motive than hasting to be
rich. And still higher than natural taste is principle.
The question, Can I, with a clear sense of duty, enter
into such a line of pursuit? Am I not venturing into
relationships where it will be hard, if not impossible,




108             A WORLDLY CHOICE,
for me to maintain a conscience void of offence?
These points do not seem at all to have troubled Lot,
or they were lightly put aside in view of his material
interests. We do him no injustice, for he remained
clinging to Sodom, years afterwards, though he must
have felt the deleterious atmosphere. He returned to
Sodom when he had lost all, and had recovered it
again through Abraham. That sharp warning was
ineffectual, and he needed to be forced from the place
by God's destroying angel. What weighed with him
all the while was that which determined him at first,the rich returns of the fertile soil. When, in any step
of life, the readiest thought which occurs to a man is
not duty, or benevolence, or mental taste and capability,
but bare worldly advantage, let him look at it well in
other lights. Such a motive, if indulged, is certain to
end by shutting out his view of all that is high and
true in life, and to lead him into dark and miry ways.
A second feature of Lot's choice was, that it betrayed
a great want of generosity. Abraham, to preserve good
feeling, proposed that their encampments should be
kept apart, and he gave Lot the selection of place. It
was in accordance with the noble nature of Abraham;
and had Lot shared, or been capable of appreciating it,
he would have declined to avail himself of the offer.
But he grasped at it eagerly, and took the richest side.
It may be he had the slightest possible feeling of contempt for Abraham's unworldliness and simplicity, and
congratulated himself on his own shrewdness. This
is one of the mean things in life, to gloat over a gain
that may have dropped from the generosity, or may
have been stolen from the simplicity, of a friend who




AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.'109
scorns to be always standing on the extreme edge of
his rights. It is a " blessing of himself by the covetous which the Lord abhors." And yet there are too
many under the name of Christian who rejoice to
" gather where they have not strawed," who snatch at
every favor without scruple or compensation, and
delight greatly in men of generous natures, because
they can make their own use of them. They salve it
to their conscience by the excuse, " to him it is nothing, and since he does not feel the loss I may take the
benefit - if I do not, another will." Whether the man
is a Christian who can act so may be a question, but
this is sure, that Christianity has very little to do with
this part of his character. One comfort we can take is,
that if religion has sometimes its Lots, it has also its
Abrahams; and that the Bible, in its narratives and
precepts, shows unmistakably on which side its sympathies lie. This observation may be made in regard to
such men, that they are the most unsatisfactory of all
friends, paining us constantly in intercourse by their
narrow selfishness, and failing us in the hour of need.
Love of the world unfits for the duties of friendship
much more than many other faults that are more glaring, and in forming our associations it may be well to
bear this in mind.
A third feature of Lot's choice was, that it showed
disregard of religious privileges. "The men of Sodom
were wicked, and sinners before the Lord exceedingly."
This is said in connection with Lot's choice, as if to
intimate to us that it was full in his view when he
came to a decision. Their sins were of a peculiarly
gross and inhuman kind; and were the growth of that




110            A WORLDLY CHOICE,
very luxuriance of soil which made Lot choose it for
his home. The prophet Ezekiel (xvi. 49) enumerates
these three causes of the sins of Sodom, "pride, fulness of bread, and abundance of idleness." And how
they are still the parents of vice in prosperous communities we know full well. It shows how widespread
and inveterate the wickedness of the community was,
that when the fiery deluge came down, not one beyond
Lot's family was counted worthy to escape. Can there
be conceived a more unpromising place for a man who
had a spark of religion in him to enter, if he wished to
keep it still burning? Had it been very warm and
bright he would not have ventured there; for this is
observable, that in general those who have least religion to lose are most ready to thrust it into danger. It
is very likely that if Lot thought at all of the question
of religious privilege, and the hazard of evil association to himself and his children, he had a number of
ways of smoothing his choice to his conscience. One
of these, common enough yet, might be that he was
going there to do a great deal of good. Their wickedness made it the very spot for him to work in, and set
a different example. If this were genuine, it might be
very well; but when it is merely a pretext, the man
cannot cover it comfortably from himself, and it is
somehow found out still sooner by the sinners who are
to be converted. Nothing prejudices religion more
than to use its interests as a mask for covetousness.
He who enters a den of wickedness for the sake of
worldly profit is not likely to make a very successful
missionary, and his self-seeking is sure to peep out in
all his actions. He may speak a great deal about




AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.           111
another world, but if he shows himself so bent upon
making the most of this, the place would on the whole
be more improved by his absence. It is a sad thing
that we should have cast in our face the example of
many professing Christians who talk so cheaply of the
present world, and yet show themselves so anxious to
buy it. For the sake of religion, it would be well if
they either dropped such language, or adopted different
conduct.
We cannot affirm that all this was true of Lot to the
letter, but this at least is clear, that when he was compelled to quit Sodom, he could not count a single convert, nor carry with him one religious friend. The
best thing we know of him is what is said by the
apostle Peter, " that his soul was grieved by their conversation;" but if it was so, and if from fear of the
consequences, or despair of doing any good, he had left
off all efforts to reform them, the sooner he quitted
Sodom  the better. When a man ceases to strive
against evil, he yields to it; and it can be no one's
duty, in such a case, to remain where his holiest feelings are lacerated, his conscience deadened, and his
family exposed to the corruption of a debasing atmosphere. Unhappily, the longer he continues, the less
able he becomes to move, for conscience offers less remonstrance, associations strengthen their hold, and
the only thing that saves him is the shock of some sore
judgment. The more carefully therefore should every
Christian weigh the first choice.
It is not always an easy question, how far a man
should go in surrendering religious privileges when he
has to select some path of life. Every one must




112             A WORLDLY CHOICE,
admit that it is too much left out of account. If
a man quits Christian ordinances and friends for thle
sake of extending gospel truth, let him be sure it is for
this end, and not with the covert object of gaining
some worldly advantage. His own conscience should
be clear, and, if possible, the case be beyond reach of
mistake by others. Few sacrifices can be felt to be
greater by a right man than to leave all wells of Christian refreshment behind him and venture out into the
dry wide desert to seek the lost; but if it be to seek
the lost, God will open rivers in the wilderness for him.
Let no man, however, enter Sodom for gain under pretence of being a missionary. He endangers the little
religion he has, and may come off in the end with
unspeakable shame and loss.
We can suppose many a case in which a man is reduced by stern necessity to quit high religious privileges, and go where there are few or none, in order to
provide subsistence for himself and his family. But
if he carries true regret for the loss, and goes in the
right spirit, he is in the path of duty, and may not
only have his own religion preserved, but be made
useful in kindling new life. This, however, is a very
different case from one where it is only a question of
more or less gain. The evil is, that many Christians
are quite willing to run great risks with their soul for
a very little comfort to their body. They do not reflect that there is a " life which is more than meat."
II. We may now look at some of the consequences of
Lot's choice, and, in, doing so, we shall take the three
features already indicated, and show how each one
brought its own sting and loss.




AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.         113
As he made worldly advantage his chief aim, he failed
in gaining it. We are far from saying that this will
always be the case. If a man be a mere man of the
world, and set himself to prosecute its objects at any
cost, he will frequently succeed. " Verily, I say unto
you, they have their reward." This is their choice, and
they get it. But if a man is really a child of God, and
is in danger of losing his soul from worldly temptations, his salvation may lie in his failure; and that
failure may sometimes arise from the compromise he
is attempting. When an utterly regardless man may
succeed, another who is encumbered with scruples will
be defeated. This is no reason why he should throw
scruples away, but very good reason why he should
not enter a path where he is so strongly urged to tamper with them.
Now, see how Lot's choice came back on him. He
grasped recklessly at worldly advantage, and twice he
lostb ig entire possessions, — the second time, as it
would seem,,ronud recovery. In the first instance,
the kings of the East plundered Sodom, and carried
off Lot and all he had. "They took Lot and his
goods," - an emphatic conjunction. There was much
property, and it was much to him, for his heart was
in it. No doubt it was a sore blow to Lot, and was
meant as a warning to quit the place. But he refused
to take it, and the stroke came next time direct from
God, and with more crushing weight. He who would
not leave Sodom of his own free will, must be driven
from it by the sword of the avenging angel. He went
out poorer than he entered, and all his wealth perished
with the men of Sodom. So when God punishes open
8




114            A WORLDLY CHOICE,
sinners, He can judge the sins of his own people by
the way. He can mingle judgment with mercy, but
also mercy with judgment, and Lot was made to feel
it when he fled from the fiery rain, stripped of the
labors of years, and did not dare to look behind on the
ruin of his hopes. If we are God's people, and have a
cherished sin, He will burn it in spite of us. It is His
promise, "When thou walkest through the fire thou
shalt not be burned," but this does not include the
evil desire of our heart. Nay, it must be burned if
we are to be preserved, and for this the fire of trial is
kindled. Lord, spare us not the fire, but save us from
choosing the road that needs it!
Next, let it be observed, that as Lot failed in generosity to Abraham, he was repeatedly brought under the
weightiest obligations to him. If this did not make him
blush, it should have done so. Lot took what may be
called an unfair advantage, and trusted perhaps that
he was in a clear way to outstrip Abraham in wealth,
but, ere many years had passed, he owed all he had -
family, property, liberty —to Abraham's timely and
courageous interposition. Abraham never reproached
him, but let us hope Lot's own heart did. Time came
round, and when Sodom was ripe for destruction Abraham's voice was raised for it. That Lot was there,
was no doubt one reason why he pleaded so urgently.
Sodom could not be spared, but Lot was rescued, and
Abraham's intercession, no less than Lot's own character, had to do with that result (Gen. xix. 29). The
friend with whom he had dealt so ungenerously fought
with men and wrestled with God for him, and, in both
conflicts, like a prince he prevailed. In his old days,




AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.          115
when reduced to poverty, it is every way likely that
Lot was again indebted to Abraham for succor. Certainly, if it was needed, it was given, and given without upbraiding. We may believe that regret for his
past course, and something like shame, filled Lot's
heart when he saw his own selfish conduct brought
into contrast with the noble character of his friend.
If a man will not blush for his own ungenerous acts,
God can make him blush for the barren results of them.
So old are the maxims under which we still live:
"The liberal deviseth liberal things, and by liberal
things shall he stand;" " There is that scattereth and
yet increaseth; and there is that withholdeth more
than is meet, but it tendeth to poverty."
And then there is this last, that Lot's disregard of
spiritual privileges brought upon him a bitter entail of sin
and shame. There can be little doubt that Lot's own
religious character suffered from the long sojourn in
Sodom. A man cannot voluntarily expose himself to
the worst of influences, from the mere love of gain,
without his religious sensibilities being deadened; and
this only can account for the grievous termination to
the history of Lot, which is among the most melancholy records in the Word of God. It is one of those
cases which we must contemplate because it is there,
- very terrible, and very necessary to be thought of;
but we would wish to look at it as Abraham did at the
ruin of Sodom (Gen. xix. 27), standing in the place
where we have met God, and looking at it "a great
way off." There is a general consistency in the lives
of men; and such a deplorable spiritual catastrophe
could not well have happened to one who strove to




116            A WORLDLY CHOICE,
maintain warm religious feeling, and to keep himself
unspotted from the world. To Lot's family the disregard of all religious associations was even worse. It
is not improbable that he professed a concern for their
interests when he made his choice of the riches of the
cities of the plain. It was to secure them a good provision and position in the world, - for men spoke then
as they do now. But when such things are sought in
the face of principle, they may be gained with lamentable deductions. His wife caught the infection of the
place, and became in love, deep and unholy, with its
fashions. It may have been her influence which prevented Lot from leaving sooner, and, with all the urgency of doom behind, he could not carry her with him.
The family of Lot mingled with the men of Sodom, and
learned their ways. When the poor father, alarmed
for his children's safety, implored his sons-in-law —
" Up, get you out of this place, for the Lord will destroy this city," "he seemed as one that mocked."
We can perceive, in this closing scene, how much Lot
must have had to bear from those who were most nearly
related to him. We know what sins followed the fall
of Sodom, and what a salvation Lot still needed from
the fearful pit and from the miry clay into which he
was led. Of the remainder of his life we know nothing. There are those who, we have reason to believe,
were good men, that pass before their death into a
cloud, for our warning. We cherish the hope that the
sore lessons of God's chastisement were gathered up,
and that contrition marked the close; but their repentance is not obtruded on us. It would be well if
some learned this modest reticence of the Bible, and




AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.          117
did not parade before us the boisterous assurance of
notorious criminals when we would rather see them
walk softly in the bitterness of their soul. The Bible
drops the veil of that silence, which has its lesson, over
such cases as Adam and Solomon, and here also over
Lot. The root of the matter, we believe, was in him;
but he was one of those good men who teach us more
by their faults than their attainments, - standing as
beacons on the edge of terrible breakers, rather than
moving like lights to lead us to places of refuge, and
the chief purpose of whose life seems to be to show
how far a good man may go astray, and yet leave
ground for believing that he was saved, as by fire,
through the grace of God.
If there be a life in the Bible which warns against
the spirit of worldliness, it is that of Lot. There is no
sin so insinuating, none that can hide itself under so
many fair excuses to the self-deception of the possessor, and that ends with more destructive results.
If it is the sin of God's people, it must be burned out
of them in some way; but it frequently needs a funeral
pile of all they have to effect it.
It is a great pity when a religious man is marked by
a want of generosity. Self-control and rigid attention
to our means and expenditure lie at the root both of
justice and true benevolence, and he acts no Christian
part who neglects them; but they are entirely reconcilable with a spirit above all meanness. Doing justly
is the first step to loving mercy, and the men in the
Bible who lived nearest to God were most marked by
the nobility of soul that seeks to owe no man any thing




118             A WORLDLY CHOICE,
but love. Such men were Abraham and Moses and
Paul, and if there were others, like Jacob and Lot,
who had the taint of meanness in their nature, the
providence of God set its brand on their conduct.
Few things would more commend religion to honorable
men of the world than that Christians should be found
seeking, not only what is just and pure, but what is
lovely and of good report.
Christian parents should specially be careful how
they strive for the worldly advancement of their children at the hazard of their spiritual interests. It fills
one at times with a kind of despair to see how those
who profess to regard religion as all-important, subordinate it to almost every other thing in life; how educational accomplishments, and choice of pursuits, and
friendships, and alliances, are discussed and fixed without this ever coming into serious view. Were it bodily
infection, it would fill themn with alarm, but spiritual
danger is lightly passed by. It is one great reason
why Christianity makes so little progress, and why
Christian families are constantly melting away into the
worldliness around them; while the parents have to
see their children lost, not only to vital religion, but
even to that strength of mind and steadiness of purpose which are necessary to any firm position in life.
Both worlds frequently slip from the grasp in the miserable attempt to gain the false glitter of the present,
and the bitter waters of disappointment sweep, like the
Sea of Sodom, over the ruins of fortune and fame
coveted at the cost of consistent principle. Let the
kingdom of God and his righteousness be sought and




AND ITS CONSEQUENCES.           119
maintained in the first place; if worldly position
follows, it will be honorably borne and usefully employed, and if God does not see fit to give it, there will
be sufficient compensation in the pure and imperishable treasures with which He can fill the soul.




VIII.
J%  jC{an  Entirey  $eslh?
"Then Satan answered the Lord and said, Doth _7ob fear God
for nought? " -JOB i. 9.
E shall not enter into the question of how we
are to regard the Book of Job, and especially
Axi~   this part of it, in relation to real history. Let
us only say that, believing in the personality of a great
power of evil, we hold to the general truths in the
representation here, though veiled in dramatic form.
The verse we have selected is entirely in the spirit of
him from whose mouth it comes. Goethe, in the poem
which gives his view of the world, has depicted Satan
more in accordance with what we would imagine of
the ultimate essence of evil than our own Milton has
done. His last and lowest form is not the defiant
strength of despair, but the weakness of a sneer.
His language here is a scoff cast in the face of God
against the nature of the universe He has made.
That universe, Satan insinuates, is at its heart false
and hollow. What seems most pure and beautiful is,
when you dissect it, base and vile. The man who




IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?        121
professes to serve God is, after all, only serving himself, and is making God nothing more than a convenience, a purveyor to his own selfish profit and pleasure.
Man, he suggests, is a poor hypocrite, and God is willing to be deceived by his fawning worship; for when
Satan strikes at man, it is because he thinks he thereby
reaches God.
One object of this Book of Job is to prove that
there is something genuine in man, something genuine,
above all, when the grace of God has entered his heart,
and this question of Satan's we shall seek to turn into
another - Is man entirely selfish?
Satan puts his calumny, as many people have since
done, into the form of a question. It is evident how
he intended it to be answered. God has held up-Job as
a proof of his power to put true goodness into human
nature, and the reply is that this seeming goodness is
only self-interest. The man is religious because he
makes a good thing out of it. The accuser has a belief
in the philosophy of selfishness. It is a faith not uncommon in our day. There are some who seek a
foundation for it in argument, and wish to prove that
all virtue is merely self-interest largely and wisely
interpreted, which is true in this respect, that goodness and self-interest will in the end coincide, but very
false if it is meant that goodness has its origin in taking this end inito account. There is a school of the
literature of fiction which makes it the basis of all its
portraitures of human nature, which delights to turn
man inside out, that it may show his weakness and
hollowness, and to anatomize him in his best affections
and aspirations, that it may find only self-love and




122         IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
vanity. If goodness is portrayed, it is a goodness we cannot respect, without strength or breadth; so that, with
such views of human nature, the theory of its simian
origin is quite in keeping, and contempt for'our tellowmen and ourselves becomes almost justified. Providence and prayer and Divine interposition in behalf of
such a creature become very idle talk to those who are
thoroughly imbued with this view.  The frivolous
Epicureanism of one class of them is balanced by the
bitter Cynicism of another, to whom the counsel of
Job's wife, " Curse God and die," seems the fitting end
of philosophy and of man.
We do the literature of the day no injustice when
we say that much of it has this sneer of Mephistopheles
on its face, that it ignores in man any depth beyond
self, and any height that would betoken a capacity for
the love and life of God. In general society we meet
with not a few pervaded by the same spirit, who have
a hearty distrust of all professions of religion, even of
the quietest and most unobtrusive kind, a keen eye
and strong memory for all Christian inconsistencies,
and a lurking belief, with the old courtier, that " every
man has his price." There is an age when numbers
of the young are in danger of being carried away by
this view, some from a naturally hard temperament,
some from the desire to be considered shrewd and
knowing, and some from having trusted too readily
and been deceived, falling into an opposite and sadder
extreme. The Bible itself has been quoted as sanctioning the idea that self-interest is, and ought to be, the
spring of human action. Sin, it is said, is only selfinterest unenlightened and wrongly directed, and true




IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?        123
religion is a proper and wise regard to our own happiness. The threatenings and promises both of the Old
Testament and the New are referred to as proving
this, and hell and heaven, the one as an external
punishment, the other as an objective prize, are made
the moving powers of the moral universe. It is a
subject, then, well -deserving of consideration, and
surely very practical and pressing in our time. We
shall look at it chiefly in the last light to which we
have adverted, - the estimate of man's nature to be
drawn from the Bible, —seeking to free that book
from the obloquy which has been thrown on it by its
enemies and by some of its friends. First, we shall
attempt to show that selfishness is not the scriptural
view of the proper nature of man; second, from the
context, we shall try to develop some of the results of
a belief in unmitigated selfishness; and, third, we shall
point out the means that may be adopted for a remedy
by those who are ready to fall into this melancholy
faith.
FIRST, That self-love is not the essence of human
nature as presented in the Bible.
Satan denies that there is unselfishness in Job, who
is described as a " righteous man, who feared God and
eschewed evil." He would imply that it is not in
God's power to create a disinterested love of Himself,
even in a regenerate creature, —that self-interest is
the hidden worm at the root of every thing, good or
bad.
Let us think, then, first, of the regenerate man, and
see whether God's plan of forming him proceeds on




124         IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
the principle of appealing to selfishness. That plan,
in its great lineaments, has been the same in all ages,
in the days of Job as in those of Paul, only that in
the latter time there has been a fuller development,
which enables us to understand it better. We consider
it therefore under that clearer light.
Now, it is granted that the Bible, all through, presses
men with threatenings of punishment, and holds out
to them promises of happiness to lead them to a new
life. But this is to be remembered, that it begins its
work with men who are sunk in sin, and that the
essence of sin is selfishness. It must arrest and raise
them by motives adapted to their condition, provided
that these motives are not wrong, and enlightened
self-interest, that is, self-interest which is consistent
with the good of others, is not wrong. The Bible is
too broad and human not to bring all fair motives into
exercise. It is too philosophical to lose itself in the
over-refinements of some modern philosophies which
touch fallen human nature as a needle might a coat of
mail. It has its still small voice, but it has its thunder
before it. The sleeper must be roused to listen; and
before the gospel, and even with it, we must have
Sinai's word, "The soul that sinneth it shall die."
All through, in the Old Testament and also in the
New, we have the principle, "If thou art wise, thou
shalt be wise for thyself." " Behold I have set before
thee death and life."  We have every one of us felt
the power of such appeals, and perhaps there is no
stage in the Christian life when a man is entirely away
from them. The apostle Paul was fearful " lest by any
means he himself should be a castaway." But to af



IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?       125
firm that this is the final, or even the prevailing, motive of the new life, is to mistake or misrepresent the
Bible. If I rouse a man from the stupor of an opiate
by force, and prevent him for a while from recurring
to it by fear, it is that I may have an opportunity of
going on to use reason and the persuasion of love.
By these ultimate weapons, and by the spirit which
with God's help is at last breathed into the man, my
plan is to be judged. The Bible is constantly advancing from the domain of threatening and outward
promise to that of free and unselfish love. Its strength
of appeal from the very beginning lies in the mercy
of God pardoning unconditionally, — a mercy which,
when the clouds are severed, is seen to be the face of
the Son of God and the Man of Sorrows devoting
Himself for those who had no claim on Him but that
of guilt and misery. He comes from a throne to a
cross for them, and we see written on it, "Herein is
love, not that we loved God, but that God loved us."
This love comes from a Divine fountain through a
human heart, that human hearts may feel the responsive throb, " We love Him who first loved us."
When his law is inculcated, it is not that punishment
may be escaped, but affection manifested. If heaven is
promised, it is not a conditional reward, but a free and
godlike gift; and this heaven in its essence is not a
world of external delight, but of inward joy in the love
and likeness of God, and deliverance from that sin
and tyrant self, which are now our prison and our
pain. As a man rises into the knowledge of the Divine plan he seeks and serves God, not from the hope
of what he is to receive from  Him, but from  the




126         IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
delight which he finds in Him, —in the true, the pure,
the loving that dwell in the Father of Lights, and that
in their present possession contain the pledge of eternal inheritance. If they still charge us with selfishness in seeking this, because it is our happiness, - as
some modern philosophies which claim superhuman
virtue seem to do, — we confess we know not what is
meant by the charge. We seek God and find our joy
in Him because it is in the new nature which He has
given; but we do not seek Him for the joy, we find the
joy in seeking. Would it be more unselfish to forget
God and seek sin, or coldly surrender Him and clasp
annihilation? Would they have us once obtain a
view of that blessed and gracious face which is the
sun of the universe, and then shut our eyes, not caring whether we ever open them on his light and love
again, — take one draught of the water of truth and
renounce the fountain? The Christian doctrine of
reward is, that if the universe were on one side and
God on the other, we forsake it for Him  alone, —
" Whom have I in heaven but Thee?" but to be willing
to forsake Him for extinction, and to reckon this a proof
of unselfish love, is one of the new objections against
Christianity which may be left to answer itself. It is
curious how from a very different school, that of Jonathan Edwards, a similar paradox at one time issued;
and it was held that a Christian should have such a
desire for the glory of God that he should be willing
to be condemned everlastingly if it would promote it.
The futility of such a supposition is seen when it is
put in the form of this question: " Canl a mall so love
God as to be willing, for any end, everlastingly to hate




IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?        127
Him?"  These are such unnatural issues that it
would be hard to prove God could ever propose them
to intelligent creatures, or intelligent creatures realize
them as possible, except in the over-refinement of
speculation.
To return to the line of thought: God acts towards
man on the principle of free undeserved love, that He
may form in him the spirit and image of his own
action, creating a spring of self-sacrifice which flows
back to God and overflows to men. The Son of God,
who knows what is in man, believed this possible. He
had faith in human nature as having great capabilities
and destinies. He held fast to his faith in the face of
man's own opposition and scorn, of desertion and
treachery. For this He lived and struggled and died,
and did not fail. He struck the rock with his cross,
and streams came out to freshen deserts. He made a
John, a Paul, a Peter, a Stephen -hearts that drank
of the cup of his self-sacrifice, and forgot themselves,
and labored and suffered and died like Him for the
world's good. They have had those who followed
them in the hardest and coldest times, who have kept
the fire of unselfish love burning on the world's hearth
in the deepest night. In lone spots of the earth, far
away, and far down in its misery, solitary among strangers, and strangers at home, humble and self-forgetful,
they have been taking up the lesson of the Great Master, "Freely ye have received, freely give;" and, unnoticed and unknown of the busy world, they have
been treading in his steps, to seek the lost sheep and
wretched prodigal, with no reward but the throb of joy
which fills their heart and heaven's homes when the




128         IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
wanderer returns. It is good for our own hearts to
think of it, and we bless them in our inmost soul for
the faith to which they help us, that there is a fountain of free love on high, since such wells of lovingkindness are springing here. While some are taking
up the ancient sneer that all is hollow, and human nature a contemptible and selfish thing, and while others
would bring down the glorious gospel of the blessed
God to a bargain of so much gain for so much service,
they have been calmly pursuing their way, reckoning
neither of profit nor praise, but "' counting all things
loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus
their Lord."
It is certain, then, that the Bible proceeds on the
principle of creating unselfish action in the regenerate
heart. But we have this farther to remark, that, even
in the case of unregenerate men, the Bible does not
affirm that the only law at work is one of utter selfishness. It is true that the whole Bible scheme is based
on the doctrine of the fall and depravity of human nature. Man is corroded to the core by sin, and needs a
reconstruction which is described as a new creation.
But it must be remembered that the elements of human nature are still there. They are not annihilated,
neither are they demonized. The deep radical defect
is God-ward, that man has by nature ceased to retain
Him in his knowledge, and has expelled his love from
his heart. But the temple, though shattered and empty
of its divinity, has the fragments of its original greatness strewed around. The tree, though uprooted, continues to send forth shoots and blossoms from the
lingering of the original sap which God does not suffer




IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?       129
yet to die. If God continue permanently excluded,
die it must; but, while the world remains, there shines
many a fair tint on human nature, as there streams a
fading beauty from the sun upward on the sky he has
left. Whatever unrenewed men may be to God, - alas,.'ow cold and ungrateful - they perform to their fellow-men, oftentimes, the most unselfish acts. They give
hoping to receive nothing again. They relieve suffering, they extend sympathy to the poor and naked,
they labor perseveringly and unostentatiously, and frequently shame those who call themselves Christians in
their promptness and generosity. The Bible, which is
a broad and candid book, so different from the narrowness of many of its opponents and of not a few of its
friends, delights to recognize this, and records the genuine and the kindly in unrenewed men. Over against
Abraham, sometimes in contrast with him, stands the
courteous generosity of Ephron the Hittite and the candor of Abimelech. Naaman the Syrian is brought in
from the Gentile world, and we have glimpses into his
bearing to home and friends which tell us of a true
and noble human heart. " The barbarians," the shipwrecked apostle says, " showed us no little kindness;"
and Roman centurions pursued a course of strict integrity and tender care toward him which rebuked those
who professed to deal with him according to the Word
of God. There was a young man who came to Christ,
of whom it is said that " looking on him, Jesus loved
him." There was in him, notwithstanding the fatal
defect, something so amiable and truthful; and our
own experience tells us of not a few on whom we have
looked with wistful regret, that they should have all
9




130         IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
the setting of fairest human jewels, of loveliness and
grace, while in the centre, the absence of the one thing
needful, the pearl of price, revealed a profound and irreparable blank. The Bible view of man is sad enough,
- without God in the world, wanting that hold of Him
which is necessary to give the beauty that remains
principle and permanence, unable in his kindness to
his fellow-man to do him the deepest kindness, and " to
care for his soul," averse to send the roots of his affections, or to turn the thoughts of others to the eternal
and unseen; but let us thank God that He has not left
human nature without gleams of his own kindness still
reflected from it, that even in its ruin He has made it
something not to be scoffed at and scorned, but to be
regarded reverently, compassionately, and hopefully,
as that which retains the glimmering relics of a primeval glory, and the tokens of what, through the grace
of God, may be renewal to a loftier height. Neither
let us think that we discredit the gospel, by seeming to
leave these fair features of humanity outside its regenerating circle, but let us rather widen that circle to
embrace them, and believe that, if there is any thing
glorious upon earth, or beautiful in humanity, we owe
it to the power of Christ's death and the breath of his
intercession. If the tree is there, with its leaves and
blossoms, but wanting fruit, so attractive in its fairness, so saddening in its defect, it is his prayer which
keeps it living, " Let it alone." All that is good on
earth is also ours to rejoice in, and we claim it for God,
not only as made by Him in creation, but as spared
through the grace of Him who is fairer than the children of men, and who works and waits and wearies




IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?         131
not, that He may include all beautiful things in the
innermost circle of his redeemed.
Christianity, then, while it is far removed from that
shallow view of man which sees little or nothing wrong
in his constitution and relation to God, is equally distant from that sceptical and bitter estimate which professes to analyze his nature, - to find no more than a
mixture of vanity and selfishness.
SECOND, We have to show from the context the results
of a belief in unmitigated selfishness. We shall take the
character of the accusing spirit here for an illustration
of these results.
The first evident consequence in him who holds it is
a want of due regard for his fellow-creatures. This is a
faint enough way of putting it, so far as Satan is concerned, the spirit that moves through the world, deceiving and destroying, of whom Christ has said, " He was
a murderer from the beginning, and abode not in the
truth, because there is no truth in him." With no
belief in principle or goodness, he can cherish no reverence and feel no pity. All may be treated remorselessly where all are so contemptible. The belief and
the moral nature must in the end come into harmony;
and where a spirit sets itself only to doubt and deny,
it sets itself also to tempt and seduce. It must prove
its own theory valid. Hence, probably, what otherwise
seems insanity — the temptation of the son of God, in
whom there was no shade of sin. The mocking and
sceptical spirit, which feels nothing but hollowness
within, sees nothing else around and above it, and believes it possible to drag all that seems to be higher
down to its own level.




132         IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
And in so far as such a view of human nature enters
into any man, it must produce like results. It may
have much to counteract it, in a natural kindliness of
heart, but it must always stand between the man and
a deep genuine love for his race. In the mildest form,
it can only scatter round temporary benefits with a
cynical compassion, as we do among creatures which
suffer a little, to perish and pass away for ever. In
colder natures it becomes selfish indifference; in the
more energetic, misanthropy; and in the vicious, it is
the spirit of seduction without compunction or remorse.
If ever we are to labor truly for the highest good of our
fellow-creatures, we must learn to take reverent and
loving views of them. The deeper and higher our estimate of the soul of man, the more shall we be filled
with the pity and awe that are the strength of persevering labor in its behalf; and the more shall we share
the mind and help the work of Him, who, knowing the
soul's value, died for its eternal good.
The next consequence to the spirit which has no belief in unselfishness is the want of any centre of rest
within itself. The condition of Satan is thus described,
verse 7: "And the Lord said unto Satan, Whence
comest thou? Then Satan answered the Lord, and
said, From going to and fro in the earth, and from
walking up and down in it." Incessant wandering,
" going about," " seeking rest and finding none," is the
view given of him in Scripture. There is the constant
endeavor to find a fixed point, and inability to discover
it; and this may be the truth intended to be conveyed
in that strange but significant narrative (Matt. viii.
28), where the evil spirit is urged from place to place




IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?         133
by the conquering power of good, till it is driven to
beg for a refuge in the lowest and most grovelling
forms of creation, — to find itself, even here too, rejected, and cast forth naked and shelterless. This is
most certain, that if the heart does not give quiet, no
place in the universe can, and the personal head of evil
has been for ages making the attempt to find that quiet
in vain.
And in the proportion in which a man partakes of
this view, comfort must flee from him. It is love alone
that can give the heart any place of repose. This is
the ark it turns to when wearied with fluttering over a
shoreless sea. But there can be no ark where the
world is believed to be in its essence false and hollow;
where pleasant courtesies are flowers that clasp across
and cover fathomless gulfs; where friendships last as
long as there is mutual benefit, and are chilled to frost
by a few years' absence. The man who believes this,
and yet yearns after true and deep affection, is wretched
indeed, —pining for a treasure not to be found in the
universe; and if he does not yearn after it he is more
wretched still. Can the man be satisfied who does not
find in the whole world a place where he can trust his
heart? Nay, more, such a man, if he reflects, must turn
round and loathe himself. He cannot have the vanity to
believe that he is the only exception to the rule of selfishness. The nature he sees in others is his own, and,
do what he may, he cannot escape from it, or rise above
it. Analyze every thing, analyze his own best feelings,
and he comes at last only to self - refined, it may be,
sublimated to the most ethereal essence, but ever self,
and nothing more. Can there be a more frightful sol:




134         IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
itude than this, — to be convinced that no perfectly
disinterested love can ever pass from any heart over
into his, and, what is worse, that none can pass from
his over into any other?  Can there be a more ghastly
universe than one where, under every damask rose,
this hideous worm is lurking, and where the boast of
the advanced philosophy is to discover that it is inevitable? Worse, is it not, than the old Northern legend
of the snake that coils its scaly folds round the roots
of the tree of life? If such men live, and live without
betraying their pain, it must be because they drown the
thought in occupation, or have resigned themselves to
a settled despair, or contrive, with that curious inconsistency which belongs to us all, to live above, as some
others live below, their theory.
There is still another effect to be remarked of this
want of belief in unselfishness - the failure of any real
hold on a God. It was so with the great spirit of evil.
He could not deny God's existence. This was too
plainly forced in upon him and felt by him, but he had
no just views of a God of truth and purity and goodness, else he had never continued so to resist Him.
He had a belief that made him tremble, but that never
stirred him up to lay hold on God, because he saw
only heartless power seated on the throne of the universe. It is within the sphere of every spirit to make
and maintain its own world and its own God, and the
God it makes bears the character of its world.
Ill as far, too, as any man comes to look upon all
human nature as mean and selfish, he is on the way to
lose faith in God's true character, and even in his existence. To perceive and feel genuine goodness in man




IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?        135
is to be prepared to believe in God, - for whence could
this come but from the Father of lights? If any one
has arrived at the conviction that there is such a thing
as disinterested self-sacrificing love in the world, he
must surely feel that this is the product of something
more than dead matter. Refined matter may give refined self-love, but never self-sacrifice. This is the glorious attribute of spirit, the reflected ray of the Divine,
and may lead us up to God, as the colors of the earth,
in field and flower, lead our eyes to the fountain of life.
When the people saw Christ's miracles " they praised
God who gave such power to man;" and much more
may we when we see truth and mercy and self-devotion
in men, for these are greater than all miracles, and
have the very essence of God in them. Therefore we
are bound to thank Him for every disinterested act
performed by any man, for every generous and heroic
deed, for the search after truth, simply because it is
truth, by those great minds that seek her as hid treasure, for unpaid devotion to the cause of suffering and
want, for the blessed feet that seek out shame and sin,
and the lips that plead with them to bring them home
contrite and forgiven. These are all testimonies to
the greatness of the soul of man, and therefore to the
being of God. Those footsteps are echoes of the feet
of Him who went about doing good, and help us to
believe that He once walked our earth.
For this reason also we cannot think the love to any
human friend can be too great if it does not keep the
soul from looking upward, nor any sorrow for bereavement too deep if it does not sink into despair of God.
We take pleasure in the measureless affections, even in




136         IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
the fathomless griefs of the spirit, because they assure
us of Him who made it, and for what it is made, and
tell us of an Infinite that can heal all wounds and fill
up all yearning desires. But if a man beholds no
light reflected round him, can he see light dawning
anywhere? If he can find only self-love in man, well
directed it may be, fairly concealed or beautifully
refined, but still self-love and nothing more, what God
would He be who has either not the power or not the
will to make a creature of a nobler kind?  What
comfort would there be in a sun which rays off its
beams into the unreflecting and eternal dark, a life
which beats with all its tide of love against the walls of
everlasting sepulchres?  The man who has come to
take this view of the universe would ere long extend it
to the great God himself, and think of Him as altogether like his world, or cease to hold his existence as
a thing of price.
It is so, then, that a man fills the worla beyond the
skies with the properties of the world he sees around
and feels within him. As he comes to know and be
sure that there is more than dead matter or barren
self, that there are disinterested love and unbought
sympathy and boundless longings which spurn the
false and soar above the finite, he becomes convinced
that the source of them all must be in an infinite
Spirit, and the end of them in an eternal life. What
comes from Him must go back to Him again, according
to its kind - that which is clothed with outward beauty
to be changed as a vesture and again unfolded, that
which feels the pulsations of his own life to be taken
home to his heart and satisfied with his likeness.




IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?        137
And therefore it is that every one who values the
highest interests of his race must look with deep pity
upon the efforts of many whose chief aim it seems to
be to depreciate humanity, and to show their ingenuity only by repeating, in every varied form, the old
question of the mocking spirit, " Doth Job fear God
for nought? " There is a literature which makes it its
pleasure to depict affection that it may trace its slow
decline, and to analyze human nature that it may
exhibit its meanness, which when it paints goodness
gives us the superficial gilding of a paltry amiability,
and puts heart after heart into its crucible that it may
reduce all to dross. It passes with many for deep
knowledge of the world, and finds its refrain from
some worn-out men of pleasure who repeat " vanity of
vanities " with another aim than the "' Preacher," and
from some younger men who affect the worn-out style
as lending them, at an easy price, the air of insight
and old experience. After all, it is a shallow philosophy, and unhappy as shallow, which degrades human
nature and casts doubt on the Divine, and leaves us to
infer that dust and ashes are all that is.
THIRD, We shall pass on to consider some means that
may be adopted as a remedy by those who are in danger
of falling into this faith.
If we wish to strengthen our conviction in reality
and unselfishness, we should seek as much as possible
to bring our own life into close contact with what is
genuine in our fellow-men. We cannot help measuring
the great world by the little world of our experience,
and we have the choice of this so far in our company
and our friendships. Whatever books may do for us,




138         IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
our nature cannot be right and healthy without intercourse with living hearts, and the more intimate it is
with what is best there, the safer we shall be from
these degrading views. We shall always have means
at hand by which to disprove them. There is little
doubt that Rochefoucauld and Chesterfield took their
view of life from what came under the courtier's eye,
neither the true nor favorable way of understanding
it. Had they been able to come close to a different
class, to those who need the cup of cold water without
importuning it, and to those who bestow it in the
name of Christ, to the friendship and the affection which
give proof of their genuineness in having no favor to
ask and much love to render, it might have modified
their opinion. We know of few things better for those
who are ready to lose their perception of the real in
the midst of the masks of conventionalism than to
cultivate some acquaintance with the humble Godfearing poor, and to study the offices which want
renders to want, together with the work which
Christian mercy is carrying on there in its own quiet,
unwearied way. In our friendships let us withdraw
from those who love the false and artificial, and cleave
to those who are striving to base their life on truth
and principle, and, in our own conduct, let us beware
of having a pretence and profession beyond what we
really are. Many men, without being hypocrites at
heart, surround themselves with an atmosphere of insincerity in the intercourse of life which destroys to
that extent their faith in the reality of others. Let us
not pretend to more than we have and are. Those
who have homes should specially seek to keep them




IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?       139
free from every thing that is false. To accustom the
young to the view of double dealing in those whom
God has taught them first to revere is to sap the
foundation of all faith. That God set the "solitary
in families," that He made a world with a father and
mother, with brothers and sisters in it, and caused
such pure affection to well up from these fountains, is
his way of helping us to believe in genuine love. And
yet it may be remarked here that while a home and
children were intended to make men believers in unselfishness, some men may use them so that selfishness
may grow. They may be made a more subtle means
for the exercise of vanity and egotism. They should
not close the door of the heart to the outside world,
but open it more widely. If so used and filled with
truth and pure affection, the family may be made the
best of human agencies for destroying the unhappy
distrust in all reality. Happy is the man who, when
the outer streams become turbid, " can drink waters
out of his own cistern, and running waters out of his
own well;" and happy next is he who, when transparency seems to meet him no more in his later
course, has such a fountain of purity to look back
upon in an early home.
Next to the cultivation of society and friendships
among living men, we may mention the choice of books.
These do not come so close as living men, but they
open up a wider field. There is a literature of the day,
to which we have already made reference, which spends
its strength in reproducing the faults and foibles of
human nature, and which boasts of being thorough
when it lays bare sores and anatomizes gangrenes.




140          IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
That these are found in man, and found too often, is
true; but to present them as the portraiture of humanity is not less defective in real art than false in morals.
It vaunts itself to be a picture of the world pierced to
the core, and, perhaps, as far as its knowledge goes, it
is a picture of a certain world - the world of clubs and
coteries and conventionalisms, which are as much the
real world as the shallow eddies, which whirl straxws
and leaves, represent the deep current that sweeps beyond. If we glance at such views of human nature,
since these too are part of man, let us not live in them.
There are other and truer painters, whether it be in
the strong outlines of fact or the colors of what is
called fiction; and fiction, if just, is no more than ideal
fact. There are the pages of history which present the
men who have thirsted for truth as for the water of
immortality, who have labored for man's good with
unpurchased and unpurchasable fervor, and died for
God's cause with the triumph of heaven on their face.
There are the true poets of life, who, while in their own
genius they show the compass of humanity, reveal in
their works the profound abysmal struggles of the soul
and its sun-lit peaks of joy. Our literature from Spenser down to Wordsworth - we name only the mighty
dead - has its full share of those with whom we may
speak with profit regarding the deep heart of man.
Nor can we surely forget that Book of books which
knows more than any of them what is in man, and
which has imparted to them all light and freshness.
If we take the Bible into the range of literature merely
as a human book, and forget for the moment that it
comes from God, there is enough in it to lift up our




IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?       141
view of man to the verge of the infinite world. Though
it made nothing known to us of God, yet it reveals man
in the grandeur of his imagination and force of his soul,
in the depth of his misery that he sees the sublimest
moral ideal and feels himself cut off from it, that he
has the loftiest aspirations after the infinite, and a
never-ending pain because he cannot reach them. If
a man will only deal more with these views of human
nature given by the masters of human thought, he will
not be so easily carried away by the pretensions of those
who dissect it to find only superficiality; and unless
he has some previous theory which perverts him, or
some unhappy temperament which warps his judgment, he will surely be led to infer that the being
whose wants and wishes, whose inarticulate longings
and conscious aims, are always rising, in some way,
above the seen and limited, was made for a higher
sphere, and had an original breath of the Divine within
him.
Another counsel which may be connected with this
is, that in judging of humanity we must beware of taking
a part ftr the whole. It should be remembered that
the unselfish theory is proved if we can show that
there is any portion of human nature possessed of disinterested love, for the capacity is thereby proved in
all. But the selfish theory can be maintained only by
proving that all are selfish without exception. The
most common way of doing this is to take a few as
specimens, and assert that these represent the whole.
We must consider, then, that it is quite possible for
some to deceive and others to remain true, and that
the discovery of occasional hypocrites does not make




142         IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
all religion a pretence. If there were no reality, there
could be no counterfeit. When hypocrites do startle
us where we little expected them, our hearts must
learn to fall back on the sincere who have fully approved themselves, the guileless and the good on whose
foreheads the God of Truth has written his name in
life and death - the beloved on earth and the blessed
in heaven. Moreover, even where all seems frivolous,
if we could only see the whole, we might discover that
there was often more than met the eye, and that those
who profess to be depicting human nature in the conventional world merely show us the surface and the
smaller part. Beneath the inane features of fashion,
and the petty hopes and fears and struggles of the
hour, there are frequently deep questionings of the soul
which rise for a moment, suppressed groans of the
spirit at the felt emptiness around it, handwritings
shooting out of the dark to make the heart fail in the
midst of feasts; and he who has not gone down to this,
who has not ascertained that in every spirit below the
hall where Herod sits in seeming ease and pleasure,
there is in the dungeon a John whose thought rises up
to tell of a time when it was better with the soul, and
to pour bitter into every sweet at the recollection,the man who has not realized this may profess to know
and paint the world, but he has touched only the edge
and surface - he knows not man's deepest misery, and
cannot measure his real greatness. Let us, then, when
we hear or read these cynical estimates of humanity,
commune with our own souls, and ask if this is all
that is in man? and let us believe that there is in every
one of our kind, while earth holds him, a heart which




IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?         143
has its own bitterness, and which in some way, however
faint, responds to the true tone when it is struck. It
may be a passing thrill, but it is there to prove that
man is not all of clay.
The last means we shall mention for removing the
view that man is incapable of rising above self is, to
apprehend the Divine curefor human nature. We mention it last, not because this is the order in which it
should be taken, but because it fitly concludes all other
means as the most important, so indispensable that
every other, without it, can be but a temporary palliative. Human nature, we have said, is deeply, fatally
diseased, but not yet cut off from all connection with
God, nor deprived of all traces of its original dignity.
He bestowed on it this among the first, that it can give
love without the thought of self. Now the cure which
God has provided, while it reveals the depth of man's
ruin, has in it also a token of the greatness of man's
nature. It is God giving himself for man's deliverance, a free, unbought love, which devotes itself to
suffering and death, that it may awaken a response in
the sinful heart, and recall the sinner to the Father's
arms, when he knows that all has been atoned for,
and that the past of guilt is ready to be forgiven and
forgotten forever. It reveals to us the nature of God,
but does it not also reveal to us something of the nature
of man? It does, for manl's nature must be capable
of appreciating free, unselfish love, if it is to return it;
and, though the Holy Spirit is needed to carry home
that appreciation, the Spirit works not against the law
of man's original nature, but in conformity with it.
The gospel, then, of free, unbought love is adapted to




144         IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
the constitution of man, fitted to win his admiration
and attract his spontaneous gratitude.
This, too, is to be marked, that the free, unbought
love, so sublime in self-devotion, so magnanimous in
overflowing gifts, enters the world through a human
channel. It is in the humanity of Christ that the great
God opens up this fountain of grace, —a humanity
sinless and spotless, indeed, but still a humanity that
is real, and all our own. This is, certainly, God's most
royal seal set upon human nature, that He found it not
unfit to be taken into the most intimate union with
Himself, and that He chose to pour the infinite love of
Divinity upon a dying world through the heart of man.
The question, Is man capable of unselfish love? can
now be answered by this other, Was there unselfish
love in Christ? for in all things, sin excepted, He was
made like unto his brethren, and in all things they can
be made like Him. He who has studied the person of
Christ, and laid his hand, however feebly, on the throbbings of that heart, will not be in danger of the view
that self-love, utter and eternal, is part of the nature
of man.
We are well aware that, with those who have
adopted thoroughly this view of human nature, the
argument from a Divine cure, such as the gospel
reveals, will have little weight. But let us say that,
for this part of it, we do not even care though the
divinity of the gospel be denied, and the incarnation
of God in Christ be declared a fiction, and the Person of the man of infinite love and infinite sorrow,
be blotted out of the book of human life. The world
might indeed wrap itself in a blacker pall than that




IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?        145
which ushered in his death, and the earth feel stranger
pangs, and poor humanity, " beholding the things that
were done, might smite its breast and return." But
still, whence came this glorious vision of the God-man,
and of free, atoning love unto the death, this vision
which has ravished men's hearts in every age, and
bowed down their souls in ecstasies of wonder and
awe?  How came it to establish its place in mall's
spirit, and to set up its throne in man's world? Christ
himself may be denied, but the grand thought, the
god-like vision of a Christ, this still remains, and a
thought, whatever men may say, is a distinct reality.
If it came not from God, it must have had its origin in
the heart of humanity, and this heart must be capable
of creating an ideal of infinite love and sympathy
which our deepest nature pronounces to be worthy of
God. It would still be a testimony to the unselfish
nature of man that it could form such an ideal, and
struggle on through many generations to realize it.
That a being with such a nature should be left uncared
for by God, or, even if there were no God, that he
should be cast up by the constitution of the universe
to perish and pass away forever, with infinite moral
yearnings unappeased, and infinite spiritual hopes unrealized, would make that universe a falsehood and a
mockery in its highest promise -" its root rottenness,
and its blossom as the dust." And, therefore, from the
greatness of man's nature, in the conception of a
Christ, we can reason back to the reality of Christ's
person and work, and feel assured that there must be
a God of love, and such an interposition of mercy as
the gospel reveals.
10




146         IS MAN ENTIRELY SELFISH?
And now, to draw closer to this Son of God evermore, and to feel the tide of life that comes from Him,
pouring with fuller flood around and through us, to
have Him in our heart and eye, and to follow in his
steps of free, unselfish love to God and man, to be true
and transparent as He was, saying the thing that is,
and doing the thing that should be, to struggle towards
this mark where we do not reach it, and send after it,
from every fall, more earnest aim and effort: this, with
the help of God, will deliver us front the bitter scoff
that all the world is hollow, and man, at his best, a
vain and frivolous thing. The grovelling and the
false will sink away beneath our feet, and we shall rise
to that hold of God which gives his own unassailable
peace within, and to that calm, though it may be sad,
look on a fallen world and on poor tossing humanity,
as still in his hand, and as destined to work out his
purposes of free and everlasting grace.




IX.
i far from   t     tnd1om  of jd.
"And when yesus saw that he answered discreetly, He said
unto him, Thou art not far from the kingdom of God." — MARK
xll. 34.' F these had not been the words of Jesus Christ,
there would probably have been some Christians found strongly objecting to them. They
would have said, "No one is nearer to the kingdom
of God than another, for all men are alike dead in
trespasses and sins.  How can there be degrees of
nearness when every one is at an infinite distance? "
There is a side of truth in this. The difference between Christian and not-Christian is one not of degree
but of kind. " Once ye were darkness, but now are
ye light in the Lord."  And yet there are different degrees of approximation to the light.  Our world is
closer to the edge of dawn in one part of its course
than another. The blind men who, whether through
God's providence or their own choice, took their seat
by the wayside at Jericho, were nearer receiving their




148            NOT FAR FROM THE
sight than they had ever been in their lives before, and
nearer still when their ear was caught by the tread of
the multitude and they began to cry on Jesus of Nazareth as he passed by. And there are circumstances
and associations in life that still bring some men
closer to the gospel than others. There are dispositions of mind and attitudes in certain persons toward
it which make us very anxious that they should take
but one decided step, which cause us to wonder why,
when they are so near, they go no further.  They
speak so discreetly about religious things, and have so
amiable and reverent a spirit, that we feel as if Christ
would still single them out, as He did this scribe, and
say tenderly, regretfully, may we not add hopefully? -
" Thou art not far from the kingdom of God."  We
have to consider here some of those things which
bring a man near the kingdom, and next what is
needed to make him decidedly within it.
I. SOME OF THOSE THINGS WHICH BRING A MAN
NEAR THE KINGDOM OF GOD. It would lead us away
from the subject of discourse if we were to attempt
any description of what is meant by this kingdom.
Enough for our present purpose will come out in the
course of illustration. It would also lead us into too
wide a field if we took all the things that bring a man
near it. We shall keep within limits by using the
present incident as our guide.
It may be said that those are not far from it whose
life brings them into connection with some of its members
and privileges. The scribe here addressed had looked
on the person of Christ, listened to his teaching, and




KINGDOM OF GOD.             149
was in all likelihood acquainted with some of his disciples. He was one of those who will be able to say
at last, " Thou hast taught in our streets." There
was no reason apparent why he should not enter the
gate of the kingdom as well as others. It was as near
to him, he was as welcome, and men in no way different from himself were touching him and pressing on
him as they passed by into the door. There is not one
of us of whom similar things may not be said. We
have had the fullest opportunity of becoming acquainted
with all the truth of the gospel of God, with the life
and death of the Saviour of men, and with their bearing on our own sin and death and eternal life. There
it meets us whenever we open the Bible, and here it is
echoed and re-echoed in the preaching of the Word.
It may be said of every one of us that we have known
numbers who have given the strongest evidence that
they were the true disciples of Christ, in a holy and
humble walk, in a happy and Christian death. Perhaps
some of these may have been among our nearest and
dearest friends. Does not this bring us near to the
kingdom of God both on earth and in heaven? It
may be we have been cognizant of the very change
which gave the new and higher direction to their life.
We have witnessed the deepening earnestness of their
character, and seen it growing up into a purpose and
consistency unknown before. Strange thoughts have
come over us and a thrill has gone through our heart
as we felt the difference, as if the very breeze of the
Spirit's influence were stirring and soliciting us in
passing by. It is a very solemn thing for a man to be
placed in these circumstances, to be so close on the




150             NOT FAR FROM THE
verge of the kingdom of God as to feel the breath of
its power moving round him. Others beside him,
touching him by kindred and blood, are pressing past
him, across the boundary line which is the beginning
of a new and Divine domain, and he remains where he
was. What prevents the step in him? Nothing that
we can see - certainly nothing in God's willingness to
receive or Christ's full invitation to him to come. The
word is very nigh him, and he himself must feel that
he is not far from the kingdom of God.
Leaving outward circumstances, we may come to
natural dispositions, and here too we shall see that
there are some things which bring a man nearer the
reception of the gospel than others. If there seems to
be inequality for the present in this, God will give it
full weight in the day of judgment. Meanwhile, we
have right to use it as a ground of appeal to cultivate the favorable state of mind and to press it to a
decision.
A man is not far from the kingdom of God when he
shows a spirit of reverence and candor towards Christ.
The fair and respectful bearing of this scribe is very
marked. He is impressed by our Lord's character and
by the importance of the truth laid down by Him, and
there is an entire absence of the frivolity and captiousness which belonged to so many of his class. Few
things short of positive immorality make a man more
incapable of appreciating spiritual truth than the confirmed habit of treating every thing lightly, and of looking at it only on its amusing side. It is not well to
indulge this overmuch on any subject, and we should
be very careful how we apply it to what concerns God




KINGDOM OF GOD.              151
and the soul. It is an aptitude which is easily learned,
for to scoff is in the power of any understanding however weak. When it is learned it makes the understanding weaker, for it destroys the ability to deal
with the most momentous subjects in a truthful way.
When there is a want of reverence there cannot well
be candor. The spirit of mockery naturally turns not
to the strong points of a subject, but to its weak ones,
and is ready to exaggerate or to invent them. There
is always therefore a hopeful token in a character when
we find that, whatever light playfulness may flicker
over the surface, there is a solid basis beneath, where
some things in life are felt to be no matter of jest.
Among these surely are those which deal with God and
the eternal life. It may be that even the men who
pass them by most lightly, to make a laugh or to escape one, have their earnest moments about them, but
certainly he is the manlier who can stand out against
this poorest of all hypocrisies, and who is not ashamed
to show that there are some matters too sacred to be
sported with. That man also, if not already Christian,
is nearer to Christianity, and the presence of this reverent spirit is reason for hoping that he may reach it.
Another feature which brings a man closer to the
gospel is kindliness and amiability of nature. We cannot think of the scribe here without being reminded
of that young man spoken of in a preceding chapter
of this Gospel (x. 17), -who was so full of natural
beauty of disposition that it is said, " Jesus, beholding
him, loved him."  We have all of us met with such,
with persons who had a perfection of human grace and
attractiveness about them, like the fragrance of a




152             NOT FAR FROM THE
flower that comes without consciousness or effort. It
has frequently a more rounded fulness and ease than
is to be found in the higher Christian life, where the
struggle after the nobler ideal and the pain of repeated
failure leave their scars and shadows. What are we
to say of such kindliness and grace? Are we to frown
on them as evil, or turn from them with cold indifference? We cannot think so. The Lord Jesus Christ,
who had an eye for all that is fair in God's creation,
did not cast a chilling look on any thing that is beautiful in human nature. He acknowledged it as good so
far as it went, and sought to gain it for the divine and
eternal. It would be strange if that gospel which
delights in those things that are pure and lovely and
of good report, which has Him for its Head who had
all meekness and gentleness, should feel itself less
likely to be welcomed by what is naturally amiable.
If hardness and moroseness are found in connection
with the Christian name, they have no true connection
with the Christian spirit, and we do feel that all the
kindly and generous impulses of the heart move in
the same direction with some of the finest graces of the
kingdom of God. They are wild flowers of nature
that with the enclosure of Christ's garden and the
hand of Divine culture would put on a rare beauty.
The sight of them makes us long to see them in the
only safe soil, and they have an affinity for it which
brings them near.
Another favorable feature in a mall is when he is
desirous of conforming to God's law as far as he knows
it. This too seems to have existed in the character of
the scribe, and he resembled in this also the young




KINGDOM OF GOD.              153
ruler who had striven to observe the commandments
of God from his youth up. To suppose as some do
that they were false pretenders is to rob these cases of
their deep spiritual import, and to make our Lord
blinded by their hypocrisy. They were no doubt sincere in their profession, and this endeavor to lead a
pure and moral life up to one's light is not to be scornfully denounced as is sometimes done. The gospel is
bright enough without pouring equal blackness on all
that lies outside it. It is indeed a blessed truth that
the gospel comes to the chief of sinners, to the most
profligate and debased, with the offer of free pardon
and return to purity, and it is true also that there is a
proud formal pharisaism which puts a man further
from the kingdom than are the openly wicked. It was
this hard self-righteousness which Christ so strongly
condemned. But this also is truth, that if a man is
going on in known sin he is searing his conscience,
hardening his heart, and building up obstacles against
his return to God. Be very sure of this, that all the
way has to be travelled back, and that downward
slopes of iniquity are hard to climb again. If conscience be at work in any man, if it is keeping him from
doing what he believes to be sin, and leading him to
aim at the true and right, he is to be commended.
And if there be any measure of humility and charity
with it, that man is certainly nearer the kingdom of
God than he who is going on in trespasses. The general character of our Lord's own disciples was not that
of men who had been wallowing in the depths of wickedness, and it is traducing the free grace of the gospel
to speak as if vice were the most fitting qualification




154             NOT FAR FROM THE
for it. Wherever conscience is awake and earnestly
endeavoring to do and be what is right up to its knowledge, it is coming nearer to God's kingdom, for that
kingdom, like charity, rejoices not in iniquity, but in
the truth.
The last hopeful feature we mention is an interest in
the spiritual side of things. This scribe was a man who
had felt the importance of the great questions that concern God and the human soul. He had listened with
pleasure to our Lord's reasoning regarding immortality, and this reasoning was founded on a deep
spiritual basis. He put questions on his own account,
and added his personal experience to the answers ain
such a way as shows him to have been a thoughtful
man who looked beyond religion as a thing of ceremonial, and who saw that it had to do with the heart and
the inmost life. He had conceived an admiration for
the person of Christ, and publicly owns it in a manner
which impresses us with a sense of his transparency
and courage. When we meet with such a man, though
not avowedly Christian, there is something very hopeful in him. We meet with so much indifference and
materialism that it is refreshing to light upon one who
rises above such a chilling element, and who gives
evidence that he believes there is a God, and a soul,
and a spiritual law laid down for man's guidance - to
see him not only listening but putting intelligent
questions, and avowing with honest conviction how far
he goes, though it may not be so far as we desire.
The Saviour recognized it with satisfaction, and it is
our part to do the same. We may not find all these
features in the same person, but where we find even




KINGDOM OF GOD.             155
one we should be thankful for and should encourage
it. The gospel of Christ attaches itself to all that is
best in human feeling and conscience, and makes its
appeal to it. What is not against us here is with us,
and if we meet it in a kindly, candid spirit, we may
win it to the kingdom of Him whose heart yearns over
the most distant wanderers, but who cherishes a peculiar interest in those whose souls are feeling their way,
however faintly, to the eternally true and good.
II. We come now to consider WHAT IS NEEDED TO
MAKE A MAN DECIDEDLY BELONG TO THE KINGDOM OF
GOD. Our Lord's words imply that, with all that is
favorable in this man, there is still something wanting.
Christ had that divine insight which let Him see into
the hearts of men, as well as into the heart of things,
and which enabled Him to range them in their true
place. We have neither the power nor the right
thus to judge the inward nature of men. So far we
may go in laying down the outward characteristics of
those who are consistent members of his kingdom, but
the more we refrain from unfavorable decisions on the
eternal destiny of individuals the better. It is always
right for us, however, to look as far as we can into the
heart of things, and to use the principles we learn
-there for ascertaining our own true position, whether
ill God's kingdom or not.
We have employed the case of the scribe to illustrate
the features that bring a man near the kingdom, and
now we may seek to discover from him what is still
lacking.
This strikes us, first of all, that in what he says




156             NOT FAR FROM THE
there is no apparent perception of the evil of sin, and
no application for pardon and help. He perceives the
claim of God's law, and admits it to be spiritual; but,
so far as we can see, there is no conviction of that
hopeless violation of it which can be met only by
a Divine deliverer like Christ.
Then there is this, next, that, while he admires
Christ's teaching, he speaks as one might to another
on his own level: "Well, Master, thou hast said the
truth; " but there is no appearance of his soul
bowing before Him as a teacher sent from God, still
less of his being ready to follow Him as his spiritual
leader, and to cast in his lot with Him, to walk in his
steps and do his will.
Now these two defects point out very clearly the
two things that make a man a member of the kingdom
of God. The first requisite, and one insisted on by
Christ himself, is the new birth (John iii. 3): " Except
a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of
God." When we look at this condition of entrance,
as described in this chapter of John's Gospel, we
perceive that its essence consists in a man being made
to feel that the old natural life, however he may struggle in it, can never set him right with God. Whether
he has been pursuing a course of sin and thoughtless
folly, or has been striving to achieve, in all sincerity,
a pure moral character, there comes a wakening up of
conscience which shows him the gulf between what he
should be and what he really is- a deep, hopeless
gulf to all natural effort. When, under this conviction, he casts himself on the divine mercy as presented
in Christ, the lifting up of the Son of Man by the




KINGDOM OF GOD.             157
Father, that whosoever believeth in Him should not
perish, the new birth begins, and he enters the kingdom of God. The change may be sudden or it may be
slow, so slow as to be imperceptible at the time to himself or others; but such a change there must be, if any
one is to pass this line. The great centre of determination is, the view a man takes of sin. When he is
brought to see its evil in the sight of God, to feel his
helpless position under it, and to put himself into the
hand of God for cure, as God has made his own way
of cure known, he has become a Christian. It is the
passing from the natural and earthly life over into
the supernatural and heavenly. This supernatural
life is as truly in the world as when Christ was in it,
although the outward miraculous signs which surrounded his personal presence are gone. Whenever a
soul is brought into this new sense and view of things,
it is by the direct power of the Spirit of God. Strong
as the tempest, or soft as the breeze, shattering proud
thoughts at a blow, or gently opening a new world, as
in the breath of spring, day by day, it is the movement of that Spirit which comes and goes as it lists,
and makes known its presence only in its work.
The other requisite is the new life. It is the natural
and necessary outflow of the new birth. Wherever
the birth is, the life will, more or less, follow, and
wherever the new life shows itself the new birth must,
in some way, have preceded it. If there be the view
of sin we have spoken of, there comes with it what is
termed a new nature - a higher principle of thought
and feeling and action in the soul. Repentance is the
look which such a man casts backward; contrition




158             NOT FAR FROM THE
is the turning of his eye within, and the setting of his
life upon a new basis, or what is termed sanctification, is
his aim as he looks forward. Humility and self-distrust, and dependence on God, and endeavor after an
obedience not of the letter but of the spirit, and not
of fear but gratitude, will be some of the features which
mark this life.
In seeking to ascertain whether we belong to God's
kingdom, we may observe that it is not so much the
time and manner of the new birth that are a criterion
as the evidences of the new life. In some a change takes
place so suddenly and remarkably that they themselves
and others cannot but be aware of the precise period.
There is a quiet, sober-minded Christianity which is
apt to shrink from such cases as if they had something
unreal and unreliable in them, and which imagines
that, however suitable they may have been at certain
epochs of gospel history, they are out of place in our
age. It would treat such converts very much as the
disciples seem for a while to have treated Paul, with a
certain suspicion of his sincerity, and almost an incredulity as to the power of God's grace. But some of
the most remarkable men in the Church of Christ have
been in all times the subjects of these decided transformations-Paul and Augustine and Luther and Bunyai, not to come nearer our own days. We should
not only acknowledge such cases, but rejoice to see
them, as proving the presence of the old Pentecostal
power, and, if there be a tendency in such ardent natures to extremes, it is the part of the longer established
Christians to take them by the hand and seek to guide
them. Certainly revivals of spiritual life in sudden




]KINGDOM OF GOD.             159
fieshness and extraordinary power are as much needed
as ever they were, and if more unfrequent than formerly it is probably because we do not enough expect
them.
On the other hand, some of those who have undergone this change suddenly are guilty of similar intolerance, and doubt the Christianity of all who have not
had the same experience as themselves. They require
the time and place of conversion, and a certain order
of spiritual conviction, with an unhesitating assurance
of faith, before they will admit a man's title to be a
Christian. This is to forget, again, that many of those
who have been the most eminent Christians have grown
up slowly into the light and life of the gospel, and have
confessed themselves unable to point to the period and
way in which they crossed the boundary line. This
seems to have been the case with a number of the first
disciples who passed through the baptism of John, and
it will probably always be so with the majority of those
who have been trained under Christian influences, and
have become wise unto salvation by knowing the Scriptures from their youth.
Meanwhile, the welfare of the Church of Christ may
be promoted by the presence of both elements. The
one gives ardor and fresh impulse, the other stability
and edifying growth. What is wanted is that each
should be willing to recognize the other when it offers
the  only real credential, the  Christian character.
Wherever we find the fruits we should admit that there
is a tree of righteousness of God's planting. As long as
there are such diverse dispositions and temperaments,
and such varying circumstances in life, we may expect




160            NOT FAR FROM THE
that God's truth will find its entrance into the mind by
different ways, that some will be operated on by one
kind of evidence, some by another, some be taken by
storm, others yield to slow influence, and that even the
color and shape of the Christian life will vary, while
yet there is a common likeness in all who possess it.
We must seek to have the broad charity that will rejoice in this, even though there may be some things in
the form of it with which we cannot personally sympathize. The thing common to all will be the prevailing
likeness to Christ. Where the grand features of his
character appear, the man belongs to the kingdom
of God whether he can point out the time and place of
his birth's register or not. Life carries with it its own
signet.
Whether the scribe whom our Lord here addressed
finally entered the kingdom we are not told. We may
hope that, like Nicodemus, he was led on to a full decision, and that perhaps, "when a great company of the
priests became obedient to the faith" (Acts vi. 7), he
was of the number. It may be for a good reason that
the result is concealed, to fill us with a salutary awe
when symptoms are so favorable, and to urge us to
bring them to an undoubted issue. If a case be sought
which stands over against that of the scribe as an instance of true decision, it is found in Peter. Notwithstanding his sad fall, there are two words of his which
show that his mind was fully made up. There is the
feeling of spiritual unworthiness that comes out when
he says, " Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O
Lord; " and yet there is that view of Christ which will
not let him quit hold of Him, " Lord, to whom shall we




KINGDOM OF GOD.              161
go? Thou hast the words of eternal life." The turning points of the new birth and the new life are both
found here, and we should not rest till we reach them.
The subject would be incomplete if we did not, in the
close, advert to some of the reasons which make it so
desirable that a man who is near the kingdom of God
should strive to enter it. If there are some so far
away that they at times fall into a despair of ever
reaching it, there are a greater number so near that they
sink into an apathetic contentment with being almost
Christians. Those that are far off may come to be
nigh when the children of the kingdom are cast out.
Let this, then, be considered that though the distance
may not seem great, there is momentous importance
in it. It is thought by many that a character based
on mere natural goodness is enough in the way of religion. If there be a proper regard to morality, and a
kindly bearing to our fellow-men, it passes well in this
world and may pass in the iext. This, felt or expressed, is the opinion of a great multitude close to our
Christianity, and if they have any misgiving, they put
it down with the reflection that they are the multitude.
It is good for us to leave this deceptive atmosphere,
and put ourselves face to face with the Word of God.
If there be any truth in it, it is clear that a great deal
depends on being a Christian, and that to be a Christian needs something more than a decent arrangement
of the natural life. " He that believeth on him is not
condemned; but he that believeth not is condemned
already, because he hath not believed in the name of
the only begotten Son of God."  The man who trusts
the mere natural good life must not only set aside such
11




162            NOT FAR FROM THE
a plain declaration, but the whole meaning of the gospel, the incarnation and death of the Son of God, the
work of the Spirit, the solemnity of judgment and the
very essence of religion as consisting in the friendship
and fellowship of the soul with God. The natural life
of man lies outside of these things, and he who confines himself to it takes the consequences of neglecting
them. Apart even from the utterances of the Bible,
let men only take conference with their own conscience
when it speaks without the bias of worldly influence.
It reveals often the flaws and failures of the natural
life in such a way that, through the gaping chasms,
the hollowness beneath is visible, and the man shrinks
from himself. Nothing but a view of Chtist as the
source of pardon and of new life can enable a man to
look such an awakened conscience calmly in the face;
and if he cannot meet conscience, how can he encounter God? Or, even laying aside conscience, let a man
consult the nature of his own soul, and ask if its end
can be found in a life that does not regard God, and
that has not learned to stand right with Him. This is
to leave the highest part of the nature which should
be the light and crown of all the rest, utterly neglected
and ruined. It is to let a plant cling to the earth that
was made to climb, and that can bring forth its best
flowers and fruits only when it ascends; as if a palace
were tenanted in its dungeons and lower rooms, while
the higher apartments, which command the most glorious prospects over land and sea and to the broad sky,
are left desolate; or, as if a city had its streets crowded
with traffic and filled with the din of labor and busy
life, but the temples, which tell of man's dignity by




KINGDOM OF GOD.             163
pointing him to God, remain in untrodden silence, and
become the homes only of the dead. Can a man who
has a soul, feel that it is well with him in such a state?
and yet thus he stands while he refuses to admit God
to his rightful place.
Another reason why we feel anxious that those near
the kingdom should enter it, is the effect their position
has upon others. When there is a nature that has so
much of the beautiful and attractive outside the proper
Christian sphere, it is ready to impress those who do
not think very deeply with the idea that the gospel is
not so necessary as the Bible declares. Inconsistent
Christians are an obstacle on one side; and the fair
natural life may shine so much in contrast that we do
not wonder at those who have not yet felt the power
of a higher principle being stumbled. In this mixed
and imperfect world it is impossible to exclude all
harsh and cold things from the kingdom of God, but
we may aim at having all naturally beautiful things
included in it, and at having the graft of heaven inserted in the best of earth. This is certain, that when
what is best in nature does enter in, it will be the first
to confess that its own was poor and worthless compared
with the new aim which God sets before it. Its seeming is made real, and its real rises to a height unthought
of before. Its sense of rightness puts on a transparent
purity, and its kindliness a tenderness of sympathy,
that make such a character become one of the most
beautiful things our world can look upon. The young
man whom Jesus loved, from whom he parted with
such a regret, rises into the disciple who lay on his
Master's bosom, the conception of whose face among




164             NOT FAR FROM THE
the chosen friends of Christ has been the ideal of the
artist ever since, and whose mind more than any other
received, and still reflects, the likeness of Him who was
fairer than the children of men. When, even in a far
humbler degree, such a union of nature and grace
occurs, it specially adorns the doctrine of our Lord and
Saviour; and to gain it for the gospel cause must be
an object of peculiar interest.
This, moreover, should be pondered by all, that the
only security for permanence in what is naturally
attractive in human character consists in connecting
it with God. Here, too, the grass withereth, and the
flower of it falleth away. The brightest and most
beautiful things of the heart lie all unshielded if God's
shadow is not over them. The grace of God can keep
the nature sweet in the midst of all bitterness, and
bring out its sweetness most upon a cross, and under
draughts of vinegar and gall. But the conflicts of life,
the assaults of passion, the irritations of care and illsuccess, and the resentments against man's injustice,
will corrode and canker the finest heart if it is not
constantly drawing the corrective from a Divine source.
Even without these trials, whatever has not God in it is
smitten with the inevitable law of decay. It can be
nothing more than the seed sown in thin earth over
the rock, which, because it has no root, withers away.
Whatever of human kindnesses and amiabilities may
be there, if there be all utter forgetfulness of the God
of our life, and a cold indifference to the Father of
spirits, there can be nothing permanent, and the bearing to man only stands out in sadder contrast with
such an unaccountable and appalling neglect.




KINGDOM OF GOD.             165
Outwardly, then, the human graces and virtues may
bring a man at times close to the boundary of the kingdom, but there is still a limit between, which is of vast
importance in the inner life, and which shows itself
more openly as time advances. It is as if a man were
standing on the shore, close to where a ship is moored.
There is but a line between, and a step may cross it.
But the one is fixed, the other moves, and all the
future of existence depends on that step, - new lands,
a new life, and God's great wide world. In the spiritual sphere to stand still is to fall away, to be left on
that shore, doomed to decay and death. To pass into
God's kingdom is to move with it, not only up to the
grandeur of his universe, but into the heritage of
Himself.
The great Italian poet, in speaking of those who lived
in dead indifference, without either " infamy or praise,"
says that he saw in the other world the shade of him
who "with ignoble spirit refused the great offer."  It
has been a disputed question who was, in the poet's
eye enduring the eternal shame of declining to take one
noble step. Those surely are in the right who find
him in that young man who turned away sorrowful
when the Lord said, "Come, follow Me," for, as has
been observed, nothing that ever happened in the world
could be so justly called, as Dante calls it, " the great
refusal." If anything can fill the future world of sin
and loss with tormenting regret, it must be that the
kingdom of God was so near, the call to it so free, and
that the opportunity was fatally and totally lost. How
sadly does the wise man say, " for man knoweth not
his time," and what a sorrow was in the heart of Christ




166            NOT FAR FROM THE
when He said, "If thou hadst known, even thou, at
least in this thy day, the things which belong unto thy
peace." Not far from the kingdom of God, and yet
this not far may lose it all!
The old question may be coming from some, " But
what must we do? " and the old answer still remains
good, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou
shalt be saved." There is no other way, and never
can be, of entering tile kingdom but by coming to Him
who is its Head and Lord; and our wisdom and our
safety is not to wait for some more favoring circumstances, or for some great crisis of the soul, but to have
the heart go, here and now, to that Saviour who is not
far from every one of us. It was an earthquake shock
which roused the jailer, but in that same city of Philippi, Lydia had her heart quietly opened. This hour,
in the secret silent purpose. of the soul, the question
may be settled and the boundary line crossed. If any
one feels that it is right to take this step, let him take
it now, looking to Christ as the Healer of all the sinful
past and the Helper of all the doubtful future. Let
him put this look to Christ into his first act, whatever
it may be, and then into every act that follows. This
is the Christian's walk of faith, the life of God's kingdom, which becomes through God's grace ever stronger
and more living as it is aimed at. The first step into
the kingdom is in no way different from every other
which succeeds; it is the doing before Christ and God
what was heretofore done before man. It will cut off
the sinful act and purify and elevate the base, but it will
destroy nothing that is natural, nothing that is truly
human. He who stands on the boundary line of his




KINGDOM OF GOD.             167
kingdom freely inviting, ready to accept every resolve
however feeble, will be near in all difficulty to strengthen with sufficient grace. If the purpose has been humbly but sincerely formed in any heart to take Christ at
his word, let us thank God for it — if there be delay,
the regret and the loss that may follow will be all your
own, for, " be ye sure of this, that the kingdom of God
is come nigh unto you."




X.
orE  and  $akhing.
"The Son of Man is as a man taking a far journey, who left
his house, and... gave to every man his work, and commanded
the porter to watch." -MARK xiii. 34.
/HE Christian Church is here compared to a
great house or palace left for a time by its'~3A XLord and Master, the Son of Man. He left
his church at his ascension, and He will return again
to take account of it at the general judgment in the
end of the world. He comes at the same time to
every individual at his death. The Son of Man at his
departure gave authority to his servants, that is, not
merely, as some say, to the office-bearers of his church,
but to all his servants, authority to transact in his
room, to maintain due order in the house, and seek its
good. There is meanwhile no other above them in the
house, no earthly master, but only the Word of Christ,
which under the teaching of his Spirit He has left for
their guidance.  Besides this authority to maintain
order in the house, it is said " He gave to every man
his work, and commanded the porter to watch." This




WORK AND WATCHING.             169
is the most important portion of Christ's parting
charge, since the rule and order of the house are
there only for the sake of the work and watching in
it. It is to these that we shall now turn attention,
taking, first, the work of the servants; second, the
watch of the porter; and third, the bearing of each of
these upon the other.
I. The work of the servants. And here we observe
that work is the common duty of all in Christ's house.
It would be very strange if it were not so. The first
thing we read of God doing for man when He made
him was to assign him work. Before He gave him a
right to eat of the fruit of the trees "' He put him into
the garden of Eden to dress it and to keep it" (Gen.
ii. 15). When man is translated to the heavenly Eden
it is not to idleness  " they serve Himl day and night
in his temple." The wise man when he looked abroad
on the world made this deep reflection -" all things
are full of labor." The calm stars are in ceaseless motion, and every leaf a world, with its busy inhabitants,
and the sap coursing through its veins as the life-blood
through our own. He who made all worlds has said,
"My Father worketh hitherto and I work."  It would
be strange then if the Christian Church, which was intended to be the beating heart to all this world's activities, were exempted from a law so universal. It was
for this end that Christ called its members into it" why stand ye here all the day idle? " and then " gave
to every man his work." Were it otherwise it would be
against our best and highest nature. Work is not only
a duty but a blessing. Every right deed is a step in




170            WORK AND WATCHING.
the upward scale of being by which we are raised to
that rich reward — " Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." That joy is
itself larger and nobler employment near the throne of
Him who has risen to heaven, not for idle repose, but
grander action. If any one is ready to complain of the
urgent voices that summon him to labor, of Christ's
command, " son, go work to-day in my vineyard," of
the pressing wants of the household that seem to grow
in piercing earnestness, of fellow-servants who plead
for aid, and fellow-sinners whose miseries cry for pity,
let such an one remember that this is the ordinance of
a wise Master who set us the example of unwearied
labor, finishing one work to begin another, -that it is
the law of the universe of that God who fainteth not
neither is weary in deeds of kindness to his creatures,
— and that it is in this way God and his Christ lift us
up to the blessed dignity of being their fellow-workers.
Instead of praying that God would grant us less work,
our request should be that He would give us a greater
heart and growing strength to meet all its claims.
mWe observe next that this work of Christ's house
is varied to different individuals. " The Son of Man
gave to every one, that is, to each one, his work."
In one respect there is something common in the work
of all, as there is a common salvation. "This is the
work of God, that ye believe in Him whom He hath
sent" —' this is the will of God, even vour sanctification." We have said this is common work for each
one, and yet even here there may be a variety in the
form. There is a different color of beauty in different
stones that are all of them precious. One man may




WORK AND WATCHING.             171
be burnishing to the sparkle of the diamond, while
another is deepening to the glow of the ruby. For
this reason there are such different temperaments
in Christian character, and varying circumstances in
Christian life, that the foundation of the wall of the
city may be garnished with all manner of precious
stones. Each Christian has his own place and lustre
in that temple, and therefore there is no ground to disparage our neighbor and none to despair of ourselves,
if we are both in the hand of Christ. When we look
from the individual life to the practical work, the
variety is still more marked.  There are different
members, and all have not the same office. Some are
there to teach -some to counsel and administer
some to tend the young -some to visit the sick-bed
- some to conduct the temporal affairs of the Church
- some to be liberal givers as God has prospered them,
and some, without any formal mode of action, come
under this description, which applies to them  all,
" sons of God, without rebuke, shining as lights in the
world, holding forth the Word of life." It is very beautiful to see how the God, who has bound his world into
a grand harmony by its very diversity, has arranged
for this same end in his Church, by giving the members
their different faculties of work, —how the pure light
that comes from the sun breaks into its separate hues
when it touches the palace-house of Christ with its
varied cornices and turrets till every color lies in tranquil beauty beside its fellow. If it is not so it should
be so, and as the Church grows it will be so. Use and
ornament, the corner-stone and the copestone, shall
both be felt to have their due place. To see how this




172           WORK AND WATCHING.
may be is to perceive that an end can be put to all
jealousies and heart-burnings, and may help us even
now to take our position calmly and unenviously,
working in our department, assured that our labor
shall be found to contribute to the full proportion of
the whole.
Another remark is that each individual has means
for ascertaining his own work. The Son of Man "gave
to every man his work." The Master of the house let
each servant know what he was expected to attend to,
and it must be supposed that Christ will have some
means by which He gives a man intimation of what
LHe looks for from him. It is very vain to seek this as
some have done in ally personal revelation, or any
irresistible impression made on the mind.  Christ
guides men into their sphere of work by the finger of
his providence, and by the enlightenment of his Word
in the hand of his Spirit. A man is to try to find his
place of usefulness in the Church of Christ very much
as he tries to find it in the world of men, and indeed these two generally go together. If it be sometimes difficult to ascertain this, it may be well to
remember that this very difficulty is part of our training. It might be a much simpler and a more satisfactory thing meanwhile to have our place directly
pointed out to us, but it would not make us so strong
in the end.
It is of importance to have some rules to guide us
in choosing Christian work, and the first we mention is
to consider for what we are most fitted. There is
scarcely any one who has not some specialty, both as
a man and a Christian, which makes him suited for




WORK AND WATCHING.             173
some particular service, and it should be his aim to
discover this. There is of course the danger of judging too favorably of ourselves, and running where we
are not called, and the opposite danger of our diffidence or inertness that leads some to hide their talent
in the earth; but in general, if a man will be true and
honest, he may with God's help come to know what
his power for usefulness is. An important guide in
this respect is the opinion of our fellow-men when
fairly expressed. If there be a strong appeal from
them for our help in a good work, it should do much
to counterbalance a sense of our own unfitness. This
is one of the marked ways in which Christ speaks to
US.
Another rule is to consider well where God has placed
us, - our position in life, our opportunities for particular action or influence, the paths in which we move in
society, the leisure that lies in our hand. To examine
these carefully, and see how we can with all wisdom
turn them to Christian profit is a great matter for
every one of us. If there be an earnest desire to do
good even with a sense of much unfitness, it is marvellous how fitness will grow. He who sends the opportunity and the desire will send the qualification, and I
do not know of any nobler encomium from the lips of
the Great Master than this, " She hath done what she
could."  The thought of having it from Him at last
may strengthen our weak hands and make our hearts
leap with joy. In general, I believe it will be found
that the best Christian work is not far from our own
door, and that those are mistaken who think they can
do nothing till they find some great sphere, and who




174           WORK AND WATCHING.
run hither and thither in search of it. Church agencies
have their high value, in some respects they are indispensable, but it would be sad indeed if they could
measure in their records all the work of Christ's
servants. It is often most effectually performed when
it is done in no church connection, but noiselessly and
informally, in hidden nooks of quiet homes, or walking
by the wayside and yet scattering seed in the field. A
master among his servants, a workman among his associates, a mother among her children, a sister among
brothers, may be dropping words and radiating influences of which there shall be no report till the last
great disclosure shall bring out the " Well done, good
and faithful servant." The greatest work of the Christian Church should be this natural outgoing of its own
life   a life which should obliterate the distinction
between the religious and the secular, and make them
both one, - all work, religion, - and all life, worship.
Here there is room for each one, whether in the busy
world or the calmest retreat; and if we only carefully
seek to know what we are and where we are, and put
the question prayerfully, " Lord, what wilt thou have
me to do? " we shall find that the Son of Man has
given us our work, and that He will give us also
strength and fitness for it.
II. We come now to consider, in the second place,
the watch of the porter, -" and commanded the porter
to watch." The porter is that one of the servants
whose station is at the door to look out for those who
approach, and open to them if they have right to enter.
Are we to understand that the body of the servants




WORK AND WATCHING.            175
are exempted from watching while one takes the duty
for them? This would be against the bearing of the
whole Bible and of Christ's own teaching. In verse
37th of this chapter He guards us against such a misapprehension, " What I say unto you, I say unto all,
Watch."  The object of our Lord is, by telling us that
the workmen are many and the watchman one, to impress this lesson, that, while the mode of labor in the
house may vary, there is something common to all who
are in it, — the duty of watchfulness. The porter
must stand at the door of every heart while that heart
pursues its work.
What are we to understand then by the watch of
the porter? Some say it is prayer - to be constantly
fulfilling that injunction, " Pray without ceasing."
And certainly prayer is closely connected with watching. The two are frequently conjoined by Christ,
" Watch and pray," " Watch unto prayer."  But this
combination of them shows that they differ, for Scripture uses no vain repetitions. The parable itself will
disclose the meaning. The master of the house is
absent and the period of his return is uncertain. The
porter is stationed at the door to look out for the sigls
of his coming, and give timely notice of it. He is to
have his eye turned also inward upon the arrangements of the house, that they may be in readiness for
the Lord's return. This return of Christ is at the end
of the world, to take account not only of his professed
servants, but of all men, and there can be no doubt
that from the moment of his departure He has charged
his Church to expect his re-appearance, and to perform
all her service in view of it. When the cloud received




176           WORK AND WATCHING.
Him, and his disciples looked up to it as to a door that
closed on a departing friend, the angelic attendants
assured them, " This same Jesus shall so come as ye
have seen Him go into heaven," and when we gaze up
into that broad sky in the glory of day or mystery of
night, we should strive to realize the time when it
shall part again and restore our unseen Lord. The
Book of Revelation which concludes the canon of the
Word shows the attitude of the Church, — her eye
searching the future, her arms outstretched in longing
as his were in blessing, and the sigh breathing from
her heart, " Even so, come, Lord Jesus."
This great event is constantly represented in the
New Testament as near, alid the view is natural and
true. Never does the meeting with a beloved friend
come so close to us as when we have just parted from
him. Love makes the tears of farewells sparkle into
welcomes; and if we could only retain the same impression of Christ's loss, his return would be as nigh.
It is moreover, in the New Testament, the great event
that towers above every other. The heaven, that gives
back Christ, gives back all we have loved and lost,
solves all doubts, and ends all sorrows. His coming
looks in upon the whole life of his Church, as a lofty
mountain peak looks in upon every little valley and
sequestered home around its base, and belongs to them
all alike. Every generation lies under the shadow of
it, for whatever is transcendently great is constantly
near, and in moments of high conviction it absorbs
petty interests and annihilates intervals.  It may
surely be for us to consider, whether our removal of
Christ's coming further from us in feeling does not




WORK AND WATCHING.             177
arise from a less vivid impression of its reality and
surpassing moment. Such views depend in no way
upon peculiar opinions regarding his advent, for the
longing expectancy of his appearance should be as
common to all Christians as is their hope, and a thousand years are as a day to the grand event which
opens everlasting life. What is the crust of a few centuries or millenniums, if the great ocean of eternity
be felt heaving underneath, surging up through the
chasms which death reveals, and admonishing us of
the time when it shall sweep away all barriers,.and
leave nothing but its own infinite bosom?
To be constantly realizing this, and living and laboring in the prospect of it, is, we believe, what is here
enjoined in the admonition " to watch."  It is to do
all our work with the thought of his eye measuring it,
as of a friend who is ever present to our soul, gone
from us in outward form, sure to return, and meanwhile near in spirit, -to subject our plans and acts to
his approval, asking ourselves at every step how this
would please Him, shrinking from what would cloud
his face, rejoicing with great joy in all that would
meet his smile. If God has taken from us earthly
friends, and if we continue to think of them with the
warm love of earth mingling in the awe of the unseen,
it is to help us to rise to the conception of that greatest Friend who will bring them back at his return and
give us their approval in his own. At the same time
there is included, in the view of Christ's coming, the
thought of our own death, which brings each one of us
close up to his second advent, whensoever it may be.
Every life has an end, as momentous to it as the end
12




178           WORK AND WATCHING.
of the world, for it places it immediately before the
j.udgment-seat, and subjects it to the omniscient eye.
The peculiarity of the Christian view is that our own
death and Christ's coming are seen in one line of perspective, and that all our work should be done looking
for that blessed hope, " the glorious appearing of the
great God, our Saviour Jesus Christ."
It is in most cases a much harder thing to preserve
this watchful heart than to have our hands busy with
the work of the house, and therefore, probably, the
emphasis which our Lord puts on it -" He gave to
every man his work" -" He commanded the porter to
watch." But, if attended to, it will bring its proportionate benefit. It will keep all wakeful, for nothing
is so fitted to rouse from the lethargy that falls on
every spirit as the thought of the day of his coming.
It will preserve purity if we have before us those eyes
that are like a flame of fire, and so we shall " give all
diligence to be found of Him without spot, and blameless." It will maintain the soul in calmness, for not
those who are heedless feel the depth of security, but
those who have set their watch and go their steadfast
rounds. And it will rise increasingly to the fervor of
prayer, - that prayer which is the strength of the soul
and the life of all work. The thought of that grand
presence, which shall break down through the skies
to fill our world and test and renew all things, shall
make our hearts burn up like a fire to meet Him -
"Watch ye therefore, and pray always, that ye may
be accounted worthy to escape all these things that
shall come to pass, and to stand before the Son of
Man" (Luke xxi. 36).




WORK AND WATCHING.            179
III. We come now, in the third place, to show the
bearing of these two duties upon each other.
On the one hand, work cannot be rightly performed
without watching. If watching were absent, work
would be blind, and without a purpose. It would be
work without a proper crowning close, and without a
master to sum up all its results. The foresight of the
conclusion to which we are advancing makes us intelligent fellow-laborers with God, and helps us to concentrate our efforts on the one great issue. It is this
which lifts Christianity above all the philosophies.
They can only wish or guess what the future may
bring, and can work vaguely in the house, but have
no watchman at the door. They may have the hand
and the foot, but they want the eye and the ear which
can perceive already the signs and opening harmonies
of a new world - which learn from the mind of Christ
the preparations that are needed for the kingdom which
is righteousness and peace and joy.
If watching were absent, work would become discouraging and tedious. It would stretch away endlessly
into a limitless future, where each man's effort would
disappear in the general mass of human struggle, like
rivers in a shadowy, shoreless sea. We could not long
have heart for such work where we could neither perceive one grand consummation nor the share we were
to have in helping it. But now the coming of Christ
tells us there is a fixed and most blissful close, and every
earnest man, and every earnest effort, shall be found
to have a part in hastening it. There is no selfishness
in being stimulated by this, for it is a divine desire to
be made like God, channels of life and happiness, and




180           WORK AND WATCHING.
it is but a portion of the heart of Him who renounced
self, and who, for such a joy, endured the cross and
despised the shame. If we would see its results, we
have only to compare the fitful efforts of any human
system with the everlasting wells of benevolence that
have sprung up for eighteen hundred years from the
thought of a departed and returning Christ.
If watching were absent, work would become formal
and dead. The labor of the hands, as we all feel, degenerates quickly into barren routine, if there be not
a constant effort to keep the heart fresh. Duty can
never live long separate from truth, Christian service
from Christ. There must be oil in the lamp if it is to
burn. It is watching unto prayer that brings in this
Divine life, that quickens the powers; and makes them
rise up for new and higher work. The special danger
of our age is that we may lose perception of the real
soul and end of all our labor in the multiplied machinery that carries it on. Our very Christian activities
will lead to decline and death if spiritual life is not
growing within, in proportion to them, - if we are not
realizing more strongly our own individual spiritual
wants, living more in the presence of eternity, and remembering that admonition which stands connected
with Christ — "' Be watchful, and strengthen the things
which remain, that are ready to die."
But if work cannot be performed without watching,
on the other hand, watching will not suffice without
work.
Without work, watching would be solitary. There
do seem times when God shuts a heart up to this -
when pining sickness or sore bereavement makes work




WORK AND WATCHING.             181
impossible or utterly distasteful, and one feels as if he
could only hold himself above despair, and look out for
that Christ who is to heal all. And yet we believe there
is no one in this world irretrievably condemned to such
a life. The loneliest sick-bed, the darkest chamber of
sorrow, never loses the power of Christian influence,
and He who trode the wine-press alone, and all the while
was saving others —who made his cross a place to
preach comfort from - surely teaches us how possible
it is, and how noble, for a crushed and broken heart to
forget itself. Then it is doing its greatest work for
Christ, and drawing to it the hand that will bind its
cruel wounds and give it all its desire. We may make
the night solitary to ourselves if we banish the watchmain from the sound of all service, and bury our soul
in bitter musings; but we should rather thank God
that there is no spot on earth where some duty does
not still remain, and, in the calm steadfast pursuance
of it, we should beguile the hours of the night till " the
day break and the shadows flee away."
Without work, watching is subject to many temptations. There are men who have placed the essence of
the Christian life in solitude and contemplation, and
imagined they were thereby fleeing from the world's
dangers and their own passions. It is against the example of Christ and all his apostles, and we know how
sadly in most cases it has failed. We know how empty
speculation and vanity and pride have sprung up in
such idle isolation, and how evil desires come more
readily to the inactive watcher than to the busy worker.
There is a rest and a heaven within, which souls weary
of the world may find, but it is discovered best in the




182           WORK AND WATCHING.
world's midst, seeking its good and doing his will who
lived and died to save it.
And then, last of all, watching without work is unready for Christ. The solitary watcher can have no
works of faith nor labors of love to present, no saved
souls to offer for the Redeemer's crown, and no crown of
righteousness to receive from Him. He may be " looking for," but he is not " hasting unto," the coming of
the day of God, standing with " his lamp burning,"
but not with " his loins girt." He is saved, but alone,
as on a board or broken piece of the ship, not as they
who have many voices of blessing around, and many
welcomes before, and to whom an entrance is ministered abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of
their Lord and Saviour.
Let us see then the fitness of this union.  "The
Son of Man gave to every man his work, and commanded the porter to watch."  What need of work!
The world how dark - the soul how precious - time
how short - life how irreparable — inquisition and
judgment how stern! How much need of watching!
How deceitful our hearts -how many our enemies —
how insensibly slumber creeps on- how dreadful to
be found sunk in carnal sleep on the breaking of the
great day of God!
That man is happy who can combine them in perfect harmony - who has Stephen's life of labor and
Stephen's vision in the end. In every soul there
should be the sisters of Bethany, active effort and
quiet thought, and both agreeing in mutual love
and help. But Mary no longer sits at the feet of
Chl. st and looks in his face; she stands at the door




WORK AND WATCHING.            183
and gazes out into the open sky to watch the tokens
of his coming, while in this hope her sister in the
house still works. In due time He will be here to
crown every humble effort with overflowing grace,
to satisfy the longing soul that looks for Him, and
to raise all the dead for whom we weep.
But what of those who neither work nor watch, who
serve their own pleasure and forget that there is a
coming hour which must give account of all? If there
be any purpose in God's world, or truth in his book,
or meaning in conscience, such an hour must arrive.
"If the righteous scarcely be saved, where shall the
ungodly and the sinner appear?" There is but one
resource for any man- to grasp in faith the cross of
Him who shall come on the throne. That cross disarms all the lightnings of his hand, for it finds an
answer in his heart. To know it, live by it, serve
under it, is true life now, and to look for its sign
in the sky is the good hope, through grace, of life
eternal.




XI.
uirial n  CUs   its!5eson%  and  q$uestions.
"And the Lord buried him in a valley in the land of Moab,
over against Beth-peor; but no man knoweth of his sepulchre
unto this day." —DEUT. xxxiv. 6.
HERE is something strange and altogether
singular in this, that Moses, the greatest of
~z~~ Iall the Old Testament prophets, should find
a resting-place in the earth and no man be able to
point it out. The sepulchres of Abraham, Isaac, and
Jacob are known among the groves of Hebron; the
bones of Joseph, after many wanderings, rest in
Shechem, in that parcel of ground which his father
gave to him, the best beloved son. Rachel's tomb,
watered by many a tear, stands on the way to " Ephrath
whlich is Bethlehem," for there her strength failed her,
and she sank, as did all the ancient saints, on the way
to that birthplace of hope. The sepulchre of David is
by Jerusalem, the-home of his heart. But the last
abode of Moses, the servant of God and the lawgiver
of Israel, is claimed by no city in the wide land.




THE BURIAL OF MOSES: ITS LESSONS, ETC.  185
It was certainly not neglect on the part of his people
that left the spot unmarked. They murmured often
against him, but, long before he died, discontent
was hushed, and he had taken a place in their hearts
never occupied by any other, for "there arose not
a prophet since in Israel like unto Moses, whom the
Lord knew face to face." It was not what a Jew
would have wished or feigned. Had popular feeling
constructed the history it would have framed this part
otherwise, and assigned to Moses some well-known
sepulchre, which would have drawn to it pilgrim feet,
and made the land of promise to a Jewish heart still
more dear. There is one of the little tokens in this
that the Bible is not a human book. It meets the need
of man deep down, where at first he himself does not
recognize it, but it contradicts many of his superficial
desires; and yet these very contradictions of desire
may be found, when carefully considered, to have
tokens of a Divine wisdom in them. It may be worth
at least one discourse to inquire whether it is not so in
the striking exception which God has made in regard
to the burial of Moses.
Even though we knew nothing more, we might infer
that this closing incident, in the history of the greatest
man in the Old Testament Church, must have been
often read and attentively pondered. The place and
the manner of burial, in that ancient time, were subjects of deep interest, were often carefully prescribed
by the dying man, and were sacredly cared for by the
survivors. The way in which a man " was gathered
to his fathers " has its record in the Word of God, and
its meaning. No Jew therefore could pass this by




186           THE BURIAL OF MOSES:
with indifference when he thought of Moses and his
death. We know from their traditions that it was
frequently discussed, and in one part of the New
Testament (Jude ix.) the dispute about the body of
Moses is distinctly referred to, whatever interpretation
we may choose to attach to that peculiar passage.
This further may be said, that, the more carefully
we study the Old Testament, the more we shall be convinced that it contains a development of truth, not
merely by spoken revelations, but through events and
incidents divinely arranged, and made the subjects of
thought to those ancient believers, under the teaching
of God's Spirit. These incidents are planted like
seeds in the popular heart, and grow up slowly into
leaf and flower in recognized doctrines. This was
Christ's own method of instruction in his miracles and
parables, and we may expect to find it in the Divine
history througlhout. No one can close the Old Testament and open the New without seeing that, during
the interval, immense progress had been made in the
unfolding of religious truth. The expectation of a
Redeemer and a redemption had become clear and concentrated, and the belief in an eternal life, and in the
resurrection, was held by many. There is, we believe,
no satisfactory way of accounting for this but by
the work of God's own Spirit, in the hearts of thoughtful men, using for his instrument the revelation which
had been already given.  We shall take the account
of the death and burial of Moses, and seek to show
how it was fitted to be such a source of fruitful reflection to the Old Testament Church.




ITS LESSONS AND SUGGESTIONS.      187
I. God will have no one, living or dead, to stand
between his creatures and Himself.
The first great lesson which the Jewish people were
to be taught was the supremacy of the one true God.
This was the indispensable basis of every other revelation, - the one God, alone, supreme, - and then his
attributes, his law, his way to man. They were taken
from among the nations and reclaimed from idolatry
to carry this truth to the world; and then, when sovereignty was established, mercy could be fully proclaimed. It was the life-long work of Moses to fix this
truth of God's sovereignty. The word given him to
bear was, " Hear, 0 Israel! the LORD our God is one
LORD." All his labors and his trials arose from the
difficulty of impressing this on their deep and constant
conviction, and his death would have had no regret to
him had he felt assured his work was done. How solemn and pathetic his warnings to cleave to the true
God and wander to no other, as if he felt already the
misgivings of their defection.
And yet what he had done for them made it not unlikely that their reverence for him might prove their
snare, and that they might be tempted to give him the
place he desired to secure for God. Moses had been
to them more than ever man was to a nation, -- their
deliverer from the most crushing bondage, their leader
through the most terrible scenes, wielding in their
behalf the highest powers of nature and gifts of the
soul — their lawgiver, their prophet, their advocate
with God. In every strait they had fled to Moses and
found in him sympathy and relief. In all their waywardness and rebellion, his heart never turned from




188           THE BURIAL OF MOSES:
them. Their murmurs against him were many; but,
long ere he died, his self-devotion and magnanimity
had found fitting acknowledgment. The clear, calm
grandeur of his soul had risen above the clouds of
their discontent, and he had taken a place never approached by any other. He stood at the head separated
from them all, — " Moses and the prophets;" and "A
prophet like unto Moses" was the name for that Messenger from God who was to complete every Divine
mission.
The danger came, that death, which lifts every great
man higher, might have raised Moses above the lesson
of his life — the unapproachable supremacy of God
himself. The deification of their heroes was the manner of the nations round them - it was the atmosphere
of the age, and in this event we can surely see, first of
all, a means taken to guard the Israelites from the
temptation. Had Moses himself obtained his choice,
it would have been that, in death, he might carry out
the lesson of his life, and here he gains it. He dies
apart, and is buried in secret, where his grave can be
dishonored by no pilgrimage, and where no false veneration can rear altars to his memory. And this first
lesson did not fail. The nation worshipped many
strange deities, but it never gave the place of God to
his prophets. If any life could have tempted them to
such a course it would have been that of Moses, and
when God removes him from their sight, and leaves
no relic for sense or imagination to build its worship
on, there is no successor of Moses who can assume the
place.




ITS LESSONS AND SUGGESTIONS.      189
II. God wishes men to see something more left of his
servants than the outward shrine.
In the history of the greatest and the best, the tomb
is often remembered and the life forgotten.  It is an
easier thing to revere the dust than to follow the example. There is an admonition in the Bible, " Remember
them wlhich have the rule over you, who have spoken
unto you the word of God: whose faith follow, considering the end of their conversation" (Heb. xiii. 7);
and here at the commencement of the lengthened roll,
God inscribes it on an emphatic act. He takes away
the grave of Moses, that they may have before them,
in full and undisturbed relief, the man himself. His
words living and dying, his walk with God till God
took him, all that he was to God and to them, in selfdevotion and affection, — these survive him and can
never die. If they came to his grave, they approached
the creature and its fleeting part; but in coming to his
words and his life, they come to Moses himself and to
God.
And may we not see a similar lesson in this, that
the sepulchre of the greater Prophet than Moses is
equally unknown, and may we not wonder that Christians, under a system of spirit and life, have been more
slow than Jews to learn the lesson? Once, and once
only, were men invited " to see the place where the
Lord lay," that they might be assured it was empty,
and refrain any more from seeking the living among
the dead. If research the most patient has hitherto
done aught, it has been to show that the spot has left
no trace upon our earth. God has made the march of
armies and the desolation of centuries do for the sep



190           THE BURIAL OF MOSES:
ulchre of Christ what his own hand did for the grave
of Moses. He could scarcely have condemned more
strikingly, in history, that idolatry of place and form
which has usurped so long the worship of the spirit.
The Christian Church, no less than the Jewish, is taught
to look to the life and doctrine of its great Lawgiver
with this distinction, that we know most surely where
He is, to draw souls to Himself, and whence He shall
come "to change these vile bodies, and fashion them
like unto his own glorious body."
III. God takes the honor of his servants into his own
keeping.
The people of Israel must be taught, in the beginning
of their history, that the messengers of truth do not
come from their midst, but from a Master above. Man's
philosophy is the offspring of the soil of this earth. It
appeals to man's reason, and finds there its reward.
But God's law descends from God's throne, and, while
it meets the requirements of man's nature, it is not
responsible to them. Every true bearer of it has his
errand from God, gives his account to Him, and finds
his reward in God at last.
This lesson must be taught in the life and death of
the first of that lengthened line of messengers who are
to present Divine truth to the world. The object of
the Bible is to send into the world men who may witness to their fellow-men for God, and of Him, and
witness in fearless confidence, as feeling that, whether
they live or die, it is to God they belong; who will
speak to men, " whether they hear or whether they
forbear," and say with Paul, " with me it is a very




ITS LESSONS AND SUGGESTIONS.      191
small thing that I should be judged of you or of man's
judgment: he that judgethll me is the Lord! "
We need such an order of men still, not self-assuming or dominant, as " lords over God's heritage," but
gentle among them, while loyal to truth and to its God,
- men of kingly nature, because they serve a heavenly
Master, and who are bold to utter his word without
fear and without favor. Never since the world began
were such men needed more. And let it be remembered that, while this duty falls with double weight on
those who have been called to it by the rule of God's
house, it does not belong to them alone. Wherever a
man feels the force of Divine truth within him, he
should be fearless in his place to speak it out, without
shrinking, and to show that he is a witness for God.
It was the noble wish of Moses, " Would that all the
Lord's people were prophets," and all that follow him,
however humbly, to testify, in word or deed, to the
truth of God, shall have a share in his reward. " This
honor have all his saints."
How faithfully to men, and also how kindly, would
all our work be done, if we had our account, not to them,
but to God, ever in our eye! Moses ascends the mount
to learn God's will, and, when he has finished his work,
he goes to Him to die, and to find from Him his sepulchre. He, whose servant he is, takes him back into
his keeping, in the spirit of that grand old psalm which
comes down to us as " the prayer of Moses the manll of
God " (Psalm xc.), -" Lord, thou hast been our dwelling place in all generations."
" The Lord buried him." There is a higher honor
conferred on him than if all Israel had met to weep
and lament, or the world assembled to his obsequies.




192           THE BURIAL OF MOSES:
And when God buried him, this, too, was part of his
care, to give him a fitting site for his tomb, not in Canaan, though his heart was there, and his people's home,
but on the other side Jordan, and nigh to that desert
where the labor of his life had been. Forty'years'
toil and travail, and then the long quiet-sleep beside his
work, looking to where Sinai throws its shadow, and
Horeb piles its rocks, in advance to the land of promise
but not within it, like a noble leader who sinks on the
edge of battle and in the path of victory, and then
reposes where he falls! That wilderness is his monument, which his faith and courage have made illustrious, shining all through it yet, as the fiery pillar
lightened up its darkness, and making it, whenever we
think of it, still glorious with Moses' name.
IV. God would teach men that He has a relation to his
servants which extends beyond their death.
The great truths of life and immortality must surely
have begun to stir in the hearts of thoughtful men
when they knew this, that " the Lord buried him."
Shall God, then, pay such regard to the perishable
frame, and neglect the nobler part which dwelt in it?
The outward shape and fashioning of clay, made of the
dust and returning to it, was this then Moses, and not
rather the living soul, breathed into it by God, as
Moses himself records? and can the Maker put so disproportionate an estimate upon his own handiwork, as
carefully to store up the casket and throw away the precious jewel which it held? Could we cherish the portrait of one beloved and leave himself to perish, when
we might save him by stretching out the hand? Can this
be the kindness of God to his friends?- for either He




ITS LESSONS AND SUGGESTIONS.       193
must wish to preserve the souls of his servants and
want the power, or He must possess the power but
want the wish; and where, in the one case, would be
a God worthy of reverence, or where, in the other, a
God who could attract our love?
But when men become assured of his power, that He
is the Father of spirits, and when He proves such regard to the frail and fading form, the burial of Moses
might become God's way of leading reflective men out
to hopeful thoughts of the spirit that 1had given such
brightness to the now darkened face. When such questionings arose, " Wilt thou show wonders to the dead?
Shall the dead arise and praise thee? (Ps. lxxxviii.
10); then a record like this might lead to the conviction, " Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death
of his saints " (Ps. cxvi. 15). " Therefore my heart is
glad, and my glory rejoiceth; my flesh also shall
rest in hope. Thou wilt show me the path of life " (Ps.
xvi. 9).
Let it not be thought we ask too much reflection
here from these ancient believers. That they pondered
such questions anxiously all their writings show, and
that they found deep truths in the law of God these
psalms attest.  We are left to infer manly of the steps;
but we know that the plan chosen by God for some of
his greatest revelations was to set before men events
and incidents whichl arrested their thouglht, and guided
themn, by the teaching of his Spirit, to farther conclusions. A wise instructor employs not only his own
mind, but a book which he sets before the scholar's
eye, and God's book was the history of his dealings in
these events of life and death.
13




194           THE BURIAL OF MOSES:
And such a record as this must have led to thoughts
not only of the soul of mall but of the body also. It
is a God-given instinct that leads man to reverence the
frame in which the living spirit dwelt, and to see it laid
aside with pious care. There is a dim groping in it
after the hope that this part of our nature is also true,
and will be made in some way perpetual.  " Thou wilt
have a desire to the work of thy hands."  "They that
sleep in tile dust shall awake." And when " the Lord
buried him," He who made us identified Himself with
this instinctive feeling of the heart. It is in a line
with his own procedure, when He sent his Son in
human nature and raised Him in it from the dead, and
"set him at his own right hand in heavenly places."
Whatever is good in the first creation is taken up into
redemption to be ennobled and made immortal. The
burial of Moses is a step towards the resurrection of
Christ, taken after the manner of that ancient dispensation, dimly but tenderly. The seed is carefully laid
in the earth, as by One who knows that it is precious,
and who purposes to watch over it, and then the firstfruits rise as the pledge of the full harvest which is yet
to come. All this to the mind of an Israelite must
have been at first dark and doubtful; but there was
enough in it to stimulate inquiry, and gradually
quicken it into hope.
"The Lord buried him."  It assures us Christians
of things more clear, tells us that the dust of God's
servants is dear in his sight, and that his hand keeps
it safe against the day of the redemption of the body.
They may sleep in desert sands or frozen wreaths, in
the crowded city or the ocean's bed, " their ashes may




ITS LESSONS AND SUGGESTIONS.      195
fly no marble tells us whither," but his eye watches
over them as carefully as it did over this grave, which
his own hand in some mysterious way formed and
closed; and He will bring them forth every one when
"He writeth up the people."
V. God would teach men from the very first that his
regard is not confined to any chosen soil.
This was a danger into which these Israelites were
ready henceforth to fall. They were to be inclosed in
one land that they might preserve the truth of God
from corruption, and they were tempted thereby to
narrow their sympathies, and deny that the truth
could ever extend beyond it. But here in the burial
of their first and greatest prophet God leads them out
to wider views, if they are willing to learn.
" The Lord buried him in a valley in the land of
Moab, over against Beth-peor."  It must have seemed
strange when they entered the Land of Promise that
they could not carry the founder of their nation with
them. It would have been the glory of their soil, the
pride and boast of the land of Israel, and when the
Jew thought of it the earth would have seemed more
sacred because the dust of Moses mingled with it.
They may bear Joseph's bones across the Jordan, but
a greater is left behind in Moab, in the land of the
Gentiles, and all their power cannot change this purpose of God. This prerogative Gentiledom possesses
over Judaism, from the very commencement, that
it owns the sepulchre of Judah's lawgiver, and thus
God would teach them that the desire to make their
land the only land of God is vain. It could not but




196           THE BURIAL OF MOSES:
extend the sympathies and views of the Jew to a wider
range. When he came up to his yearly festival according to the law that Moses gave, and when, from the
mountains which stand round about Jerusalem, he
looked away to the hills of Moab, and thought that
beneath their shadows his great prophet was slumbering, he must have felt more tenderly and hopefully
towards the heathen soil. The dews must fall more
gently there and the flowers spring more sweetly, and
God's eye rest on it with some special favor. Thus
within a system that was exclusive there was planted
a seed that threw blossoms of charity beyond it, and as
time went on those blossoms came to fruit.  Men
taught by God arose, who spoke of the period when all
nations should serve the God of Israel, and the whole
earth be filled with his glory. Then this burial of
Moses would not seem so strange. The limits of the
land of Israel shall be extended and embrace this
grave, and the whole wide earth become a land of
promise.
That time is now. The death of Christ has consecrated the soil of the world. Wherever men kneel
with a pure heart they find God's mercy-seat, and
wherever they are laid in thle grave they are in holy
ground. He has made it all. " God's field" - the
garden where He sows his seed, in Moab as in Mount
Zion - hallowed by the sepulchre of the greater Prophet and one Redeemer of the race, where the sleepers
await the time when " their dew shall be as the dew of
herbs, and the earth shall cast out the dead" (Isa.
xxvi. 19).




ITS LESSONS AND SUGGESTIONS.      197
VI. There is one concluding lesson which has been
reserved for us in its fitlness, and which could be seen
only partially by the Jews, - that the seeming failure
in a true life may at last have a complete compensation.
Perhaps the life of no man in the Bible has the same
rounded fulness as the life of Moses. It had so little
of any flaw in the character, and it accomplished
so much for the cause of God and man. Take it from
beginning to end, and it appears to contain all that a
man could wish for in this world. But there was one
part where the character broke down, and one at
which the life fell short. On a great occasion his
temper failed him, and human passion marred the
tone of his mission. The penalty was that Moses did
not enjoy what his heart was set upon - the view of
the close of all his labors, and the entrance of his
nation into the home God had chosen for them.
It seems very hard that so great a punishment
should follow a single offence, and yet it is not uncommon in the life of a good man to see one false step
or one pause in self-control bring with it irreparable
loss. Moses prayed and pleaded in deep repentance
that it might be reversed, but in vain. He gained
perfect acquiescence in the will of God, and this was
probably the best compensation which this life could
give.  The sin was blotted out, and he knew it,
although the earthly effect of it remained. But if compensation is to be complete it must include the removal
of the earthly penalty. The perfect idea of God's forgiveness is not merely that He should take away the
inward pain of sin but the outward stigma of it, and
that he should make all the life what it would have




198           THE BURIAL OF MOSES:
been without that sin, or still richer and higher for the
very fall and rising. The spiritual Physician should
not only heal the wound but obliterate the scar, and,
in the language of the prophet, give " beauty instead
of burning."
In the case of Moses this does not at first appear.
"The Lord buried him," but not in Canaan; and He
showed him the land, but did not permit him to tread
it. To an ancient Jew this must for a while have
seemed strange almost to harshness, - to think that
the meanest in all their tribes should enter and look
on it, and eat of its plenty and drink of its sweet, and
that he who had toiled and agonized for this life-long
end, so faithful to God and so self-sacrificing, should
be excluded! No Israelite could look round on that
noble home, and the rejoicing family which dwelt in it,
without thinking of the great leader who stumbled at
the door and lay buried by the threshold. Is Canaan
then all, and is the whole life of Moses shut up in
wanderings through a wilderness? Slowly but irresistibly the thought of another land must have risen,
must have dawned upon the mind's eye, - a land of
which this earthly one was only the symbol, and which
must have given Moses perfect compensation for all he
lost in death. It could not be otherwise. They were
attracted and compelled to it by all they knew of God
and of his servant. It was God's very purpose in
these events to educate them to a belief in another
world, and to give them some faint conception of it - a
world where the things and ties of earth are carried up
to a heavenly temper and perfection. When a propllet came in after ages with, the promise, "Thine eyes




ITS LESSONS AND SUGGESTIONS.      199
shall see the king in his beauty; they shall behold the
land that is very far off" (Isa. xxxiii. 17), it must
have been felt by many to be suitable to this death of
Moses, and may have had its origin in his last look,
which took in " the precious things of heaven " as well
as " the precious things of earth and the fulness
thereof."
To us who live under the gospel the view of entire
compensation has been made clear. As God forgave
the sin of Moses, we can see that long since He has
made up the loss. When the prospect of the earthly
Canaan faded from  the eye, another opened with
brighter skies and better soil, a fresher river, and more
fragrant fruits. The Jerusalem for which those who
entered the land had to fight many a hard battle came
to him new and golden, like a bride adorned for her
husband; and for the tumult of the congregation of
Israel he joined the calm of the general assembly and
church of the first-born. The death of Moses, which
seemed to cut off his life irrevocably from its grand
object, realized it beyond his conception, and sealed it
to him for ever.
The thought of this may be a comfort to many of us
who feel at immeasurable distance from Moses, as if
our nature were all broken'by flaw and failure, and
our life arrested before it had reached any true end.
What unsatisfied yearnings, what shattered hopes rise
before us, as we look in and back! How little we
have enjoyed, how much less we have done! What
fields of promise once gleamed before us, and we feel
that they shall never be ours! We have marched
through deserts, and we are cut off by an irreversible




200           THE BURIAL OF MOSES:
decree, from the green land which beckoned us on.
There are weary aching hearts about these things, God
knoweth! But if there be a true purpose in the life it
shall reach a perfect close one day, its shortcomings
shall yet be completed, its errors rectified, its visions
realized. There are no ruins nor half-finished structures in the city of God. One of the most blessed
assurances of the Christian faith is, that not only can
there be a compensation for failure now, in the lessons
of humility, of trustfulness in God and of inward
peace amid outward loss, but that there shall yet be a
compensation in the perfectness of deed and of attainment. All the inward gains of the soul in its struggles, its defeats and disappointed hopes shall be
represented, and more than represented, in the fulness
of power and possession which shall be its heritage in
the endless life. It is by privation, not unfrequently
by disaster, that God qualifies souls for the highest
ends, and the thought of this may make the most
wearied heart among us bear up bravely, and " hope
to the end for the grace that shall be brought to it at
the revelation of Jesus Christ."
What is needed by all of us is that while we have
our natural desire to see some result of life in this
world — some " goodness of the Lord in the land of
the living," - as the great prophet of Israel had, we
should not reckon life lost if this is not gained, but
should rest assured that He who can give pardon of
sin and peace of heart now, can grant all the crown
and glory of a completed life in a world to come.
It is impossible to close this subject without remeinbering the remarkable way in which God set his seal




ITS LESSONS AND SUGGESTIONS.      201
at last upon the full compensation which was given to
Moses. He had prayed earnestly that he might enter
the earthly Canaan, and, though death disappointed
him, God in his own time and way heard his prayer.
Ages after a grave had been made for him in the valley
in the land of Moab, Moses stood within the limits of
the Promised Land. When Christ's disciples saw Him
transfigured, "behold, there talked with Him  two
men, which were Moses and Elias: who appeared in
glory, and spake of his decease which He should accomplish at Jerusalem " (Luke ix. 30). If the sacred
soil had any crowning honor it was when the feet of
the Son of God walked it, and Moses was detained at the
gate that, after many generations, he might enter and
look on the land in its most glorious prime. And in
this final entrance God shows how long He can bear a
prayer in memory, how He can seem at first to reject
it, and yet answer it at last above all that a man can
ask or think. He opens up in the highest way the
mystery of Moses' grave, completes his history by the
one golden link it wanted, and shows, that every life
which has a true regard to God and to his will shall
succeed at last most evidently where it seemed to fail.
And this is the lesson from One greater than Moses.
He whose decease was accomplished at Jerusalem
ended his life in what appeared to man an utter failure, with his followers scattered, his mission rejected,
and Himself betrayed to a death of agony and shame.
Yet it was then He uttered the words " It is finished;"
then that He achieved success, and secured it for all
who are willing to take up their cross and follow Him.
Through such failures Christianity has been advancing




202   THE BURIAL OF MOSES: ITS LESSONS, ETC.
for centuries, through martyrdoms and defections, and
great stones rolled to its sepulchre, and prophecies of
extinction. But still it lives and moves forward to
the throne its Author and Lord has already reached.
The corn of wheat which dies and rises to the harvest is
its symbol, and we must take it for that of our personal
life. If we wish present success we may go seek it
elsewhere, but if we desire the strength and peace
which make a man independent of every thing but God,
we must find these in God Himself, and in making
heart and life submissive to his will. In such a life
failure is impossible unless God Himself can fail and
his moral universe prove itself a dream. Should He
give us length of days in the world, as He did to
Moses, and usefulness and honor, leaving but one
break, as break there must be, at the close, let us take
it thankfully; but if, as He appointed to his Son, He
send us defeat and disappointment, and forms of death,
all tlhrough, let us take it hopefully. There is full
compensation for failure, in every true life, and the
highest where the struggle and the loss have been the
deepest. Most comforting of all, there is reversal of
the consequences of sin when, in humble contrition
and faith, the heart has been put into the hand of the
great Healer. The shadow on earth's dial-plate is
turned back when eternal life is gained, and the sun
shall go down no more. We shall be waked up from
our grave, like Moses, to have our heart's desire, to
look on the land and on Him who is the glory in the
midst of it; nay, better still, to share it with Him, and
to know that " if we suffer with Christ it is that we
may be also glorified together."




XII.
Pots& k          itten. the  lId jsmwnt  t & the.
"And when Aaron and all the children of Israel saw Moses,
behold, the skin of his face shone: and they were afraid to come
nigh him." - EXOD. xxxiv. 30.
"And all that sat in the council, looking steadfastly on him
(Sterihen), saw his face as it had been the face of an angel." -
ACTS Vi. I5.
iH~~NN reading the account of Stephen's death and
_~fJL of the supernatural light that flushed over his
Ax(~ face, one is led to think of a similar scene in
the life of Moses, and we have put the two together
here for the sake of comparison.  To be servants of
the same God, they could scarcely be more unlike in
their history, and they show in what divers ways the
Divine Workman may use his spiritual instruments.
The life of Moses is probably the most complete of
any man's, either in the Old Testament or the New,a great, noble, growing life to the very end, and most
clearly and graphically depicted in the Word of God.
But not a single ray of light falls upon his death, and




204            MOSES AND STEPHEN:
no man attends his funeral. We only know that it was
well cared for; " the Lord buried him."
Of the life of Stephen we know almost as little as of
the death of Moses. But his last hours stand before
us distinct and bright, and no nobler funeral, among
men, could be described than by those few words,
" And devout men carried Stephen to his burial, and
made great lamentation over him."
So unlike in other things, they have this in common,
that each of them, on a great occasion, had a transfiguration of the ordinary life, which was visible to all
around, and these two events, in their resemblances
and contrasts, invite our thought. We venture to call
this visible change transfiguration, although that word
may seem consecrated to a greater event. Each of
them has the same character with that of Christ. It
is the reflection by the earthly life of the vision of God
when He comes very near, and we may believe that
the Lord who shares the heavenly reality with his servants is not unwilling to divide with them the name.
In setting these transfigurations over against one
another, we have no thought of comparing the two men.
Stephen fills a small range in the book of God beside
Moses. There is no grander character among all the
great men of the Bible than the legislator of Israel.
Such magnanimity, such power of faith and patience,
such a work to do, second only to one other, and such
a performance of it! On the other hand, the most
remarkable thing about Stephen's life is his manner
of laying it down. He starts up suddenly from obscurity into the glory of a martyr's death, and is carried
as visibly to heaven as if we saw the chariot of fire.




THE OLD TESTAMENT AND,THE NEW.    205
We shall seek to compare these men, not in their
own lives, but in the periods to which they belong in
God's revelation. It is the tendency of all history to
be typical. We read it very inattentively if we do not
see that it is constantly throwing itself up into representative men and events. This is the tendency, above
all, of Divine history, for God's providence guides it in
a special manner outwardly, and God's Spirit breathes
through it all, with a grand unity of aspiration, to one
central event. That there should be types in such a
history is most natural. The more attentively we study
these two incidents, the more we shall see that they
have much in common, as both men belong to the same
divine mould, and yet much in contrast, as they belong
to ages and dispensations wide apart. We shall perceive, in this way, the marvellous progress that was
made in unfolding God's truth from the opening of the
law under Moses to the commencement of the gospel
era in the time of Stephen. How much deeper and
wider and nobler the latter view is, will appear if we
look intelligently on the light which shines in the faces
of these two men of God.
I. We may compare that view of God which is reflected
from the face of each of them.
They had both of them a Divine vision before their
eye which caused the transfiguration. In the case of
Moses, it was what is termed (Exod. xxxiii. 18, 22)
" God's glory," - an appearance like that which was
seen by him in the bush, and which hovered, as the
Shechinah, over the mercy-seat — but brighter and
fuller, as it was granted in more special favor. It




206            MOSES AND STEPHEN:
was without any definite form, for one fixed aim of that
dispensation was to withdraw the minds of the worshippers from the tendency to shut up God in figures made
with hands. We are told, indeed (Exod. xxxiii. 11),
that " the Lord spake to Moses face to face;" but that
this language is figurative appears from verse 20,
"Thou canst not see my face, for there shall no man see
Me and live." It was the glancing skirts of the Divine
raiment which Moses discerned, not an open countenance nor intelligent look. It was a great and significant vision, doubtless, raising the Mosaic system at
once above all the religions of the nations, and proclaiming that there is one God, who is light, and who
yet can visit man in love. For corresponding to this
vision came the voice with it (Exod. xxxiv. 6, 7),
"Keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and
transgression and sin, and that will by no means clear
the guilty." There -was much that was reassuring in
it, but much also that was doubtful. It revealed the
purity of God, but the image had no distinct features;
and it promised mercy, but the way of pardon was not
made plain.
We may turn now to the object presented to the eye
of Stephen (Acts vii. 55): " Being full of the Holy
Ghost, he looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw
the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right
hand of God." The glory, which Moses beheld like a
bright cloud, has now opened its bosom, and, issuing
from it, there is seen " God manifest in the flesh,"
" the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express
image of his person." That Stephen recognized the
true divinity of Christ is clear from verse 59. He died




THE OLD TESTAMENT AND THE NEW.        207
" calling upon" (evidently Him whose name he takes
into his lips — Christ himself.) "and saying, Lord
Jesus, receive my spirit."  He addresses the very
words to Christ which Christ himself in dying addressed to the Father. And now the purity which in
the day of Moseshllad no distinct features has formed
itself into the countenance of the Son of God, and the
mysterious mercy descends from God's throne by a
new and living way, in the person of the God-mai
Mediator, Jesus Christ our Lord. The glory of God
has outlined and fulfilled itself perfectly in the pure
and spotless life of Christ, and brings ii- into the immediate presence of God with the words, "He that
hath seen Me hath seen the Father."'   "Let this mind
be in you which was also in Christ Jesus." And yet
that life suffices not without the death as the door by
which we are to reach it. It is a Saviour risen from
the cross and grave whom Stephen sees; for " the God
of peace brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus,
that great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of
the everlasting covenant," " who his own self bare our
sins in his own body on the tree, that we being dead
to sins should live unto righteousness; by whose
stripes ye were healed."
These, then, were the views of God presented to
Moses and Stephen. That the first was in the same
line with the second cannot be doubted if we believe in
the unity of the Bible and in the plan of God running
through all the ages. It would be impossible to invert
these views, for there was a fitness in their order. It
was necessary that God should present Himself first in
his supremacy, apart from the lords many and gods




208            MOSES AND STEPHEN:
many of Gentile worship, with an infinite majesty and
purity before which the soul must bow down in deepest
reverence. It was needful not less that through the
cloud, dark with excess of brightness, softer rays
should fall to tell of pardon in some wondrous way,
else " the spirit would have failed before Him, and the
souls that He has made."  When Moses bowed before
that revelation he bowed implicitly before Christ, for
He was enshrined in it, like the mercy-seat in the most
holy place, and it was his voice, though Moses knew it
not, which declared the name of God.
But, thereafter, came the time when love could be
fully disclosed; first the earthquake and the thunder,
and following them the still small voice, - for mercy
can only grow when reverence has prepared the soil.
In Stephen's vision this full revelation appears;- God
coming near in human form and in the fulness of compassion to human sin and suffering — taking our nature upon Him for sympathy and our sin upon Him
for salvation. From the glory that shone upon the
Mount there comes forth the Son of God, the Father's
likeness; — for the voice of the unseen there is the
incarnate Word - and purity and pardon meet in harmony in the great God our Saviour Jesus Christ.
II. We may compare the effect of the view on the immediate witnesses.
In the case of Moses, the effect was mainly, if not
entirely, an external brightness. So we may infer:
"the skin of his face shone."  Its beauty had something of terror with it. Those who were near could
not bear its open look, and required to have it veiled.




THE OLD TESTAMENT AND THE NEW.         209
Withal, it lay more on the surface than in the soul,
and had more of outward brilliance than deep spiritual
expression.
We are not from this to suppose that there was no
religious fervor in the heart of Moses, or that his character wanted spiritual depth. All his life shows the
reverse. But then he stood here, not as a person, but
as the representative of a system, and, however some
might rise above it, the general character of that system
was not profound spirituality. It wrought more by
outward reflection than inward development, or, at
least, the development was latent and slow, and was
far from appearing in the whole nature. In order to
see this, we have but to think of what sad stains and
inconsistencies mark the history of some of its best
members, and how ready the great mass of its adherents were to cast aside its profession in the hour of
trial. If their religion had been a deep, pervading thing,
possessing all the soul, and rising from this into outward expression, it could never have been so fitful. In
some few, it was a strong reality; but, in the majority,
their religion was an illumination cast on them  from
without, -a separable and perishable surface thing.
The illumination on the face of Stephenl is described
as something entirely different.  There may have been
an external brightness, for the soul cannot merely
speak through the face, - it can lighten it up. But,
if so, it was a briglltness that came from the action of
the soul itself- It was the glow and grandeur of the
spirit that rose uip!and looked out through the countenance, until "they saw his face as it had been the face
of an angel "
14




210            MOSES AND STEPHEN:
And here it may be observed, that the New Testament has changed even our idea of the angelic appearance.  In the Old Testament, the conception is one
simply of brightness; but, to us, it is one of beauty.
The radiance comes from the soul; and the beginning
of that ideal, which painters and poets have ever since
sought to realize, — the spirit-expression shining out
through the countenance,- may be found in such a
description as is here given of the first Christian
martyr.
That it was more of Divine expression in the face,
than of supernatural brightness, is seen in the conduct
of the beholders. It is said, "the children of Israel
were afraid to come nigh Moses, his face so shone;"
but "all that sat in the council looked steadfastly at
Stephen." The appearance did not out-dazzle or overawe them. It merely attracted, and, for the moment,
arrested them. It did not turn them from their purpose, -their passion was too fierce; but it brought
them to a pause, imprinted itself upon them, and - may
we not suppose?- came back in waking thoughts and
nightly dreams, and deserted some of them never till
they saw it again before the throne of God.
For there is this difference further between mere
brightness of face and the beauty of the soul which
beams through it, that the one is seen entire at first,
and grows no more. It tends constantly to fade, and
must fade to us, even though it rem'ins. in itself the
same. But the soul's expression'-1    evermore as
we gaze into it; and it is in r, ence, above all,
that it rises to its perfect ideal. -'Itwas this angelic
beauty which shone in the face of Stephen, and it was




THE OLD TESTAMENT AND THE NEW.    211
there because of the object he looked upon.  "His
eyes were beautiful," if we may adapt to the case the
expression of a poet, " because you saw that they saw
Christ." There was a look passing beyond this world
into another, so forgetful of all around, so absorbed in
what he beheld, so full of reverence and love for the
Saviour who met his gaze, of pity and forgiveness for
his persecutors, that Christ himself can be read in that
look, —the very Christ who suffered so meekly and
magnanimously, and whose visible image is now reflected from the soul of his martyred servant, as he
kneels down, and cries, "Lord, lay not this sin to
their charge! " and, having said this, falls asleep.
Now, these two forms of transfiguration belong each
to its own period, as does the view of God from which
they spring. The one is bright, but formless; the
shadow of the Shechinah on him who sees it; and inspiring even its friends with awe, till they can look no
longer. The other is the beauty of the soul that has
beheld Christ, distinct and expressive, reflecting his
divine purity and tenderness, so mild that even those
who hate it cannot choose but look and wonder; and,
when they would thrust it from the world, must stop
their ears upon the voice of Stephen, and summon
blind passion to do its work.
III. We may compare the crisis of life in which each
of these transfigurations occurred.
In the history of Moses, it was in the fulness of his
power and success as a Divine messenger. Great
through his whole history, he had never been so great
to the eye of man as at this moment. He had con



212            MOSES AND STEPHEN:
fronted the proudest monarch of the ancient world,
unarmed save with the strength of right and of confidence in God. He had scattered, as God's vicegerent,
disaster upon all opposition, and had led through the
Red Sea an oppressed and terror-stricken nation, to
breathe into them a new life. He had been admitted
amid scenes that, for outward grandeur, still stand
unparalleled, into the closest intercourse with God,
to hold converse with Him as a friend, and to receive
from his lips those laws which were to fit his people
for being the depository of spiritual truth to the world.
Never was such honor set upon mortal man, and, in
its highest hour, lie bears the sign of it. He has
looked on the brightness that betokens God's special
presence, and, all unconscious, he has caught its radiance. It is there, like God's mark on his forehead,
to tell where he has been, and with whom.
This hour of his success as a Divine agent is also
in the very height of his natural and intellectual life.
Many men gain their heart's desire, as God's servants,
only to die; and many seem taken away both in "the
mid-time of their days," and the mid-time of their
work. Before Moses, there lay stretched out years of
usefulness and honor, which took their character, and
bore their results, from this crowning period. If he
had many and sore trials awaiting him, he had corresponding joys, with that sense of work achieved,
which, to a right man, is both the fruit of life and its
fragrance. We know not of any human life which has
so resplendent a token of Divine favor set in its centre,
and which extends back and forward into such noble
performance.




THE OLD TESTAMENT AND THE NEW.          213
The transfiguration of Stephen presents the most
striking contrast. He is placed, as a criminal, before
those who sat in Moses' seat, and is charged with
breaking in pieces the law which Moses gave. He has
done nothing to shake the earth with wonder, or fix
on him the gaze of kings and nations. He professes
only to be a humble follower of One who died on a
cross, amid abandonment and reproach; and, to himself, scorn and hatred are being measured out in that
same name. A cruel and ignominious death looks
him full in the face, without an earthly friend to comfort him, or say, " Well done." There could not
easily be a crisis more unlike the other; and it is this
which, under the Gospel dawn, God has chosen for
setting his illuminating seal upon the face of his
servant.
"He heeded not reviling tones,
Nor sold his heart to idle moans,
Though scorned and mocked and bruised with stones.
"But, looking upward, full of grace,
He prayed, and from a happy place,
God's glory smote him on the face."
But the transfiguration of Stephen, to a discerning
eye, is far grander than that of Moses. The one is
impressed with the temporal and external magnificence
of the Old Testament,- the other full of the spiritual
glory of the New, which begins with a death as the salvation of the world, and shows us the shame of the cross
on its way to become the brightest crown in the universe. It is more honoring to the power of God to
see it not merely sustaining a man in such terrible
extremity, but glorifying him, and bringing out from




214             MOSES AND STEPHEN:
his soul such a radiant joy into his face that men the
most hostile are for the moment arrested.
It is, indeed, most significant, that while, in the
Old Testament, the approving light of God falls upon
his servant in the midst of life, in the New it descends
in the presence of death. It crowns him conqueror
after a course of labor very ardent but very brief.
This is in accordance with that higher view of life
which is now opened up, which prolongs itself into the
eternal world, and makes us feel that, however short
and narrow our sphere, if we are only faithful to God
in that which is least, there is no failure and no break,
but full time to carry on the work which is here interrupted and to reach all the results that now seem lost.
The contrast in the crisis of the illumination becomes
thus as clear as in its source and form. It brings out
the new view which the Gospel gives of man's life and
of the part which suffering and death may have to
perform in it. The worshippers of success can make
their choice here between the triumphant persecutors
and what has been termed the " irresistible might of
weakness." The centuries of Christianity have pronounced their decision, and Christ long ago gave his
when his approving smile was reflected from Stephen's
face.
Among God's servants, those who fail in the outward life may rise to the highest rank in the spiritual,
and the fore-glancing tokens of it can be granted here.
There is a greater sight than Moses coming down from
the burning mount with Divine brightness on his
countenance, when the followers of Christ mount the
scaffold and the fiery pile, sublimed by his grace till




THE OLD TESTAMENT AND THE NEW.    215
they appear men no more, but angels of God. And, in
our own time, when many speak of spiritual power as
dead, God lets us see how He can lighten the dark valley
with his presence, and make his most beautiful gems
sparkle in the coronet of death. He reveals to us in
our Christian friends oftentimes such a beauty and
tenderness of soul in the hour of parting, that we call
see they were directing their look clear into the heavenly world, and we walking with angels unaware.
IV. We may compare the effects on the surrounding
spectators.
The impression made on the Israelites by the view
of Moses was at first very great. They were filled
with awe for him as God's messenger, and offered willingly of their treasure to God's cause. A growth of
obedient homage took place that was rarely equalled
in their history. But it had not much depth, and
soon withered away. They had seen many more wonders in Egypt, and had equally forgotten them. They
went on to murmur against God and against Moses,
in a way that would make their history utterly unaccountable, if we did not see how, in every age, men
can cast into easy forgetfulness the most striking demonstrations of the Divine justice and power.
In the case of Stephen, it may seem as if the impression were still less. Those who saw his face as it had
been that of an angel, did not spare his life. They
stopped their ears against his words, rushed on him
and stoned him to death. But we know how a look
lives years after the face is hidden in the grave, and
how it rises in calm majesty to reprove and attract,




216            MOSES AND STEPHEN:
after all the storms of passion have passed away. We
call scarcely doubt it was so here. We know of one
who was consenting to his death, and who kept the
clothes of them  that stoned him.  We know  too
of the wonderful transformation that entered into him,
and how he sprung up, as if by creation, to preach the
Gospel he formerly persecuted, and face the tortures
and deaths he had once inflicted. Can we question
that the look of Stephen burned its impression into
the heart of Paul, and that from the martyr's death
the living preacher rose with an angel's power and
zeal? The meekness and courage of the dead did not
die with him, for there is a " resurrection of witnesses " all through the history of the Church, and, in the
labors and successes of Paul, Stephen will be acknowledged to have his share in the great day of God. It is
no solitary instance of the ashes of the martyr becoming the seed of the Cliurch, and how the shortest life
can be made a lonig one, and the earliest death never
untimely, if they be dedicated to a true and noble end.
Now, here again these results are entirely characteristic of the two systems. The Old Testament began
with outward demonstrations of the most striking kind,
and they were needful in their time and place. But,
as mere outward demonstrations, their effects were
transitory. They served a purpose only as they helped
the introduction of spiritual principles, in some such
way as thunder accompanies spring showers, where the
power lies not in the peal or the tremor, but in influences more gentle and less marked. Even in that
ancient dispensation a practised ear can hear the
words all through -" Not by might nor by power, but




THE OLD TESTAMENT AND THE NEW.        217
by my Spirit, saith the Lord." And, ill the New Testament, this mode of working becomes fully apparent.
It begins with the death of Christ as the grand means
by which men are to be drawn to God, a death which
has an infinite value as an atoning sacrifice, but also
an exhaustless power as an attractive force. It manifests its real strength in the meekness and patience of
its humblest. followers- in their calmness ill trial
their fortitude in danger — their forgiving spirit to
their enemies - their unquenched hope in the presence
of death. These are the moral miracles of the New
Testament; as they abound the Gospel will progress,
and were they but restored, as at the beginning, we
could look back without a sigh to the time when God's
immediate presence was proclaimed by all the powers
of nature. Outward demonstrations have their use,
but they are only the band of clay round the young
graft to keep it safe till the current of inner life has
established itself.
Besides the effect on the first spectators, we have to
think of what these events are to us at this day. The
transfiguration of Moses comes to us as a thing of testimony, and is separated from us by a gulf of more than
thirty centuries. That of Stephen is always a thing of
the present, filled with a fresh life which touches our
deepest nature whenever we look on it. Material scenes
of the highest grandeur live only in the pages of history; they need to appeal to us by an outward verification, and they become dimmer as distance intervenes.
But spiritual greatness is everlastingly new, and we
can be as closely in its presence as when it first appeared in the world. Nay, we may come closer to it




218            MOSES AND STEPHEN:
than the first spectators. As the prejudices of their
position fall away, and as time tests it and brings out
its reality, we see and feel more of its ever-during
power. It is like a lofty mountain, which needs the
interval of distance to let us measure its height. Of
this kind are all the moral evidences of the truth of
the Gospel, all the signs of the higher life which then
entered the world, which never become old with years,
but renew themselves in us as we open our souls to
them. To this the form of the dying Stephen belongs;
not the angelic face alone, but the angelic spirit of
which it was the index, a thing which never appeared
in the world till Christ was heard of, and which true
Christianity alone can reproduce. The canvas of that
picture never decays, the dust of time does not gather
on the features. It is no picture, for we may come and
feel the life in it while we look, and share it as we gaze
on the great object of his view. So true is it that we
are come even now " to spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of the New Covenant."
V. We may compare the permanence of the transfigurations in the subjects of them.
There are sonle who think that the brightness in the
face of Moses lasted till he died, but for this supposition there is not the slightest ground. It faded away
into the light of ordinary life as he receded from the
great vision, and long ere his countenance was darkened in death it had become as the face of other men.
It partook in this of the transitory character of the dispensation to which he belonged, and had its brightest
light turned to our world.




THE OLD TESTAMENT AND THE NEW.    219
In Stephen it was no passing glimmer of a setting
sun, but that lustre in the morning clouds which shows
him before he is above the horizon, and which is lost
only in perfect day. Moses was descending the hill of
God with a brightness which was continually dying:
Stephen was ascending the higher mount with a glory
growing to all eternity. The death of Stephen is the
New Testament translation, and he is to be set as the
third with Enoch and Elijah, only higher, inasmuch as
each manifestation of God rises while time moves on.
It is a greater thing to overcome death than to be
carried past it, and here it is no fire-chariot which lifts
to heaven, but the outstretched hand of Christ, according to his own word, " I will come and receive you
unto Myself, that where I am there ye may be also."
In the death of Stephen it is intended that we should
see how thin the veil is between the two worlds, - how
the Lord stands on the very confine, sending across
his look and arm and voice, so that ere his servant left
the earth he saw his heavenly Master, heard his words,
and returned his smile.
Nor, we may well believe, is that vision of tile Saviour
in the dying hour so unusual. When Christ and
heaven are disclosed in the Bible, it is only the curtain
cast back from what is all around us at this present
time, and even yet, when a saint passes through, the
folds may be relaxed a little, and some rays permitted
to shine forth that we may guess at the brightness beyond. The calmness and tender sweetness of the
dying hour, the faith and patience and hope, are most
evident tokens of the presence of Christ's Spirit; but
may not the smile of more than human joy, the glow




220            MOSES' AND STEPHEN.
which sometimes suffuses the countenance till it is seen
like the face of an angel, be the reflection of the look
of Christ Himself, and the first faint ripple of the waves
of unutterable glory that are beginning to touch the
feet and sparkle in the eyes of the awakening soul?
Most sure, to those who have witnessed it, is the conviction that there must be light beyond, that this gleam
is not from death's darkness but God's own day, and
may well be encouragement to us " to hope in his word,
and to wait for the Lord more than they that watch
for the morning; yea, more than they that watch for
the morning."




XIII.
jaiths bppvoach  to  4Ert
(ADDRESS BEFORE COMMUNION).
" For she said within herself, If I may but touch his garment, I
shall be whole." - MATT. ix. 21.'NE always loves to think of the surrounding
circumstances of this miracle- Christ called
to the ruler's house filled with mourning and
death, with his heart absorbed in the great work which
lay before Him, the first of the glancing proofs that He
is to give that He is the resurrection and the life.
The thronging press of the people is around Him,
curious and expectant. But nothing far off or near,
future or present, can shut out from Him the appeal
of misery. He is, always and everywhere, alive to
a suppliant's touch.  His very garment, to its hem, is
instinct with his own spirit and sensitive to the most
trembling hand.
It is not less so now far up in heaven. The place
which increases the sympathy of all hearts that enter
there, has not diminished his. His garment, wide



222        FAITH'S APPROACH TO CHRIST.
spread and dropping low, is near our hand, and He
feels a sinner's and a sufferer's touch upon his throne,
with circle on circle of glory gathering round Him,
and saints and angels thronging in. He came down
that, in his nearness to our misery, we might learn to
know his heart, and He rose that we might be assured
of his power to help and heal. So let us seek to read
this incident and consider what it teaches.
FAITH COMES WITH A DEEP DESPAIR OF ALL OTHER
HELP BUT CHRISTS.
This woman had tried many means for many years.
All that she possessed she had given, all that man will
do for health she had done. She is not the better, but
rather the worse. Hope had departed, which the poor
sufferer surrenders last of all, and she is left to drag
about a weary burden, and to feel that death only can
unbind it.
But all this weakening of nature's hopes is that faith
may rise to a hope above nature, -to its Lord and
God. Had these past years of disappointment not
brought her to the verge of despair, the great Physician
would have been unsought.
Thus God will let the sinner or the sufferer wander
on and try all other ways of cure, not to tantalize him
with shadows, but to lead him through them to the
great reality. He lets the prodigal go far away and
deep down among the swine and the husks, and make
experience of all man's friendships, such as they are in
his poor circle, and find them all hollow and heartless,
that his Father's house and face may rise glowing
before him, in the depth of his darkness, and he be




FAITH'S APPROACH TO CHRIST.        223
driven to know them as never before. So he has suffered thee perhaps to wander and exhaust all thy
strength and hope, sometimes on the world's pleasures, sometimes its moralities, sometimes on its business, sometimes its philosophy, and still to find the
burden and the sore and the void, till, wearied in the
greatness of thy way, toil-worn and travel-sick, thou
sayest, " There is no hope," that out of thy despair this
hope may rise like the morning-star out of black
night. All other physicians have been tried, and thou
liest in thy blood, that this question may be stirred, —
" Is there not balm in Gilead, is there not a physician
there? "  Bless God for all failures if this vision at
last rises, - for despair itself, if such a hope is its
child, — for be sure that in God's world there are
never shadows but there is a reality from which they
fall, and never failures in the soul's highest longings,
~but that they are steps to God if the soul struggles on.
Let thy sin and sickness and sore lead to this name,
"I am the Lord that healeth thee."
FAITH HAS A DIVINE POWER TO DISCOVER CHRIST.
We cannot tell what brought the woman to Him.
It was in the beginning of his work, and we hear of
no cure like hers before, none of any disease so deep
and long seated. Her ignorance and weakness, too,
were great, and profound reasoning was not in her
sphere of things. There was something in his look,
his words, his whole personality, that drew  her to
Him, she could not tell why. But she goes. "If I
may but touch, I shall be whole," -"I feel it, I
know it."




224        FAITH S APPROACH TO CHRIST.
And faith often goes so to Christ, straight to the
mark like a driven arrow, —with grounds for going
that it cannot tell well to others, or tell even to itself.
There is all intuition that has reasons in its heart, and
that will be able to bring them out full and clear one
day —a groping half-blind, which will yet find enlightened eyes, - a sense of misery, of sin, urged to
Him by a divine necessity: " Lord, to whom shall we
go? thou hast the words of eternal life."
Can you tell why the needle trembles to the pole?
the buds feel their way to the spring? the flowers to
sunlight? They are made for it, and souls are so
made for Christ. He created them, loved them, died
for them, and, when He comes near, they feel his
presence and cannot live without Him. Would you
know, deeper down, the ground of this? It is his
whisper in the heart which has reached them: "My
sheep hear my voice." -" Jesus saith unto her, Mary.
She turned herself and saith unto him, Rabboni, which
is to say, Master." Our appeal is only a response.
The cure began with this woman before she touched.
His arm guided hers. His strength sustained her
weakness. His lips whisper to the soul, " Let us arise
and go unto our Father;" and when we awake from
our earthly sleep and see all things clear, we shall
perceive that He was with us in all our best purposes,
in our choosing and chosen hours; " God was in this
place, and I knew it not." -" Did not our heart burn
within us, while he talked with us by the way?" It
gives the assurance of final success in all who long for
the healing of the soul, for where that soul feels its
need and seeks a Christ, it is Christ who is there, leading it to Himself.




FAITH'S APPROACH TO CHRIST.       225
FAITH COMES WITH AN IMPLICIT TRUST IN CHRIST.
There were many things wanting and wrong in this
woman's knowledge, but her faith was very full and
absolute. Up to the measure of what she needed,
her confidence was entire. Her faith is implicit in a
perfect cure: "I shall be, not better, but whole." It
is implicit in' his ability: " If I may but touch his
garment." -" The least contact with Him gives me all
I need." How great the physician who could pour so
complete a remedy through communication so slight!
Such implicit faith be ours! that up to the felt
measure of our necessity we should trust Christ with
it all, and, when we discover more, trust Him with the
increase, that, with the growing sense of our sickness,
we should believe there is power in Him to heal guilt
and sorrow, and disappointment and doubt, and death
itself — that we shall yet be made whole. This requires faith, and seems to require it more the longer
that we live. Yet He will bestow this also. The faith
is the promised gift of Him from whom it looks for the
cure. "Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief."
And that our faith should be implicit in the ease
with which He can accomplish it! A touch, a word,
a thought from Him can do it. " Lord, if thou wilt,
thou canst make me clean." -" Speak the word only,
and thy servant shall be made whole." For cures
come from Christ as water from a fountain, light from
the sun, life from the great God. They are the natural
emanations that radiate from Him, hindered only by
the obstructions which we interpose. If we could but
realize this, in its full certainty, that the God who
made us wills not our death, and that the Son of God
15




226        FAITH'S APPROACH TO CHRIST.
is in our world to be the assurance and channel of
this blessed will, delighting to do it, with what confidence might we draw near and receive out of his fulness grace for grace! If all hope for the soul were
dead elsewhere, only that it might live in Him as all
our salvation -" Other refuge have I none, hangs my
helpless soul on thee "- then would come the experience of those words, "My God shall supply all your
need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus."
FAITH SEEKS, FOR ITS COMFORT, CLOSE CONTACT WITH
CHRIST.
"If I may but touch."  There is a trait of nature
in this which gives us a sense of kinship. The heart
seeks to press close to the Healer, as a sick child to its
mother's breast. It is the instinct of suffering which
Christ himself has sanctioned. He took by the hand
her who was sick of the fever; He touched the blind
man's eyes, and put his fingers in the deaf man's ears.
The sufferer and the Saviour must be felt to be in contact, as necessary to our power to lay hold, if not to
his ability to help.
It is in accordance with this that God weaves his
attributes, the tokens of his presence, into all the
works of his hands. He spreads his vesture abroad
in creation, and brings it close to our touch, instinct
with his being, that we may feel and grasp the God in
whom we live and move, and know him to be, not a
mere abstraction, but a God near and ever present.
The incorporation of God in external nature is a step
to his incarnation in human nature. It leads to that
mysteriously intimate approach to us, when as "the




FAITH'S APPROACH TO CHRIST.       227
children are partakers of flesh and blood," the eternal
Son also "took part of the same."  He put on the
garment of humanity, and drew near in person, that
we might clasp Him as a kinsman in our arms, and
feel the infinite One to be our own. Our fallen nature
made it needful that He should come closer still. He
became the partaker of suffering and shame that we
might touch Him in the sympathy of our hearts, and
feel that, in like manner, He can touch us and be
afflicted in all our afflictions. Nay more, He became
sin for us, and bore it in our stead, that his healing
touch might reach our conscience, and that we may
have the assurance that He can be present to help in
the deepest guilt and darkness of the soul.
The history of all God's dealings with man is the
record of an approach nearer still, and nearer, until, in
the incarnate Son, He shares all our sorrows, and
carries our sins, till faith puts its fingers into the print
of the nails, its hand into the wounded side, and constrains us to cry, " My Lord, and my God."
So does He approach man, for man's heart thus
yearns to draw near to Him —to a living God, to a
personal Saviour.  We need this.  We can believe
a truth, but we can trust only a person, - we canl
admire a truth, we can love only a person, - we can
meditate on a truth, we can commune only with a person, and faith stretches out a wistful hand to touch his
garment that it may come at last to embrace Himself.
FAITH, WITH ALL ITS IMPERFECTIONS, IS ACCEPTED BY
CHRIST.
How imperfect this woman's faith was you can see.




228        FAITH'S APPROACH TO CHRIST.
She thought she could be cured, and He not know.
She imagined He healed by a sort of nature, not by a
conscious act of will. In many, faith may be weak
and ignorant, but touching Christ it is forgiven much.
Like Samson, it is so full of faults and failure in itself,
but when it turns to God, a divine power comes to it
in its hour of need; and is not this the lesson of that
strange Old Testament history?
What an encouragement to come to Christ truly,
though it may be feebly, though conscious of many
defects in our knowledge, creeping where we cannot
walk, touching where we cannot lay hold! " He will
not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking
flax." And this gives us the hope that if a man really
trusts God for one thing, he will be led on to more,
from body to soul, from time to eternity. If we read
rightly the 11th chapter of the Epistle to the Hebrews,
we shall see that the Apostle teaches this. Those believers of the ancient Church cast themselves on God
in some one crisis of their life, and this established
the connection for ever. And if a man really and
truly accepts of Christ, in one part of his saving character, he will be led on, by the grace of God, to accept
him in all. For Christ is one, and instinct in every
part of his nature with the life that heals. Let us
thank God if we feel in ourselves, or see in any man,
a thorough faith in some one side of the helping and
healing power of the Son of God. It is no reason why
we should rest in what is partial, but abundant reason
why we should be encouraged to maintain our hold.
If we grasp the garment-hem we shall bring Him to
turn the face, and to say, " Be of good comfort, thy
faith hath made thee whole."




FAITH'S APPROACH TO CHRIST.       229
FAITH FEELS A CHANGE FROM THE TOUCH OF CHRIST.
"And she felt in her body that she was healed"
(Mark v. 29). There was an inward sense, which
could not be mistaken, of return to wholeness —the
stanching of a wound through which life, for long years,
had been slowly ebbing, and the rising of a tide of new
existence which made her feel she could yet be, and do
something, in God's world. It is almost worth years
of weary wasting to have one hour of the blessed consciousness. The dew of youth comes back, the world
seems to put on sunshine and spring-time in sympathy,
as if God were making it all anew, and the main, who
was lying like a crushed and helpless worm, rejoices
in the thought of the hard duties and heavy burdens
which come to try his fresh-created strength.
When faith, under a sense of its need, touches
Christ, the virtue that comes from Him  gives some
such feeling to the soul. When that great transference of sin and spiritual sickness is made to the
Saviour the soul is safe, entirely and eternally safe,
through the grace of Him who will keep that soul
which we commit to his trust, and who will never
suffer any one to pluck it out of his hand. There is a
crisis of this kind in every spiritual history, if the new
life is to begin, - some turning-point in the disease
where it sets in to hope and health! We do not say
that, in the spiritual frame, there is always the same
full and immediate sense of it. In most cases not, for
the soul's recovery is very gradual and fitful, even
though it is sure, and, in some cases, the struggle of
doubt is part of the process through which it gains at
last its highest power. But this will prevail in the




230        FAITH'S APPROACH TO CHRIST.
midst of all, — a feeling of change, — of something
new and hopeful, when Christ is looked to and leaned
upon — a sense of contact with a power out of, and
above, the world, which call give life and courage for
the soul's sorest battles, and which whispers to it, often
with sure conviction, that it shall prevail.
There are men in whose presence you feel strength
and comfort, whose look and words are like a reinforcement to turn the battle from the gate. Have you this
feeling, above all, when your heart rises to the thought
of that august and godlike Presence, when it seeks
that "blessed and gracious face? " Then take courage. The pressing throng of doubts and fears, of
worldly cares and temptations, may thrust aside, at
times, the hand that touches, but do not turn away.
"In returning and rest shall ye be saved!"  The
thrill of life which comes from Him tells of far more
yet to be gained, — " He is come that we might have
life, and that we might have it more abundantly." He
will bring not only into contact with his garment but
with his heart, and then the peace that fills it, and the
joy that overflows it, shall be the portion of those who
lay hold of Him. They shall know " the love of Christ
which passeth knowledge, that they may be filled with
all the fulness of God! "
For this end Christ has entered the world, that He
may make man the heir of God and God the heritage
of man. He stands before us more clearly now, that
He may assure us of it. He has borne the penalty of
sin, has passed through death in our nature, and has
risen above it, bearing those marks of his suffering
which prove his continued share in our humanity and




FAITH'S APPROACH TO CHRIST.      231
his everlasting sympathy with us. " Behold my hands
and my feet, that it is I myself: handle me and see."
And He shows us his hands and his feet.
At a communion-table it would, seem as if the
Saviour were bringing his garment-hem nearer to our
hand, that touch may aid faith, and his person stand
before us through visible memorials. Our eyes are
made to see, our hands to handle, and our lips to taste,
the Word of life, that He, whose we are, may enter
our soul by every gate-way, and take our nature into
full possession.
Christ is now, as He was then, passing through the
midst of men, if they would but see Him. Still, they
throng and press and draw nothing from Him, because
they bring no eye to discern, and do not feel that need
which opens the eyesight. We can take from Him
only what we perceive in Him, and must urge the
prayer that " God would reveal his Son in us! "
For this, too, Hle las provided. Though the Head
be far away, by his Spirit He comes near. " He shall
take of mine and show it unto you."  It is the holy oil,
poured on the head, which descends even to the skirts
of his garments, to his border's utmost hem, to every
symbol and to every suppliant, to put healing power
into the fainting heart, and to " fill the house with the
odor of the ointment."
It is our hope and joy to think, as we touch Him
here, with the hands of dying men, that He is still, as
once before, passing on through the world to perform
his greatest work - to raise the dead. Many a home
like that of Jairus looks for his appearing. Himself
the Risen One, He is advancing to awake his friends




232        FAITH'S APPROACH TO CHRIST.
who have fallen asleep, and to comfort those who mourn
over them, and who wait for his coming. He spreads
his garment, meanwhile, as He moves, to the touch of
misery and sin, and if He lingers in his progress to
the homes of the dead, it is but to gather in his train
the fuller fruits of his redeeming toil. His mercy and
our need cause the seeming delay. His work on the
way must be finished ere the close can come - that
close so longed for by all fainting spirits and bereaved
hearts.  Sinner, sufferer, while thou art in the way
with Him, touch Him and follow. Ere long He will
enter that highest house, and thou possess the privilege
of the best-beloved, to enter the innermost chamber
with Him, where sorrow shall be turned into joy and
death into life, where faith which touches the hem shall
rise to vision that beholds the face, and friends who
part and weep at nightfall shall meet at day-dawn, in
a world where the voice of crying shall not be heard
any more, nor the shadow of death fall upon the heart
for ever.




XIV
)hrist not fIeasing  ~imsuI.
CHRISTIAN AND SOCIAL TOLERANCE.
" Let every one of us cIlease his neighbor for his good to edfication. For even Christ pleased not himself; but, as i't is written,
The reproaches of them that reproached thee fell on Me." —
ROMANS XV. 2, 3,
HE occasion of this very practical advice is to
be found in the previous chapter.  Some of
the Roman Christians considered the meat
that had been offered to idols unfit for Christian use,
while others of them could partake of it without
scruple. But, not contented with enjoying their own
liberty, they set themselves to indulge in mutual recrimination. The one class considered the other unconscientious, wlhile these retorted on them as weakminded.
It is a quarrel that, in some shape, has turned up
ever since. The apostle Paul belongs unmistakably
to the one side, that which saw no conscience in the
matter, but he is not devoured by a zeal to bring all
to his own mind.  He sees that there are things infi



234        CHRIST NOT PLEASING HIMSELF.
nitely more important than uniformity. Charity is
greater, and liberty. Those who cannot eat must believe in the good faith of those who can, and they who
have no scruples must refrain from taunting those who
have. Then from  the whole controversy he rises to
this great principle, which lifts the thing out of the
local and temporary, and gives it a world-wide and permanent interest.  In our intercourse with our fellowChristians or fellow-men, we are not to make our
own pleasure, but the pleasure of our neighbor, our
chief end. This is the example set by Christ, our great
Master: " He pleased not himself." The violation of
this principle has produced more unhappiness and sin
than many other things that seem at first sight more
deadly, has broken up the communion of the Church,
and the comfort of the social and family circle, and deserves, therefore, special consideration. The first thing
is to state the rule of forbearance as laid down by the
apostle; next, to show that it is illustrated by Christ's
example; and then to present some of the advantages
that would result from acting on it.
I. We shall state the rule of forbearance as laid down
by the apostle.
We are guided in this by the circumstances that led
to the statement of this principle. There were two
classes in the Roman Church who refused liberty to
others. There were the men of despotic conscience and
the men of despotic intellect; and, that we may cover
the whole ground of character, we may add to them a
third class as needing this lesson, — the men of despotic will. To one or other of these classes belongs




CHRISTIAN AND SOCIAL TOLERANCE.     235
almost every case of undue interference with Christian
and social liberty.
There are the men in whom conscience is strongly
implanted without a corresponding breadth of view,
who place duty and sill in things indifferent, and make
the way of God's commandments, which is very broad,
exceedingly narrow through restrictions that are not
his. One evil result of this is, that, by magnifying
these, by " taking tithe of mint and anise and cumin,"
the weightier matters of the law come to be neglected.
Men cannot habitually exaggerate the little, without
losing sight of the great. But the danger to which the
apostle here adverts is not to truth but freedom. Such
men can seldom be contented with prescribing to themselves. They dictate to others, make the rule of their
conscience the universal rule, and hold that there is
neither sin nor duty to any man but what they see to
be such.
There is another class, who may be called men of
despotic intellect. They have discernment enough to
see that there is really nothing in many of these questions so much disputed, but they have a want of tenderness to feel for those who have not reached their
level. They have arrived at the breadth that knowledge gives, but not at the greater breadth that comes
from wisdom and charity. There are few things more
intolerant than superior intellect, or, still more, the
fancy of superior intellect, when it is dissevered from
love and humility.  There is an impatience of the
slowness of what they consider inferior natures, an
undisguised contempt for scruples, and a reckless
pleasure in thrusting their breadth offensively forward




236        CHRIST NOT PLEASING HIMSELF.
where it is not attacked, proving themselves to be as
narrow in another way as those whom they wish to
liberalize.
We have to add to these a third class, the men of
despotic will. The despotic will may ally itself with
conscience and intellect, or it may not, and may be
founded merely on taste and temperament. It is a
disposition in some men of strong character to insist
on seeing nothing but their own domain wherever they
turn, and to think of their way not only as best for
themselves, but for every other with whom they come
into contact. Natures of this kind reverse the constitution of the chameleon, and claim to give their own
color wherever they lay themselves down. Imperiously
or gently, they seek to dictate not merely the pursuits,
but the enjoyments, of all around, and they make life
in their circle either quiet unquestioning submission,
or a constant struggle for freedom.
In all these cases, there may be much that is good,
a true homage to God in the conscience, right reason
in the intellect, a sincere desire to promote the happiness of those around them, in imposing their own will,
but, withal, there is a subtle form of self-gratification
at the root of it, a mistaken self-assertion, which does
not leave room for other natures to develop themselves
in freedom.
It may be asked if, in no case, we are warranted to
interfere with our fellow-men in such matters as these.
Most certainly we cannot remain indifferent to what
they do and are, if we have any regard for God's truth
and their welfare. Humanity, as well as Christianity,
makes a man his brother's keeper. But we should be




CHRISTIAN AND SOCIAL TOLERANCE.       237
very sure that it is regard to God's truth and another's
welfare that actuates us, and not the mere wilfulness
that seeks its own way. There are few things in which
a man needs to pray more for clearsightedness than to
be kept from confounding God's will with his own
strength of caprice, and from fancying he is seeking
another's good when he is merely anxious to see the
reflection of his own peculiarities. Even when we
have every reason to believe our cause to be just, and
our motives pure, we must deal with men as having
independent rights of their own, and we must learn to
respect these, whatever be the relationship, if we are
to gain the end we seek. If there be sin, above all,
sin that is dangerous and soul-destroying, we must
"' reprove, rebuke," though even then, " with all longsuffering;" but we should seek to feel that there is a
very broad field within this, where there is room for a
variety of temperament and action which is almost
infinite, and where each one has the same right to
choose for himself what is best. We have to learn
that, within the limits of what is not positively wrong,
every one has the right to be himself, to develop his
own nature in his own way, and that he cannot be
forced into the mould of another without losing his
capacity of highest enjoyment, and his power of greatest usefulness to his fellow-men. Our duty under God
is to be true to our own nature, but to grant this privilege also to every other, and, where we seek to influence them, to do it in accordance with the laws of their
nature.
It is frequently very hard to allow this, especially
when there are close relationships of friendship and




238        CHRIST NOT PLEASING HIMSELF.
family. Husband and wife, parents and children,
brothers and sisters, find it most difficult of all to
make allowance for each other's variety of nature, and
to remain side by side without undue interference
with one another's peculiarities. The affection they
bear each other becomes a snare to them in urging
assimilation, and the necessity of close intercourse
seems to require that there should be common tastes
and pursuits.
It is here that the further principle of this passage
comes in, that we are not merely to refrain from constraining others into our way, but, as far as we can,
we are to meet them in theirs. If there be a separation of taste, instead of compelling them to surrender,
we are to forbear, and, if the thing be harmless for
us, and it will gratify them, we are to take part in
their pursuits. If we constrain them, we violate the
law of freedom and narrow their nature, whereas if we
give way, we exercise the truest freedom —that of
self-control, and benefit our own nature in the highest
way. Constraint would become mutual repulsion and
dislike; while freedom makes the attraction equal on
both sides, and we gain more than we surrender. To
give and not to exact, to throw out feelers and tendrils
from our own stem, not to wrench the branches of
every other tree in our direction, is the true law of
united growth.
The question may arise here again — Is there no
limit to this surrender? and it is pointed out. We
are to please our neighbor "for his good to edification."
This is the end, and the end prescribes the limit. Our
great object must not be to please our neighbor, any




CHRISTIAN AND SOCIAL TOLERANCE.       239
more than to please ourselves, but to do him the highest good, and gain an influence that may lead up to
truth and duty and God.  Such a principle saves
Christian compliance from  sycophanlcy or characterlessness. It is implied in it that we can yield in nothing which would lead him to sin or impair the strength
of his spiritual nature. It is implied, moreover, that
we cannot surrender any part of our own proper nature in doing this. We must be ourselves if we are to
be useful in any way, and it can never be our duty
to sacrifice our own mental constitution, still less our
moral nature, to build up that of another. But within
these two limits, -- the indulgence of our fellow-men
in sin, and the compromise of our own true nature, -
there is ample scope for the exercise of endless charity
and compliance with each other's tastes and temperaments. The tree that has its firm-fixed root and upright stem has also its spreading branches and thousand
waving twigs, which yield to the breeze and salute the
gentlest movement of the surrounding air. How beautiful strength is, when it thus melts away at its extremities into kindliness and courtesy; and how attractive
would be firm Christian principle, when it was seen
that it could clothe itself with softness and tenderness,
and that it rises so powerful and lofty to bear up and
spread out all genial affections, like leaves and blossoms, and to have all innocent enjoyments come fluttering like birds to sing among its branches! " Strength
and beauty are in his sanctuary."
II. We have to show that this forbearance is illustrated by Christ's example.  " For even Christ pleased not




240        CHRIST NOT PLEASING HIMSELF.
himself; but, as it is written, The reproaches of them
that reproached thee fell on Me."
The quotation is from the sixty-ninth psalm, in which
the speaker is David; but the apostle takes the words
as completed in Christ.  " It is written in the psalms
concerning Him." This manner of dealing with the
psalms gives us a light to read them in. Wherever a
man is uttering a breathing of the Divine life, it is
not merely Christ that he is implicitly looking forward
to, but it is Christ that is breathing and speaking in
him. Christ's Spirit is advancing all through that Old
Testament world, in outward symbol and inward aspiration, ever more distinctly to his own personal appearance, as God manifest in the flesh.  What God is in
nature, Christ is ill that entire history, —its final end
and sustaining life. It is moved beneath by his coming, and is cast upward into events and persons that
reflect Him, and into utterances of soul that spring
from Him and seek after Him. Therefore, when David expresses this spirit of self-sacrifice, it is Christ
already in him, uttering what is true so far of David,
but true in the highest sense only of Himself.  It is
not by accommodation, then, but deep insight, that the
apostle quotes.
To prove the disinterested forbearance of Christ, he
cites a passage that shows his self-devotion to God.
He offered Himself to bear the reproach cast on that
great name, and thought nothing of self if the honor
of God was maintained. There is a broad principle
taught us also here, viz., that right action toward man
flows naturally from right feeling toward God. If selfpleasing has been sacrificed on the Divine altar, it has




CHRISTIAN AND SOCIAL TOLERANCE.       241
received its death-blow in every other form. He who
has truly, deeply, entirely given up his will to God, is
not the man to force it, harshly and capriciously, on
his fellow-men. This is what the apostle would have
us infer regarding Christ ill his human bearings.
We have to show then, as briefly as may be, that
this was a characteristic of Christ in his intercourse
with men, - forbearance and freedom. He presented
the Divine will, and pressed it oni men as the rule of
all life, but He refrained carefully from crushing their
nature in its free development; and for this very reason, that the Divine will was to Him the one only law,
and all human natures were to be made free from
bondage in serving it.
An illustration of the forbearance of Christ lies, at
the very first, in the variety of character which his
earthly life drew around it. He was pre-eminently
broad and many-sided, touching and attracting human
nature in all its aspects. His disciples represent the
extremes of temperament, from  the sanguine outspoken Peter to the quiet reflective Johlln, and within
these all the rest move and act in their own likeness.
He is never careful to stamp oni them a hard uniformity, but leaves them to their own natural development,
and aids them  in it. Then, outside this circle, we
have groups of all possible colors, - the Pharisee and
the Publicanl, Nicodenmus and Zaccheus, Malry of Bethally and Mary Magdalene, the woman by the well and
the women at the sepulchre, tile centurion beside the
cross and the thief upon it. He draws all men unto
HIim, and while there is a change in the depth of their
nature, - while a higher life is infused into them.
16




242        CHRIST NOT PLEASING HIMSELF,
it unfolds itself in every direction without constraint,
as the earth in spring-time is drawn forth into every
form and color of leaf and flower by the all-sympathetic
attraction of the sun. We do not admire enough this
generosity of mind in our great Master, so different
from that which prevails among the founders of human
systems, who cannot be satisfied unless their formulas
are repeated, and their minutest features reflected, by
all their scholars. His word " came with power," not
to stamp with the uniformity of death, but to create
the manifoldness of life. How far other the society
which gathered round Jesus of Nazareth from that
harsh spiritual despotism which Loyola sought to create
under his name!
This farther may be remarked, in the human life of
Christ, that He not merely refrained from interfering
with free growth Himself, but He interposed to defend
others when they were interfered with. His most marked
action is in behalf of liberty, and He is strongest in
rebuke when he checks the attempt of any one to thrust
his own character on another, to the destruction of its
genuineness.  What a lesson there is to contending,
narrow-minded religionists, who can see nothing good
beyond their own circle, in his answer: " Master, we
saw one casting out devils in thy name, and we forbade
him, because lie followetli not witll us " (Luke ix. 49).
"Forbid him not, for he that is not against us is for
us."  " We must not narrow," as if he had said, " the
cause of God to our own party, but rejoice in goodness
wherever it appears. If we are right, it is all coming
our way."  What an admonition to those who would
impose their own way of work upon every other when




CHRISTIAN AND SOCIAL TOLERANCE.     243
Martha's complaint is so gently but firmly met! What
a resolve to allow the heart its own manner of nmanifestation when He defends, against the murmurs of his
disciples, her who poured the box of ointment on his
head! It was her way of proving affection, and this
made it good and right, and brought forth that touch-.ing justification which is not an ingenious excuse, but
a deep, true reason: " Against the day of my burying
hath she kept this" (John xii. 7). The inspiration
of a loving heart has the gift of prophecy. Its insight
is foresight, because it is taught of God. And what a
rebuke to those who would bring down every thing that
is lovely and of good report to the hard utilitarian
measurement, and, in the pretended interest of fruit,
would strike off all the spontaneous blossoms of Christian affection!
In the whole earthly life of Christ, this feature can
be discerned, - the refusal to constrain a natural temperament, or to seek to make any one be other than
he really was, sin only excepted. In this sense, too,
" the Son makes them free, and they are free indeed."
Shall we say that He, the normal Man, had all the
features of sinless human nature within Himself, and
could therefore rejoice in them all, or that He had, with
his own distinct nature, that most sensitive sympathy,
which enabled Him to understand them every one, and
that broadest wisdom which. ave Him to know that
there can be nothing highly good which is not perfectly
true, and nothing strong which is not natural? This,
at least, is striking, that the most intense and concentrated of all natures, burning with consuming fervor
for God's honor and truth, was yet the most expansive,




244        CHRIST NOT PLEASING HIMSELF.
and so considerate and gentle as not to crush the
softest susceptibility of those about Him, like the sea
which is so mighty to shake the earth, and which holds
the most delicate flowers with all their filaments unbroken in its bosom. It is another evidence of the
Divinity of His character, that such power and freedom
were combined in one.
There is another way of looking at the forbearance
of Christ with variety of disposition, when we turn
from his earthly life to the work He carries on by his
Spirit. His withdrawal from earth in His visible
person is in favor of free Christian development, since
the very presence of a visible Lord and Lawgiver, however wise and tolerant, must tend to uniformity in the
character of his subjects. The principle of working by
his Spirit is to enter into each nature by itself, and
unfold it from its own germ and centre. It is the
lifting up and widening of the first overshadowing
canopy of his personal guidance, which was needful in
its time, into the grand arch of the heavens, beneath
which all can grow up more freely and expansively.
It is for wise reasons, in regard to Christian growth,
that a visible Head is removed from the Christian
Church, and that the liberal unconstrained movements
of faith are substituted, meanwhile, for the limitation
and fixity of sight. We can perceive how the disciples
started up into stronger, broader men, under this new
influence, and how their characters struck out on all
sides into more marked individuality.  There was
a presence of Christ to implant the first seeds, and
foster them; then a departure, that they might grow up
more freely in his absence, till through His Spirit they




CHRISTIAN AND SOCIAL TOLERANCE.       245
reach a full stature and firm character. When these
are gained, and individuality fully formed, there can
be a safe return to that closest proximity to Him,
which is their highest happiness, and where, too, they
shall feel that the law of love is perfect liberty.
These fruits of the Spirit of Christ in humanity are
of the most varied kind. How different are not merely
the apostles Peter, Paul, John, James, each with his
own view of truth, but how different the epistles of the
same apostle, caused by tile variety of development in
the churches to which they were addressed! There is
no book on earth that has such perfect harmony in it,
rising from such a variety of color and character, as
the New Testament, where all the features of human
nature and all the graces of the Christian life gather
round one centre, - the one Lord and one faith. And
though the Church of Christ has failed to learn this,
and though, by an attempt at forced uniformity, it has
rent its own unity, we can see what may be called the
breadth of view of the Great Head, in that He does not
identify Himself with their narrowness, nor confine his
reviving influences to any one portion where his truth
remains. The showers of his grace come from too high
a source to be limited by the walls they build against
each other. He is repeating down through all time
the rebuke He gave to the uncharitableness of John,
and the one-sidedness of Martha, and the murmurs of
his disciples, — is teaching us to look with an approving eye on every honest effort to do good and to take
pleasure in the wide variety of human character and
Christian grace.
Christ in his earthly life, and by his heavenly Spirit,




246        CHRIST NOT PLEASING HIMSELF.
thus carries out into a higher domain the working of
God himself in the world of nature. There is the same
freedom and the same variety, as if the Being who has
the mightiest power and most controlling will would
prove his strength by establishing, not despotism but
liberty, and by allowing all his rational creatures to
feel that, while He holds them in his hand, they belong
in the fullest sense also to themselves.
III. We have now, in the last place, to present some
of the advantages that would result from acting on this
principle.
It may seem as if in this view of the work of God in
nature, and of Christ in the Christian Church, we were
far enough from any practical connection with our
own daily life. And yet it is not so. The world is all
made on the same plan, and the laws that regulate its
moral and social state are as universal as the laws of
light and gravitation, which govern suns and stars, and
yet preside over the color and fall of a leaf. The
grandeur of the Bible consists in making us feel this.
It lets us see light in God's light. It asks us to be
children of our Father in heaven, followers of his Son,
and to study the manner in which supreme wisdom
and love act, that we may govern our conduct to others
by the same laws. If we only do so, the great forces
of the moral world are all in our favor. As God gains
his ends we shall gain ours, or, rather, we shall aid in
gaining his, and find that we have a share in them.
His forbearance toward the nature He has given us,
the law of freedom he has placed us under, the manysided development He permits, both in nature and




CHRISTIAN AND SOCIAL TOLERANCE.      247
grace; above all, the example of Christ, so free from
capricious dictation, so full of reason addressed to our
reason, and love touching our hearts, and liberty withal, - these become our guiding lights to teach us how
to deal with all around us, and give us the hope that
we shall have his help in gaining the happiest issue.
If, in Christian or social intercourse, we wish to
deliver any man from what we think error, we must
do so by putting him in the way of convincing himself.
To beat him down by unreasoning opposition, or even
by an irresistible argument, may please us, but is not
likely to gain him. There is a great chasm between
achieving a victory and making a conquest, and the
completeness of the first often prevents the last. To
respect a man's freedom, never to press him so hard as
to humiliate him, to give him the clew that may help
him to guide himself to the right, is according to the
Divine model, and would aid us in serving at the same
time both our fellow-men and the truth. How much
this is needed in the Christian Church every one can
perceive who looks around.
Again, in the family circle, it is often painful to see
minds that, from their strength of character, are fitted
to influence all around them for good, losing the power
through the over-assertion of self. Authority must
exist, but it is there only that influence may have opportunity to do its work, and when authority makes itself
felt at every turn, and pushes itself into every little
act, freedom is gone, and influence vanishes with it.
This is one cause, as much as over-remissness, why
the families of earnest men so frequently take a course
which disappoints their expectation, and why, after




248       CHRIST NOT PLEASING HIMSELF.
sullen submission, there comes sudden outbreak. Constitutional government here, as elsewhere, is the great
thing to be aimed at, - that is, firm law on certain
great essentials, but freedom within this to grow up
according to taste  and temperament.  If strong
natures with deep convictions, anxious to have them
adopted, could only be made to see this, and could
learn to control themselves, their end would be sooner
gained.  Power of character and steadfast example
have a silent, assimilating influence, which seldom fail,
unless they are thwarted by irritating interference with
natural freedom.
It should be considered, further, that if we wish those
we are influencing to become valuable for any thing, it
must be by permitting them to be themselves. They
will do very little if they turn out dead transcripts of
us. If any man is to have power either in the world
or the church, he must have independent life; and for
independent life, liberty is indispensable. We can
never sanction liberty in the way of sin, but there are
a thousand little daily acts where it will demand to be
left to itself, and where we should take pleasure in recognizing it. These are the very signs and safeguards
of the personality God has bestowed upon his creatures,
and it is only by seeking to enter into it as He does,
freely and kindly, respecting it, and conforming to it,
that we can guide it to a right end, and make it a real
power for good.
This is the only way, too, in which we can hope to
make our fellow-creatures truly our own. We cannot
give ourselves away to another, except as we feel that
we belong to ourselves. God, who is the lord and pro



CHRISTIAN AND SOCIAL TOLERANCE.      249
prietor of us all, has acted on this principle. He has put
us in a manner into our own keeping, that He may receive us back again as more his own. If we act so, and if
our friendships and family ties are constructed on this
principle, we shall have our reward in finding them
grow constantly closer and more inward. Let us seek
to have them consist, not so much in exacting as in
rendering duties, not in demanding interest but in
extending it, turning our eye outward rather than inward," looking not on our own things, but the things of
others," and then the little differences of taste and
opinion, instead of being barriers to union, will become
the instruments of it. After all, in every age and in
every class of life, sympathy is the great craving of the
human heart, and if we call be so unselfish as to forget
ourselves and show it with the peculiarities of others,
we shall be astonished at the rich return, —how cold
natures open out to a kindly presence, as flowers in
spring when the hard frost lifts its repressive hand.
This additional inducement may be mentioned, that
in pursuing such a course we shall best succeed in
elevating and broadening our own nature.  If we
could bring all around us into our own mould, we
should only have narrowed ourselves in the process of
constraining others. But, if we enter into sympathy
with their pursuits, we not merely grow in unselfishness, but add something to our intellectual nature
which was not there before. We have so much more
of humanity within us. There can be no finer instance
of the way in which we gain by yielding, and make
conquests of men and things when we seem to be led
captive.




250       CHRIST NOT PLEASING HIMSELF.
In all these considerations we have been able to
advert only incidentally to what should be the great
end of all this action. It is not to please ourselves,
but neither is it ultimately to please our neighbor. It
is to secure an influence with him for his highest good,
to bring him into the path of life and God. To
deal with this would require a separate discourse, and
we can therefore do no more than remark that friendship and family affection, most precious as they are
among earthly things, are, in the Divine view, only
channels for something nobler and more enduring, —
for infusing the love that survives earth, and forming
the ties that death cannot break. In this, too, Christ
is our great example, who illustrated this world with
self-denial, that his words and life might be strong to
point to and plead for another.
In all this work, there are needed two great qualities,
love and wisdom. Neither will suffice alone. Love in
its earnestness is often too narrow, and wisdom in its
breadth may be too cold. They are the light and heat
of the moral world, which must go together. We shall
find them also in the example of Christ- that nature,
so ardent and so large, seeking one thing, — the likeness of God in man,- but knowing that this likeness
can be reflected in many ways, that each child of the
family may have the Father's image, with its own
individuality, as every stone of the New Jerusalem will
have its own color, while the light of God is reflected
in them all.




XV.
he   anwes oAfI   and their (mforf in  od.
"' Yet the Lord will command his loving-kindness in the daytime, and in the nzght his song shall be with me, and my Prayer
zunto the God of my life." - PSALM xlii. 8.
SALMS xlii. and xliii. have so close a connection that they must be regarded as one. The
same struggle and victory pass through them,
and they are necessary to complete each other. From
external and internal evidence, they belong to David,
and to that part of his life when he was fleeing from
the face of Absalom his son.
All must recollect the touching scene when he left
his palace, crossed the brook Kidron, and " went up by
the ascent of Mount Olivet, and wept as he went up,
and had his head covered; and he went barefoot: and
all the people that was with him covered every man
his head, and they went up, weeping as they went "
(2 Sam. xv. 30). He was not so great in his youth,
crowned with Goliath's trophies, nor in manhood, when
God delivered him from the hand of Saul and set him
on the throne of Israel, as in that hour of desertion.




252           THE CHANGES OF LIFE,
It is then that the character comes forth, that faith
flames high, and the feet find their rock in God.
When we can look back on our own life, as we now do
on David's, we shall perceive that such times have been,
not the depths, but the heights, of the soul.
It is here that we can look into the heart of David,
and know how, in some measure, he was according to the
heart of God. When the priests would have borne
the ark with him into exile, the noble magnanimity, the
deep submission, of his spirit is seen. " Carry back
the ark of God," he said, " into the city; if I shall find
favor in the eyes of the Lord, He will bring me again,
and show me both it and his habitation. But if He
thus say, I have no delight in thee; behold, here am I,
let Him do to me as seemeth good unto Him! "  By
one of those strange circles of events, which have
surely in them a Divine plan, he was treading the very
soil of Gethsemane, and up through his heart there
was throbbing the spiritual life of his Son and Lord.
" Not my will, but thine be done."
It was not indifference to the ark of God that
prompted the words of David.  Banished beyond
Jordan, among the forests and cataracts of the mountain land of Gilead, where " deep calling to deep," in
the torrents around him, seemed emblems of his trials,
his heart turns to the hallowed spot, —" true as the
dial to the sun, although not shone upon." It breaks
out in every part of this song. The first verse is a
longing wish after it, the last a joyful conviction that
he shall reach it. Three times his soul is cast down
in him, and three times he rises stronger for his fall,
the onset of his faith ending like the apostle Paul's,




AND THEIR COMFORTS IN GOD.        253
"for this I prayed the Lord thrice," and, like that of a
greater still, who " prayed thrice, using the same
words."
The verse we have selected is from one of the
seasons of comfort. In the third verse he had said,
(" My tears have been my meat day and night, while
they continually say unto me, Where is thy God?"
Day and night God's hand was heavy upon him, so
that "his moisture was turned into the drought of
summer," and now he feels that day and night God's
comforts can be with him. It is wonderful when we
open these ancient books to find the identity of human
life. As men speak, we can feel the beatings of the
same heart, and see the tears upon their face, which
make us children of one family. We can see, not less,
the identity of the life that is divine, - for God's light
is shining down into their souls, and making them
strong with the strength of the Eternal. It is to make
us feel this that we have such a Bible, and it is thus
we must seek to use it.
The first thought we would draw from this verse is,
that THERE MUST BE CHANGES IN EVERY TRUE LIFE.
These changes give to life the most opposed conditions- light and darkness. There is day, and there
is night. That these are in the first place to be taken
literally is admitted, and that we are taught to look to
an unchanging God through all the changes of natural
time. But that day and night look farther than this,
is seen from the whole tenor of the psalm, and from
the usage of Scripture language. They represent the
shiftings of color which pass across our history, from




254           THE CHANGES OF LIFE,
the broad bright sunshine of prosperity to the darkest
and heaviest of our trials. If our life is to be of any
value, these must come in some form, outwardly or inwardly. "Because they have no changes," says the
Psalmist, "therefore they fear not God" (Psalm lv.
19). To be convinced of this, we have only to look at
the lives of those who have come forth as strong true
men on God's side, at the vicissitudes in the course of
Abraham, and Jacob, and Moses, and David, at the
conflicts of the followers of Christ, above all at the life
of the Great Head himself.
What a breadth of experience there was in Him!
First, the day of brightness which He left, then what
may be called his night season in this world, and now
again his exceeding gladness in the light of God. His
earthly life, set like a night between these two great
days, had also its changes. He had his time for the
transfiguration robes, and his cry up through the darkness of the cross; his moments when He rejoiced in
spirit, "I thank Thee, 0 Father," and his hours of
sorrow even unto death. A broad experience like this
runs, more or less, through the history of all who
belong to Him. The more we study their lives, and
seek to enter into sympathy with them, the more-we
shall feel that our life cannot be uniform, and that,
above all, we must be made partakers of the suffering.
Shall we repine when God puts us among the children,
and makes us conformable to Christ? If we have the
sharp and sudden fall, as over a precipice, we hear
some of them saying, "Thou hast lifted me up and
cast me down; " and if we have weary, wistful looks,
on through a life where all seems darkened, and the




AND THEIR COMFORTS IN GOD.         255
sweet of existence crushed out for ever, another says,
"I shall go softly all my years, in the bitterness of my
soul." There is no place so gloomy where we cannot
see the trace of some foot, now "standing in God's
even place," nor so lonely, where Christ has not been,
and (shall we not say?) where Christ is not now. Let
us settle it with ourselves that such changes must come
to us, and let this give us, I do not say submission,
but acquiescence. It is the lot of the family, - it is
more, it is the life of Christ, and it must be spread
throughout the members.
These changes, let it be observed, are according to a
fixed law. Day and night are the ordinances of heaven
upon earth for the growth of earth's life, and, if we
could trace the sunshine and the dark in every follower of God, we should see them arranged with equal
wisdom. It is a more complex work, but, be sure of
this, there is order in it all, and the hand that rules
the world in its orbit, and that makes it fulfil its course
through light and shade, is governing our lives for a
higher than earthly end.
One feature of the law is presented so far for our
guidance. It is a law of alternation.  These changes
give place to each other.in succession. It is day and
night, and, let us thank God, it is also in due time
night and day. Each has its time and use.
In the general, God sends to us a portion of the day
before the night. There are in the natural life happy
homes of childhood, loving hearts so close to us that
they shut out all evil beyond, fond fancies and bright
hopes which make an Eden begin our memory, as it
does the world's. The Christian life is even so. It is




256           THE CHANGES OF LIFE,
usually, at first, a simple, humble, apprehension of
God's mercy which gives the love of youth, and knows
not the pains of backsliding, nor the chillness of
decline. It is in kindness that God begins our life with
such a daytime.  It strengthens for the trial, and
creates a memory within, which can be nourished into
a hope. It helps us all to reason with the ancient
patriarch, " Shall we receive good at the hand of the
Lord, and shall we not receive evil? " If we have had
our day, it is our duty and our strength not to forget
it. The great poet who said that "nothing can be
more wretched than to remember happiness in misery,"
was surely wrong. To remember what is truly good is
to possess it for ever.
But after day it is God's manner sooner or later to send
night. It is night that lets us measure the day. The
daylight cannot be estimated when we are in it. It
needs night to look back on it, to see what is true and
false, what solid and empty. At night we can tell our
work, and count our gains, and resolve, if another day
be granted, that to-morrow shall not be as this day,
but much more abundant. It is night that lets us
measure ourselves. We cannot know self by day.
We are mixed with the busy distracting world, dispersed and confused in action and enjoyment. The
night comes to let the thoughts concentrate and fall
back on their real strength, to make them feel what
basis they have within: " Thou hast proved my heart,
Thou hast visited me in the night" (Psalm xvii. 3).
It is night that lets us measure the real universe. By
day it is shut. We see only this earth and earthly sun.
By night God withdraws the veil, reveals eternity with




AND THEIR COMFORTS IN GOD.         257
its far-off shores of sparkling worlds, and fills the soul
with infinite longings, which make it conscious it has
a universe within, greater than the universe without,
and which can be satisfied only with God. It learns
to stretch its arms up to that world where there shall
be no more night, and to Him who fills it: " Oh that I
knew where I might find Him, that I might come even
to his seat."
For these, and many other ends, does God let night
fall upon the soul. If day has its light and its gladness, and its walk and its work, night has its sense of
void, better than earth's fulness, and its deep thoughts,
and humble waiting, and sighing aspirations for the
dawn - its refreshing dew below, its far beacon lights
of stars above, which are nearer eternity than the sun's
brightness.
And yet we cannot wish that God should close our view
of this life with night. It is a true feeling which is expressed by the ancient mourner, "I had fainted unless
I had believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the
land of the living."  We long to have the night break
up before we die, to have some horizon-streak of the
coming day, which may make the word true, " it shall
come to pass that at evening-time it shall be light " -
a glimpse of dawn like Simeon's view, or Stephlen's,
or the calm that fell on Christ's own struggle ere He
died. There is a light indeed that vanishes from our
life, which we feel canl never come back, - never here;
" the tender grace of a day that is dead," is fled to the
eternal shore, and our hearts would break to think that
any thing in this world's future could make us forget
it, or fill the blank. But there is another kind of day
17




258           THE CHANGES OF LIFE,
which can come to the bitterness of utter bereavement.
The Sun of Righteousness rises with healing. Our
dead are given back to us in our souls, with more than
the tenderness of life, and without the cruel pang of
death. When we can hold them in our hearts, without pain, we have recovered them. They ascend,
as the Lord did, and sit in our thoughts in heavenly
places with Him, calm and bright, and the tender
grace of a bygone day puts on also the glory of a day
to come. That such a day-spring even here can visit
the darkest gloom of trial, let not any mourner doubt
who believes that Christ has left his own grave empty
and that He will come to open ours. He can raise
our friends from the bitterness of death, and give them
back to our spirits in this world, to speak, and live,
and even rejoice with them, that He may thus assure
us He himself is risen, and that they too shall yet be
ours in full possession.
And, when such a day comes, it is to console the
night, -to make us feel that Christ's word, "Weep
not," has power with the living before He touches the
bier where the dead lie. Were He to suffer the cloud
to hang for ever as heavy and as dark, it would overwhelm us and misrepresent Him, -"-  The spirit would
fail before him, and the souls that He has made! "
Such a day comes also to test the night, to try its
-thoughts and its resolves, if they are steadfast to their
end, and, after testing, to mature them. In the hours
of darkness the roots strike down, the dew lies all night
long on the branches, but the blossoms and the fruit
demand the sun; and hope, and love, and higher fellowship with God, and deeper sympathy for suffering




AND THEIR COMFORTS IN GOD.        259
humanity, come forth afterward as the peaceable fruits
of righteousness.
The second thought contained in this passage is, that
TO SUIT THESE CHANGES IN LIFE THERE ARE DIVINE PROVISIONS.
For the day God commands " his loving-kindness,"
for the night He gives "his song."  There must be
something suitable in each of these provisions to the
circumstances, the more so, that similar expressions
are found in other passages of Scripture. The " songs
of the night " is as favorite a word of the Old Testament as " glory in tribulation" is of the New, and it is
one of those which prove that both Testaments have
the self-same root and spirit.
The loving-kindness of God is a movement, —not so
much from us to God as from God to us, - of which a
believing man is not insensible, but toward which his
position is more that of a passive recipient. It is God's
goodness, like the daylight's gladness, thrown on and
around him to lighten up his life. It is a promise
which, to a thoughtful man, is very precious. Prosperity without God's favor in it is less than nothing; but
if God's loving-kindness be there, it is better than life.
It brings with it the assurance that all things shall
work together for good to the man.
It secures this, in the beginning, that he shall have
strength for every day's duty. There will be light to
guide him in all his walk, and grace to help him in
all his work. It secures next, that prosperity shall
not injure him, -" the sun shall not smite him by
day." If it be God's gentleness which has made him




260            THE CHANGES OF LIFE,
great, that gentleness shall dwell also within, and make
him able to say, " Lord, my heart is not haughty, nor
mine eyes lofty," and that times may come when a
man must take up such language in the sight of God
against accusers, no one who reads the words of Job
or David or Paul, not to speak of Christ himself, can
doubt. This loving-kindness secures, still further, that
prosperity shall have its true enjoyment. God's love
gives to a man the very life of life, and bestows on the
day that light of which the poet speaks,-" a brighter
light than ever shone on sea or shore." Every blessing, every happy affection, every tender touch of
kindred souls, is a drop from the river of life, and a
foretaste of the fountain-head. If we possess it let us be
glad, and, if we have lost it, let us still be glad, for
the gifts and calling of God are without repentance.
These, too, like our friends, are not lost, but gone
before. There are some who tremble when they look
back on past hours of joy, and bear contrition for their
too great happiness, as Job sacrificed for his sons when
they feasted, but if God's loving-kindness was there,
the daylight was good and pure, and it has done its
part. It has strengthened the heart for trial, filled it
with happy memories, and given it power to cherish
happier hopes. If we are children of the light and of
the day, we need retain no fear, because we have had
our hearts made joyful by the Father of lights.
It might seem as if there were nothing better tban
this, a day in which " God commands his loving-kindness;" and yet the order in which this stands, and the
whole spirit of the Bible, teach us to look for something
higher in night, when " He gives his song."  The




AND THEIR COMFORTS IN GOD.        261
loving-kindness is God's goodness on, and around us,
the song his goodness in, and passing through us. The
song is the realizing of the loving-kindness, - the light
that shines around, entering into the soul as night
deepens, and giving day in its centre. It is the pillar
of cloud kindling up into the pillar of fire.
Those to whom God draws near in an agony of grief
understand this. If there are hours in our life when
we know that there is a living God and an eternal
world, it is in such a crisis, when we are compelled to
cling to Him in the dark, and feel, as we cling, a
strength beneath that lifts us up. This could never be
ifthere were not a God, and, I can, suppose, that Christ
may permit death to enter a home, and delay his deliverance, that He may bring us to this issue. Who
knows whether at Bethany a greater work was not
done in the house of mourning, than outside at the
grave? It is then that God enters and heaven opens,
and that we know what it is to have strength in weakness, and peace in trouble, and to bear a crushing load,
and feel One bearing us. This is God's way of help,
so good for us, so glorifying to Himself, and whenever
it comes, in whatever degree, it is "his song in the
night."
The song in the night is not only this conscious feeling, it is the expression of it, to ourselves and others.
It may not be loud, — not even whispered in words, —
but it is a resignation to the will of God, that is calm
and sweet, that speaks often loudest when the lips are
dumb, and lets itself be known by its perfume, like a
flower in the dark.
Where there is song there is the token of freedom




262           THE CHANGES OF LIFE,
from terror. God's own voice has hushed the soul,
"Fear not, for I am with thee," till it replies, " I will
fear none evil, for Thou art with me." The song tells
of a coming end to darkness, for there is prophecy in it,
and wherever there is this deepest harmony-the
heart at one with God in sorrow - the highest hope is
never far away. It comes like those faithful women to
the sepulchre, in the morning while it is yet dark, and
finds to its wonder a risen Lord.
If you search the history of God's dealings you will
find that it has been his manner to give these songs in
the deepest night to those who look to Him. In the
time of Job, He was known as " God our maker, who
giveth songs in the night."  Asaph remembered his
4' song in the night, when lie communed with his heart;"
and what are David's psalms in trouble, but songs when
God made " the very night to be light about him"?
Paul and Silas found it in prison, when "' they prayed
and sang praises at midnight, and the prisoners heard
them," for He in whom they trusted made his comforts
come gliding like his own angels, through the prison
bars, till strange sounds of song, such as dungeons
had not known before, came floating to the wondering
listeners. In privation, in bereavement, in desertion,
in death, these utterances of confidence in God are
written down for us. In the night of trial He has filled
the history of his church as full of songs beneath as of
stars of promise above. They console the hearts of the
singers and they rise to join the songs of the morning
stars, — to announce that a ransomed company is
marching through the gloom, anticipating the time
when they too " shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away."




AND THEIR COMFORTS IN GOD.        263
The third and last thought is, that THERE IS A CONSTANT DUTY ON OUR PART AMID ALL.
"And my prayer unto the God of my life! "  If we
are to be safe in these changes, and to share these
Divine provisions, here are the means. " Life " —
some one has said "- " is a constant want, therefore it
should be a constant prayer." It is not that we are
to sublimate this duty into one unvaried feeling, and
to withdraw it from every act of time and place, - for
those who do so must be more than common men, if
prayer, as a feeling, does not soon droop and die. The
day and the night call upon us to sanctify each, by its
own form to God, and some days and nights in their
temptations and sorrows demand those wrestlings that
have power with God to prevail. Let us never forget
that the Saviour of the world found it needful so to
cry to his Father, and that the world's redemption
passed through its crisis in an act of special prayer.
If our hours of sorrow lead to such outpourings of
heart, we are on our way to the songs of the night.
To pray truly, is to praise. Therefore in such supreme
moments of our being, let us " stir ourselves up to
take hold of God."
But neither are we to confine the prayer within such
limits. Those who are most earnest and deep at celltral points will spread most widely the feeling of prayer
all through time. The throb of the heart will pulsate
to the extremity, and prayer will be like the movement
of life which beats so constantly, because it is a dying
and reviving in every pulse-stroke. The essence- of
this feeling is dependence upon God. It is a dependence that is reverent and yet loving, reasonable and
yet childlike, that is not inconsistent with action, nay,




264           THE CHANGES OF LIFE,
that is impious and vain, unless it is breathing its life
into every fitting duty. It will put the question," What
wilt Thou have me to do? " and be ready to work by
day, or watch by night, as He may give the word.
"Lord, teach us so to pray? "
It is to the " God of our life."  The God is it not of
all our life, of every day and night, - who orders them,
and bids them come and go as He orders light and
darkness to flicker over the face of the earth? To
Him we pray, for " all our times are in his hand."  It
is to the God of the great movements of our life. When
all the joy, or, still more, all the agony, is gathered
into one cup, and we are bidden drink, and He is seen
to hold it in his hand, what can we do but pray to Him
then? " God of my life, to Thee I call." It is to the
God of our eternal life, and bitter without any sweet
that cup would be, and cruel the hand that pressed it
to our lips, if we could not add this - God of our eternal life! It is this that more than accounts for the
agony, and this that summons to unfailing prayer.
For, apart from the promises of his own Word, and
the revelation of Jesus Christ, we may argue that the
God who sends such agony on human hearts, must have
a great purpose beyond, which will justify Him before
his universe, and that the God who admits a creature
to speak to Him, and gives comfort and joy in the
thought of his own fellowship, cannot remand that
creature to everlasting forgetfulness. Here, suffering
and prayer meet and clasp hands around eternal life,
and Him who is the God of it.
AWe can never but think that these men of old, who
so wrestled with sorrow, in the power of prayer, had
that faith which made them feel that death is not an




AND THEIR COMFORTS IN GOD.        265
eternal farewell to God. It is surely the first instinct
of any life to cling to its own preservation, and shall
this not be true of the life which is Divine? And we,
who have a clearer light, or rather life brought to light,
shall we not feel it more?  My prayer to the God of
my eternal life!  In such times our prayer should be
that He, who is proving Himself a Father to our spirits,
may make this highest life' his care and ours, that the
rending of our dearest earthly affections may bind us
closer to Him who can heal them again, and that, over
the graves of our lost and longed for, we may have a
firmer hold of that God who is " the God not of the
dead, but of the living."
If happiness be the end of life, as some would tell
us, life in this world is a great and manifest failure.
But, if it be something more - if it be to train the soul
in reverence, and faith, and obedience to God - then,
with much that is dark we have some light on our way
through the terrible mysteries which surround us.
Let us pursue our way with this guide,-" My prayer
to the God of my life," humbly trusting in, and following Him who struggled in the deepest darkness for us.
Be sure that they who follow Him must come to the
light of life. If we have meanwhile day, we shall have
that loving-kindness which makes it doubly bright, and
in the deepest night we shall not be hopeless, but cherish that " song in the night " which comes as " whlen
a holy solemnity is kept" (Isa. xxx. 29) -a deep resignation to the supreme will that waits for the morning, which must come as sure as there is a God - and
for melodies, which shall not be low in the heart, but
loud and joyful onil the tongue, for " those that dwell in
the dust shall awake and sing."




XVI.
1he  qo0lpI, and  the    aniitsL  of   realtion.
" When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the
moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man that
thou art mindful of him, and the son of man, that thou visitest
him. "- PSALM viii. 3, 4.
HERE is an objection raised by some against
@'V~ ~ Scripture, that the language in which it speaks' of the earth and its relation to the heavenly
bodies, of the sun and his rising and setting, is inconsistent with the theory of the world as established by
modern astronomy.  This objection is so superficial
that it scarcely needs to be adverted to. The Bible,
while it professes to be Divine in its origin, professes
as distinctly to be human in its mode of address. It
comes, like its great subject, in the likeness of men,
and uses their ordinary speech. It could not do otherwise without antedating all science, and making itself
a revelation of material as well as of spiritual truth.
This is not its object, for although, as we believe,
it does not come into collision with the true deductions
of science, it has the one ever-present aim of bringing




THE GOSPEL.               267
the soul of man into connection with God and the
eternal world, and of delivering him from that sin
which is at once his crime and his punishment. To
do this in a way suited to every country and every
stage of human progress, is the grand mission of the
Word of God, and those men betray not their breadth
but their narrowness, and the vain conceit of a little
knowledge, who would have had the Bible adopt the
nomenclature of schools instead of the common language of humanity.
But there is another objection much deeper than
this, and deserving of a more careful consideration.
In some form it must have presented itself to every
thoughtful mind, and excited the various feelings that
rise from doubt up to wonder and adoring gratitude.
The language of the Psalmist here shows us, that some
of those questions which still perplex us in seeking to
bring God's truth into one consistent whole, have been
raised long ago, and are as old as the soul of man.
The Psalmist could have had but a small conception
of the magnitude of creation as compared with that
which dawns on us through the power of the telescope
and the calculations of astronomy, but the insignificance of man as the subject of Divine interposition and
care, filled him with wonder and awe. Amid the
amazing extension of our knowledge of the universe
through the discoveries of modern science, this wonder
has taken the form of an objection against the gospel,
openly expressed by some, and felt in different degrees
by many more. It is that the gospel revelation is out
of proportion to the magnitude of creation, as now
certainly known. Before attempting in any way to




268            THE GOSPEL, AND THE
meet it, it may be necessary to set forth the difficulty
more in detail.
Modern astronomy has taught us that our earth,
which was once reckoned the centre of the universe, is
no more than one of a sisterhood of planets revolving
round a common sun, and one which is very small,
compared with other globes of the same system. There
are some of those planets that surpass it in size many
hundred times, and the sun round which we revolve,
and which, for aught we know, may be the scene of
life, exceeds it beyond all comparison. Outside our
solar system, there are those constellations where
every luminous point may be, and probably is, the
centre of a system of its own, filled with vast and
varied being. Beyond these visible stars, which seem
like the first mile-stones in trackless space, there is the
faint light called the Milky Way, which, by the aid of
the telescope, can be resolved into masses of stars, so
distant from us, that a ray of light from them would
require thousands of years to reach us. The Milky
Way is, with good reason, supposed to be the outer
bound of that great stellary congregation to which all
the visible stars belong, including our own sun. But
ill the depths of space, immeasurably beyond the Milky
Way, there are systems and groups of systems as large
as, or larger than, the whole field of creation already
noticed.  Our own galaxy is but a unit among many
more.  Beyond it, there are others so distant that, as
a celebrated astronomer (Sir John Herschel) states,
"the rays of light from some remoter nebulace must
have been two millions of years on their way." In the
presence of such conceptions, thought is powerless.




MAGNITUDE OF CREATION.         269
If we can realize all this as the product of one mind,
how does it magnify our idea of it! How great the
Being who not only comprehends all these worlds at a
glance, but who made them, sustains them, and more
than fills them! " Behold the heaven, and heaven of
heavens cannot contain Thee."
Over against this view of the universe, we may set,
in few words, the gospel revelation. It tells us that in
one of these worlds, insignificant in magnitude compared with many, God has interposed in behalf of a
race of sinful beings, in a manner which, in some
respects, must stand unparalleled and alone. He first
opened a communication with them as fallen, and then
entered into a union mysteriously intimate. That He
may gain great spiritual ends, He sustains at once the
relation of Sovereign and subject, Judge and sufferer.
He not only touches, but takes upon Him the fallen
nature- vindicates the eternal law of justice - condemnlls the sin, and makes provision for the restoration
to pardon, purity, and Divine life, of myriads of the
rebellious race. The revolt is destined to be put down,
and the world which seemed lost to its allegiance is
to be finally reconquered to the Divine kingdom, and
made the seat of holiness and happiness. It may be
put briefly in the words of Scripture, " God so loved
the world that He gave his only begotten Son, that
whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have
everlasting life."  " And the kingdoms of this world
shall become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his
Christ; and He shall reign for ever and ever."
It cannot be denied that the two views of God presented here, of his greatness in the material, and of




270            THE GOSPEL, AND THE
his love in the spiritual, world, stand wide apart, and
that the attempt to hold them together in thought may
well overpower us. But though we could not offer a
single consideration fitted to reconcile them, it should
be remembered that it is of God that we are speaking,
and that an infinite nature must present aspects which
diverge far apart from each other, - which become, if
we may so say, utterly unlike. The Bible is not
taken by surprise in this, for though its writers had
not that knowledge of God's creation which we have,
they had that inspired conception of his grandeur
which is worthy of it, and they felt how marvellous
this makes his interposition in behalf of man. It filled
them not, indeed, with unbelief, but with wonder and
awe.
It should be remembered, moreover, that both of
these views of God come before us on their own distinct evidence, and must be tested by it. Different
sciences, which seem at first discordant, advance at
last to join hands in reconciliation, and religion, which
springs from the basis of the spiritual, may appear for
a while in strange contrast, or even conflict, with the
discoveries of the material universe, and yet be found
in the end to be in full harmony with them.
One more remark may be made as a preliminary,
that science, as far as it has gone, and we may confidenltly say as far as it can go, is unable to take the place
of religion. It cannot supply religion's consolations,
and it can offer no substitute for its hopes. Till it can
do this, or till these consolations and hopes are no
more needed, science can never supplant it. Religion
may have its forms of expression touched and modified




MAGNITUDE OF CREATION.            271
here and there, but it cannot have its life impaired
until man ceases to feel that he has a soul. If science
could destroy the lights which religion holds up in the
history of man, it would be found not only to have inflicted the greatest wrong on humanity, but to have
assailed the very spring, and quenched the attractions,
of its own progress - for the highest thought connected with science is that in its paths we are following the
footsteps of a universal mind,-and beginning a course
of inquiry which is eternal as it is infinite. Science
would then be the blind giant tearing down the pillars
of the temple, and crushing with itself in the ruins,
not its enemies, but its friends.
We come now more directly to the objection that
has been taken to the gospel from the vastness of creation as displayed in astronomy. So far as we can
see, that objection takes one of two shapes, -either
that man, looked at in the light of such a universe, is too
insignificant for this interposition; or, that God is too
far above us to expect such an. interposition from Him.
We shall consider these two forms of objection in
order.
I. As regards man, the professed aim of the gospel
is his deliverance from spiritual error and sin, and his
introduction to that which alone can satisfy the wants
of his nature, the favor and fellowship of the God who
made him. This is a sphere of action entirely different
from astronomy, and, at its very first step, as much
higher as mind is above matter. It is the presence of
life, above all, of intelligent life, which gives significance to creation, and which stands, like the positive




272            THE GOSPEL, AND THE
digit in arithmetic, before all its blank ciphers. The
most beautiful landscape wants its chief charm till we
see, or fancy in it, the home of man.
This may be charged as egotism, but it is the law of
our being by which we must judge the world. We
must look out on God's universe with the eyes and
heart that its Maker has bestowed upon us, and we
must believe that they were meant to guide us truly.
The eras of geology receive their interest as they become instinct with animation, and as they foreshadow
the entrance of the intelligent mind, which was at last
to appear among them to be their interpreter. It is
the reason of man which has reconstructed them out
of their dead ashes. It is that same reason which
gives to the present living world all that it has of
meaning and of unity. The forms of beauty and grandeur which matter puts on are only the clothing furnished by mind. The Alps and Andes are but millions
of atoms till thought combines them, and stamps on
them the conception of the everlasting hills. Niagara
is a gush of water-drops till the soul puts into it that
sweep of resistless power which the beholder feels.
The ocean, wave behind wave, is only great when the
spirit has breathed into it the idea of immensity. If
we analyze our own feelings, we shall find that thought
meets us wherever we turn. The real grandeur of the
world is in the soul which looks on it, which sees some
conception of its own reflected from the mirror around
it, - for mind is not only living but life-giving, and
has received from its Maker a portion of his own creative power. It breathes into dead matter the breath of
life, and " it becomes a living soul."




MAGNITUDE OF CREATION.           273
It is not merely the great masters of thought who
possess this power, but the capacity is in every mind
which makes it kindred to the greatest, and which
separates it by an infinite gulf from matter. " Man,"
Pascal says, 1" is a feeble reed, trembling in the midst
of creation; but then he is endowed with thought. It
does not need the universe to arm for his destruction.
A breath of wind, a drop of water will suffice to kill
him. But, though the universe were to fall on man
and crush him, he would be greater in his death, than
the universe in its victory; for he would be conscious
of his defeat, and it would not be conscious of its triumph " (Pensees xviii. 11).
The very discoveries of astronomy which disclose
the vastness of the material creation, are, in another
form, testimonies to the greatness of man's mind. In
every' step of progress, the discoverer is above the
discovery. It is mind which travels from star to star,
which measures them in mass and distance, and which,
when it has traversed them, can comprise them  all,
and more than them all, in a single thought.  It can
rise above them, and pass beyond them, into infinity
and eternity. So far, then, from these discoveries
leading us to believe that God will do less for man, they
may incline us to the hope that He will do more.
The mind of man receives a further dignity when we
turn from its power over the material to its capacity in
the moral world. It is able to conceive and to reason
from those distinctions of truth and falsehood, right
and wrong, good and evil, which underlie and govern
the spiritual world, as the laws of mathematics do the
material. It feels that there is something here which
18




274            THE GOSPEL, AND THE
is as universal as mind, and more enduring, not only
than the forms of matter, but than its substance. We
can think the material universe out of being, and we
believe there was a time when it did not exist, but the
true, the right, the good, must be conceived in thought,
and held in faith, to be unchangeable and eternal.
Here, if anywhere, mind grasps the absolute and infinite, and, because it is able to do this, it holds rank
above the highest things that eye can see, or heart
conceive, in the physical creation.
To this dignity of mind derived from its power of
thought, we have to add its value in the light of immortality. Though the material universe as a whole
will never cease to exist, it is yet subject in every part
to change and decay, -while the soul lives on, unaltered in conscious identity, binding the present to the
past, and the future to the present, in a continuous
chain for ever. If there be in matter, as we look up
through the worlds, what seems an infinite of space,
there is in mind a real infinite of time, and a power of
growth in thought and feeling and enjoyment, which
consists not, like the growth of matter, in alternate
birth and death, but in an evermore living life, welling
upward, and swelling outward, in approach to the infinite and ever-blessed God. We may agree with Augustine, who says, " There is but one object greater
than the soul, and that one its Creator;" and we may
reason very fitly, that if it was worthy of God to create
such a being at first, it is worthy of Him to care for it
afterwards, and to seek its progress and happiness
with all the means at his disposal, that is, with a power and wisdom and goodness which are unlimited.




MAGNITUDE OF CREATION.          275
We may reason, farther, that it cannot be considered
unworthy of God to interpose supernaturally for such
an end. The first origin of created being, and of man,
must be thought of as supernatural - as a step on the
part of Divine power beyond what was previously existent. Why should there not be another such interposition to create man anew, and raise him to true
spiritual life? The denial of this would consistently
lead to the denial of a Divine act of creation, and, indeed, to the denial of God's personality, with which
consequences we do not here deal. But if we believe
in a God who created the world and made man in it,
it is surely reasonable to believe also that He will guide
his work to its proper end, and that the highest part
of man's nature will not be left to neglect. A dignified
idea of either God or man will not incline us to believe
that things are abandoned to chance-hazard here. If
we see God exerting his power and wisdom in multiplying and adorning forms of dead matter - if we behold Him piling them in heaven-soaring mountains,
brightening them into resplendent suns, and scattering
them through space in infinitely varied combinations,
- it is not too much to expect that He will exert these
same attributes in retrieving from loss and in raising
to fresh spiritual power that immortal mind which is
the true image of Himself — which alone of all his
works can comprehend Him, and can return the expressions of his intelligence and love.
So far from what God has done for the world of
matter, in the fields of astronomy, being any reason
for discrediting what the gospel declares He has done
for the world of mind in man, it should be a reason for




276            THE GOSPEL, AND THE
believing it. If He has lavished so much of pains and
skill upon a universe of death, what may we not anticipate for one of life?  If He has expended so much
upon the mere pedestal and platform of being, what
upon the thinking immortal spirit, on whose account
alone the basement and outer furniture of the world
are there? Belief in the gospel will become an easier
thing to us in proportion as we realize the greatness of
the soul, and breathe the air of eternity.
Still, we can imagine an objection rising to all this
in the minds of some. It may be urged that it is not
a fair statement of the case to compare mind in this
world with matter in the worlds of astronomy, for it is
rational to suppose that mind exists there as well as
here. The difficulty, it may be said, lies in this, that
God should have done so much for mind in our globe
as compared with what has been done for it in other
regions of his universe.
A very sufficient answer to this is, that ours is the
only world with the inhabitants and circumstances of
which we are acquainted, and therefore the only one
regarding which we can form  any judgment. The
nearest of the heavenly bodies to our own (the moon)
is to all appearance uninhabited, and what stage other
worlds may have reached, in the great march of being,
it is impossible for us even to conjecture. We learn
from our earth's history that long eras roll on before
the highest state is reached, if indeed we have reached
it, and whether these other worlds are behind or before
us in the scale must remain for ever unknown in our
present condition.  Granted that they are the spheres
of intelligent and responsible mind, it is equally impos



MAGNITUDE OF CREATION.          277
sible to say whether, and under what form, Divine
interpositions may be needed by them. God doubtless
has his manifestations there as well as here, and in the
manner suited to the nature and wants of his creatures.
Everywhere "his works praise Him, and his saints
bless Him;" and instead of reasoning from the wide
extent of his universe that He will neglect any part,
it is more consonant to infer that He will care for
all. The tokens of his presence among us, seen and
felt to the lowest verge of being, lead to the same
conclusion.
If there be a peculiar manifestation of God to us, we
know that there is a peculiar necessity to which it is
adapted. The revelation of the great Father of spirits
in this world is one suited to a lapsed and sinful state,
and marked, therefore, by that view of his character
which re-assures the heart by its infinite condescension;
but as He never repeats Himself in this world, it may
be expected that in others He reveals Himself in infinitely varied modes. Every star must give up its
secret before we have the complete manifestation of
God, and even then we would see but " parts of his
ways." To compare and to study these may be, must
be, the work of eternity; and, as we wonder sometimes
how a soul, growing on for ever, can find fresh exercise for all its thoughts and activities, we may reach
the answer when we look up through the countless
hosts of the firmament, and feel that every point of
light shall yet open out into a sun, and each one cast
its own special illumination on the nature of Him who,
with all our searching, cannot be found out unto perfection.




278            THE GOSPEL, AND THE
II. We come now to the second form which the
objection may take - that as the gospel revelation sets
man in a rank that is too high, so does it bring God too
low. Is it credible, it may be asked, that the all-extending infinite Power, which these worlds on worlds
disclose, can enter into union with human nature, and
take that place on our earth which the cross and the
grave of Jesus Christ reveal?
Perhaps there may be over-boldness on both sides in
the argument as to what we may expect from God,
but, provided we do not degrade his moral attributes,
the presumption is likely to be not in anticipating too
muchl, but too little. All that we know of God may
lead us not to set limits to any side of his character,
and certainly it is not the discoveries of astronomy
which should teach us so to circumscribe Him. We
see in the sky the hand of a Being infinite in power
and wisdom, and is it rational, because of this, to
restrict Him in his display of goodness and mercy?
He is so great in the heights of heaven, therefore he
cannot be so great in stooping to misery and sin!
This may apply very well as a standard to some kinds
of men, but it is not the standard for the noblest, and,
least of all, can we take it as a measuring-line for God.
There is more philosophy in the feeling of the Psalmist
that God's greatness is the measure, not of his distance
from, but of his nearness to us. " As the heaven is
high above the earth, so great is his mercy to them
that fear Him" (Ps. ciii. 11).
In the character of a really great man, we require a
balance of qualities to satisfy us. Pascal has finely
said, " I do not admire in a man the extreme of one




MAGNITUDE OF CREATION.          279
virtue, as of valor, if I do not see at the same time
the extreme of the opposite virtue, as in Epaminondas,
who had the extreme of valor and the extreme of
gentleness. For otherwise this character would not
rise, but fall, by the excess of the one side. A man
shows true greatness, not by touching one extreme,
but by touching both at once, and filling up the
interval" (Pensees xxv. 9).
This is a principle which we are justly warranted in
applying to God. In astronomy we see Him touching
the extremity of omnipotence, and, if his character is
not to be one-sided, we may expect to see Him touching,
in some other work, the extremity of love. We shall
seek it vainly all through creation, if we do not meet
with it in the gospel. There we believe it is to be discovered, and a depth of sympathizing tenderness is
revealed, which is a full and fitting counterpoise, and
which can be set over against that height of awful
majesty. By how much then the mind of man extends the scale and weights the balance on the side
of power, by so much is a sphere of action needed
which can show us corresponding mercy; and the
gospel of Christ becomes then a suitable, we may
almost say an indispensable, complement in any perfect
manifestation of the nature of God.
Thus it would be, even if we were to place the
material and the moral on the same level of importance, but the argument becomes stronger, when we
consider how much the moral rises above the material.
We may expect that God's revelation of Himself will
be in a similar proportion. Every man who can think
will acknowledge that intellect is superior to physical




280            THE GOSPEL, AND THE
strength, and that purity and goodness are superior to
mere intellect. As society progresses, and the world
grows wiser, this standard of judgment is more and
more adopted. Nimrod and Achilles had the place of
honor in the earliest ages, but as time rolled on mind
became pre-eminent, and men read Homer to admire,
not the hero, but the poet. If Napoleon is the object
of admiration yet, it is as the embodiment of intellectual energy; and his hard selfishness, his want of
truthfulness and justice, are constantly reducing him
to a lower place as a man of heroic mould. There is
an attempt being made in our day to bring back the
worship of force, and to make men fall down in
adoration of its brief success, even when it is devoted
to the most selfish ends. But it only shows how
miserably blind intellect becomes, when it loses sight
of a guiding moral principle in the universe, and how,
when the higher lights that are in God are forgotten,
men stumble in the practical rule of life. Weak as
human nature is, and fascinated by false glitter, it is
gradually and surely advancing to estimate men by
the unselfishness of purpose which they display.
Genius directed to evil, or squandered on vanity, loses
its power to charnn, and the involuntary tribute is
given to fortitude in adversity, to self-sacrificing labor
for the good of others, and to the life which forgets
itself in the presence of danger or death, for the
service of humanity. Our deepest and truest instincts
tell us that these things make the real hero, and that
power and genius are never so great as when, with
noble unconsciousness, they stoop to lift the fallen and
lost. Whatever aberrations the spirit of a man or an




MAGNITUDE OF CREATION.'281
age may show, we must come back to this rule of
judgment.
But if we have such a standard in the profoundest
instincts of our nature, and if the world is ever more
advancing to the perception of it, from whom did we
receive it, if not from God, and is it not reasonable to
suppose that the view he gives us of his own character
will be formed upon it?  Can we imagine that the
human reason will ever rise so high as to be in
advance of Him who is its original, and turn round
and discover a God inferior to itself-one who was
anxious to impress his creatures more with a sense
of his material power than of the features of his
moral and spiritual character?  And yet take away
the gospel, and, so far as we can see, we should
have a deity whose highest display was that of physical omnipotence. Could we reverence in God that
which we cannot respect in man? It is the gospel
which restores the harmony between the view of God's
power and that inner dictate of our nature which sets
the highest crown upon goodness. Then it is that awe
at his power and love of his condescension can aid
each other, and both concentrate on Himself.
We can suppose a reply made that this standard of
judgment is the result of the reception of the gospel
among us, and that we are trying the case by the
maxims of our own side.
It would be to the highest praise of the gospel if it
had created such a standard, and it is, indeed, to the
gospel that we chiefly owe its development. But he
takes a very superficial view of human nature who does
not believe that there are essential moral intuitions




282           THE GOSPEL, AND THE
in it, weakened, it is true, and perverted by sin, but
ready to be awakened and to give their response to the
Divine Spirit when it breathes upon them. Deepest
among these is the conviction that the pure, and
merciful, and tender, are beautiful, not only in the
human, but in the Divine - and it is because the gospel meets this feeling that we are borne to it on the
tide of all our spiritual sympathies. The more profoundly and reverently we study our inner nature and
the standard of moral judgment which has been there
set up, the more we shall feel the need of the revelation
of Jesus Christ to give us this full-orbed view of God.
It alone discloses depths of compassion transcending
even those heights of power, and points us to a Being
who crowns his own nature, as He crowns ours " with
lovinlg-kindness and tender mercy."
When we take this view we see that man has been
placed in this world in the midst of concentric circles
of Divine attributes, which become charged with
deeper interest as they press in closer towards him.
The most distant is power, girdling the universe with
its rings of stars and constellations. Within it, comes
the sphere of harmonious wisdom in the orbits of the
planets and the revolutions of sun and moon, with
signs and seasons. When we touch our own world,
we can discern goodness in the varied tribes of being
in earth, and air, and sea. Justice enters in the field
of human history, inspiring confidence, and yet exciting awe when it shows us the rise or the ruin of
nations, as they abide by, or depart from, the principles of rectitude.
But the inmost circle of fatherly love and forgiving




MAGNITUDE OF CREATION.           283
mercy remains in the approach of God to the individual
soul. Such a circle there must be, and when we feel
its clasp on our hearts, we learn, in the language of
the poet, " that the world is made for each of us." The
universe gathers round each single eye like a broad
rainbow arch, to let us see, not the world alone, but
God, power the outmost color, - mercy the nearest,that every one may be able to look up to Him without
dismay. Take away the inmost and deepest radiance,
and then that which is most consoling to us, and most
glorious in Him, disappears.  One of the most beautiful pictures in the whole range of ancient poetry is
when the hero of Troy stretches out his arms to embrace his infant son before he moves to the field of
battle. The child shrinks from him in fear, " scared
by the dazzling helm and nodding crest," and the tenderness of the father's heart comes out with a touch
of nature that makes us feel it beating across three
thousand years: -
" He hastened to relieve the child,
The glittering terrors from his brows unbound,
And placed the gleaming helmet on the ground -
Then kissed the child."
And shall we not feel it reasonable that the God who
placed paternal pity in the heart of man feels it, and
will take his own way of making us feel it, also?
When we are ready to be crushed by the overwhelming greatness of that starry diadem, there must be
some assurance given of God's compassion that shall
open for us the door of filial confidence to his heart.
Were it not for this, how cold and stern would every
night come, with its awful lights looking down distant




284            THE GOSPEL, AND THE
and silent on a world of sin and graves! Its thousand
eyes would glitter pitilessly on our misery, and its fixed
cycles would be coiled round us, like chains of despair.
The arms of omnipotence would be dreadful if there
were no throb of mercy in the breast.
"Thou art the mighty God!
This gleaming wilderness of suns and worlds
Is an eternal and triumphant hymn
Chanted by Thee unto Thine own great self!
Wrapt in Thy skies what were my prayers to Thee! "
The gospel is the answer to this, and the only sufficient answer.  When we fall as dead at the feet of
Him who has " in his right hand the seven stars," and
whose countenance is " as the sun shining in his
strength," He lays his hand on us and says, "Fear
not," and when we look up we meet the face of Jesus
Christ. He discloses a second universe in the soul,
with its depths of infinite yearning and heights of capability, and shows the greatness that is in man, by
touching human nature with the Divine which is in
Himself. The man who, with unsealed eyes and humble heart, enters this new world, perceives a growing
grandeur worthy of all that God has done or can do
for it - a world that goes forward not to death but life,
and that even now floods all the stars with a purer,
tenderer light than the astronomer's tube can reveal.
The character of God rises more conspicuously Divine,
- love softening greatness, and greatness commending
love.  " The high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, and that dwells in the high and holy place, dwelleth with him also that is of a contrite and humble
spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble, and to revive
tile heart of the contrite ones."




MAGNITUDE OF CREATION.          285
The gospel of Jesus Christ is the revelation of this
God, and it carries the tokens of its divinity with it in
the purity and grandeur of the prospects it presents,
and the glorious freeness with which it offers them to
a fallen world —in the depths of Divine mercy disclosed by it, which are no dream, for they attest themselves by their fruits in the transformation of souls into
a heavenly image, and in the patience and hope and
peace which the humblest of us may share, according
to our measure, through the grace of the Son of God.
It is a noble thing to study God's universe. It is a
nobler thing to be acquainted with Himself. It is the
noblest of all to unite these two - to feel the mercy of
God's heart, and see the majesty of his handiwork, and
to accept them both as Godlike, and both as ours" He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their
wounds; He telleth the number of the stars, He calleth
them all by their names. Great is our Lord, and of
great power: his understanding is infinite" (Psalm
xlvii. 3).
The conclusion of the whole matter is, that he who
feels that he has a soul will find his way into a spiritual world, and he who feels that he has sin will find
a Divine fitness in the gospel of Christ. And, when
he embraces it, he will come to see that " the stars in
all their courses " fight for that gospel. Both revelations are worthy of God, and each, rightly considered,
contributes to the fulness of the other. But of the
two, the gospel is more needful to us. The " bright
and morning star " is more to our soul's firmament
than all the constellations of the sky. It is needed
even the more for that vastness of creation which,




286                THE GOSPEL.
without its guiding light, would bewilder and blind us,
for, truly viewed, the gospel, instead of requiring a
defence against astronomy, stands justified by it as a
grand moral and spiritual necessity.




XVII.
n 5 Xopte  d ofmmortdil  }ncontradiced tb  fod.'If ift were not so, Iwould have told you." -JOHN Xiv. 2.
HESE words are a parenthesis in the midst of
one of our Lord's greatest promises. His disciples already cherished high hopes of a glorious future through Him, and now what He says is
above all they could ask or think, - eternal mansions
in heaven, where they shall see and share the glory
which the Father bestows on the only begotten and
well-beloved Son. There might be some misgivings in
their minds, as if such hopes were beyond hope, and
these words are thrown in to quiet them -" If it were
not so, I would have told you."  " I know," as if He
had said, "what you are expecting, and you need
cherish no apprehension lest you come short of it.
Though I had given no promise in words, my silence
would have been your guarantee and pledge. Had you
been deceiving yourselves with a falsehood, I would
have felt bound to undeceive you."
There is a familiarity of friendship in the words




288        MAN'S HOPE OF IMMORTALITY
which breathes the spirit of his own saying (John xv.
15)-" Henceforth I call you not servants; for the
servant knoweth not what his Lord doeth, but I have
called you friends." There is an appeal to the innate
truthfulness of his own nature, which we feel to be
deserved by Him. He is so faithful that He will not
merely refrain from uttering a falsehood, He will
not connive at it by silence. He cannot be near error
without unmasking it, and showing that He is the
Truth. The looks, the words, the conduct of his disciples, were making a constant appeal to Him, and
telling of their hope of eternal life through Him. Had
He been conscious of its emptiness and refused to
speak out, had He accepted their homage and service,
with such a misapprehension in their hearts, what
should we think of Him?  It would cloud all the
character of Christ in its foundation-element of truthfulness, and destroy the ideal we have formed to ourselves of One in whose mouth there was no guile. The
basis of all his teaching is truth first; truth above
all things; truth, however hard and painful- let us
know the truth; and were He to act in contradiction
to it here, and connive at a falsehood which runs
through the whole life of his- disciples, and which
affects their close relation to Himself, we should cease
to love or reverence such a character any more. The
brightest ideal which ever rose on the world would be
felt to be hollow and deceptive.
Now, this conception of what Christ should have
done, and would have done, in these circumstances,
whence comes it? Whence this conviction of what
truth requires of One who appears with the claim to




UNCONTRADICTED BY GOD.           289
be the Son of God?  It is certainly of God's own implanting. The deep unalterable feeling that truth has
a supreme claim over all things else, and that nothing
can justify, not merely the utterance of falsehood, but
silent connivance with it,- this feeling is engraven in
man's soul by Him who is the Father of lights. If we
did not believe in the unchangeable nature and claims
of truth, we could not believe in Him.
We feel that if God has implanted in us this conviction of the homage due to truth, He Himself will
act in accordance with it. His conduct, as far as we
can trace it, will correspond with the moral and spiritual principles which lie at the root of the nature He
has given us.
We purpose, then, taking this principle announced
by Christ, which we feel to be so worthy of Him,
so just and right, and we shall try to apply it to what
we may expect from God. In doing this we must,
first, show that we stand to the Maker of the universe
in a position similar to that in which these disciples
stood to their Master, - that is, we are looking to Him
for the fulfilment of hopes which go beyond this world
into another; next, we must show that the same considerations which would have led Christ to undeceive
his disciples, had they been in error, apply to God in
his position to us; and then will follow the conclusion,
that, as the silence of Christ would have been, as He
tells us, an assurance to his disciples that they were
right in their hopes, so the silence of God, if He had
been silent, would be an encouragement to us to believe that the immortality we expect from Him is not
a dream. We look for that blessed hope, and expect
19




290        MAN'S HOPE OF IMMORTALITY
an eternal home for the soul. "If it were not so, He
would have told us."
I. The first thing we have to do is to show that OUR
POSITION TO GOD IS SIMILAR TO THAT IN WHICH THE
DISCIPLES STOOD TO CHRIST, —wC are looking to Him
for the fulfilmnent of hopes which reach beyond our
present life.
It cannot be questioned that there is a deep and
wide testimony in man's nature to the existence of
a God and of a future life. It may be pronounced
either true or false, but it must be admitted to exist.
We find it appearing in all countries and ill all ages,
and the seeming exceptions to it no more vitiate the
fact than the absence of reason in some individuals, or
its degradation in some races, would lead us to deny
that man is rational. Those who believe in the effect
of sin can account for the distortion and the darkening
of this testimony of man's nature, though sin with all
its power has not been able to eradicate it. We may
glance at it more in detail.
There is a dim token of a nature which seeks more
than earth, in the manner ill which earthly things are
often pursued. When we see man grasping at wealth
and fame, at power and pleasure, casting them all
into the void of the soul, and still unsatisfied, we perceive something of the truth that he is made for the
infinite and the divine. The world cannot fill his soul,
because it is greater than the world. Man himself is
conducting an exhaustive argument to prove the true
end of his being. The magnet in his heart can never
rest till it points to its pole-star.




UNCONTRADICTED BY GOD.          291
We can see it when the mind of man intermeddles
with all knowledge, pursues the broken rays of truth,
and seeks to trace them to a higher and still a higher
fountain,- when he strives to resolve facts into laws,
particular laws into general, general into universal,
and so upward to one supreme centre. In his thirst
for truth, solely because it is truth, in his faith in it, in
his search after it as single and sovereign, there is
a token of man's origin and destiny.
It comes to light in the way in which man pursues
an object beyond the range of self-interest, and the
term of his own life. Instances of it occur not only in
a few men of lofty enthusiasm, who embrace a nation
or a world in their thought, but every day and in every
walk of life. We all know men who have aims, more
or less exalted, for which they are ready to give time
and labor and endless anxiety, without any prospect
of reward or fame, without even any hope that they
themselves shall see the result. In this stretch of
man's soul beyond self there is a look of his nature
beyond earthly limits.
We can perceive the same in the conception men have
of an ideal of perfection, in the delight with which
they dwell upon it, in their struggle to realize it, and
in the deep lamentation that comes from the heart
over the imperfect and impure around them.  The
only sphere in which this yearning can be realized is
immortality. Without this it would have no proper
meaning, no sufficient and worthy close.
It is discerned in all the religions which man has
made for himself. He cannot remain permanently without a religion, and that religion must as certainly have




292        MAN'S HOPE OF IMMORTALITY
a future. Individuals may have so far reasoned themselves out of their sense of an immortality, and particular nations and ages, through the influence of a
prevailing materialism, may have sunk low in the
appreciation of it, but it is still there in the heart of
humanity, ready to spring up when rightly appealed
to. However arid the soil, pierce deep enough and
there is some vein where this water of life may be
touched.
We can see also, that, in proportion as religions rise
in their perception of moral excellence, in that degree
do they become clear on the question of immortality.
We may appeal here to the Bible, and to the various
forms of religious faith which are connected with it.
We are not quoting it for its authority, but simply as
a matter of fact. Let a man, if he will, say that the
book and all that has sprung from it is merely a product of human nature, it is still an evidence that human
nature is looking for an eternal life. The hundreds of
millions who hold by it profess this at least, and we
have a right to say that Christianity, in its rise and
diffusion, is a testimony to man's hope of an immortality.
It may be said that the vast mass of those who profess it think very little of the eternal life which it
proclaims, and this must be mournfully admitted. If
they all held it as a constant firm-fixed conviction,
there would be no need to argue for it. We refer to
it here only to show that a religion, which is the most
widely spread through the most intelligent part of mankind,- where human nature, on its intellectual and
spiritual side, is most fully developed, —has the hope




UNCONTRADICTED BY GOD.            293
of immortality for one of its central and pervading
ideas.
We have a right to say further, that this hope is one
of its greatest living forces. It rose with this, burning
in its breast; it lives with this indestructible fire within
it, kindling and intensifying itself with the powers of
the world to come. No one can read these parting
words of Christ or the utterances of such men as Paul
and John, without seeing that, wherever their religion
goes, the conviction of an immortality goes with it as an
all-pervading thought. Its martyrdoms and its missionary efforts are everywhere based upon it. Its preachers are inflamed with the love of saving souls that are
immortal; and its witnesses have calmly met death for
the truth's sake, because they believed that they were
not losing life, but gaining it.
In the midst of all the materialism of our day, the
missions of Christian churches abroad and at home,
the sacrifices and self-denying labors for the spread of
the gospel, prove how strong among many millions is
the conviction of the value of the soul in its immortal
nature. It remains yet to be shown that any view of
man, as possessed of a mere earthly life, will lead to
the suffering and labor which the gospel has called
forth in the cause of humanity; and it is a remarkable
fact that a philanthropy which professes to be able to
act without the gospel hope, has never appeared except
where the gospel has warmed the air and enlightened
the sky.
I know that it is the fashion of some to speak of the
hope of immortality as selfish, and to object to Christianity because it puts eternal life in the front rank of its




294         MAN'S HOPE OF IMMORTALITY
truths. We should be able, they say, to follow the
true, the right, the good, whether there be an immortality or not. But the question is, whether in following
the true, the right, and the good, and in connecting
these with the thought of God, it be selfish to desire
to follow them out to their fullest issue, and to follow
them for ever. There is a selfish way of looking at the
doctrine of immortality, as of every thing else; but there
is also an unselfish way, and it is the most Christian,
- a view of immortality which thirsts for it and claims
it as the heritage of man, and which can forget itself
in the thought of God, and an eternal universe of truth
and purity with which He shall at last surround Himself. It is surely worthy of consideration, in this
question of unselfishness, that the religion which of
all others is most disinterested in its morality, which
founds its motives, not on hope of reward, but on love,
is that one also which looks most clearly and steadily
into an eternal life, and that its central act is a sacrifice unto death, which becomes the spring and birth of
numberless immortalities. That the gospel infuses
into the soul the ardor for an eternal life is a truth we
not only admit,- it is one in which we glory; but the
desire, as the gospel puts it, is not for the mere existence, or any outward accompaniments of it,-it is
for the true, the pure, and divine, which have become
to the soul the life of life. To ask us to be willing
to give up looking on, and living for, such a world, is to
demand, not unselfishness, but apathy.
We appeal, then, to the Bible, and the forms of religion that have sprung from it, not in the way of authority, but merely as proof of this fact, that vast numbers




UNCONTRADICTED BY GOD.           295
of men are looking to God with the hope of an immortality. In all ages they have labored and suffered and
died in this hope. Many of the purest, noblest natures,
that make us reverence humanity as a Divine work,
have gone through the world with their face turned to
God and eternity, and the unalterable conviction in
their heart that it was no evanescent look. They have
been appealing to the Father of spirits as really and
truly for the fulfilment of their expectation, as his disciples did to Christ, when they followed Him and looked
into his face with the hope of eternal life in their
souls.
And this conviction, represented in the Bible, has,
lying behind it, the deep instinct spoken of in the
religious, and even in the earthly, struggles of man
universal, — the instinct that he is the citizen of a
greater sphere than time. It is an instinct that may be
maltreated, and that, left to itself, will grow up into
sad perversions, but the Bible does not create it, it
finds it, and makes it its work to purify and point it
to its true end. Even in its lowest form, it makes its
dumb appeal to God, and is part of the dim groping after
Him who is the desire of all nations. If it were utterly
false, we would expect that, in some way, it would be
shown to be so. The principle laid down by Christ for
his own conduct would apply equally to God. If in these
hopes and aspirations men were deceived, and were appealing to the Author of their being, so widely and so
constantly for the fulfilment of what He never intends to
bestow, then, in some distinct way or other, by some voice
from heaven, or some prevailing voice of reason in their
own hearts, we might justly conclude that  He would act




296        MAN'S HOPE OF IMMORTALITY
on this principle-" If it were not so, I would have
told you."
II. Having sought to show that there is a parallel
position, we have next to prove that THE SAME CONSIDERATIONS WHICH WOULD HAVE LED CHRIST TO UNDECEIVE
HIS DISCIPLES, HAD THEY BEEN IN ERROR, APPLY TO GOD
IN HIS POSITION TO US.
The reasons fall under a twofold division, - those
which lie in God's own character, and those which lie
in the relation between Him and us. Whatever could
press on Christ as a moral obligation to speak out to his
disciples, would lead us to expect that, if we were
deceiving ourselves, God would speak out to us.
In thinking of character we must take truthfulness
as a first element. Christ's faithfulness to truth would
have prevented Him from suffering his friends to
live and die self-deceived in so momentous a question.
A genuine nature will shun, not merely active falsehood, but silent connivance with it. The most beautiful ideal of moral purity which ever appeared on the
world's horizon, would be all darkened if we could
conceive of Christ as a tacit party to deception, living
all his life amid hollow hopes, and never uttering a
word to correct them. "He would have told them."
And shall we think less or worse of God, from
whom every conviction of faithfulness and purity
which glances through our bosom must come? The
standard of clear candor which demands no suppression of the truth, when we are appealed to, has been
implanted in us by Him. Shall He not act upon it?
If we believe in Him at all, we must believe in a" God




UNCONTRADICTED BY GOD.          297
of truth, and without iniquity." Yet here would be
men, through successive generations, cherishing a
baseless expectation, looking to Him for its fulfilment,
and going down in ceaseless procession to the grave,
with a lie in their right hand. The living labors of
men, their dying hopes, their feeble hands raised in
supplication, their closing eyes, all turning to Him
and his heaven, yearning for a final home, — friends
following them there in thought, and enduring life
only in the hope to meet them again, - and it is all a
deception, and God, the God of truth, can look silently
on, nor utter one word, nor give a warning sign!
" That be far from thee, Lord, that shall not be unto
thee!"
Another fundamental element in character is justice.
It would have impelled Christ to undeceive his disciples, had He known their hopes to be vain. For
these hopes they were exposing themselves to hardship and scorn, stripes and prison, and were ready to
suffer a cruel and untimely death. They counted
these sufferings " not worthy to be compared with the
glory that was to be revealed." Even had they been
willing to encounter them all the same, without thought
of a future, they should have known it. It was right
that the terms should be before them, and that Christ
should not accept their services and sufferings on a
false presumption.'" He would have told them."
And shall there not be the same equity in God?
Here is a conscience implanted in man which urges
him to surrender all things, even life itself, that he
may meet the final Judge with a smile. Here are men
who have faced the most terrible deaths in obedience




298        MAN'S HOPE OF IMMORTALITY
to the call of truth, and have entered the fire and
mounted the scaffold joyfully because they saw the
God of truth beckoning them on. And was the vision
a phantasm, flickering in the flames, permitted, if not
formed, by God to delude them, and were the ashes
scattered by the winds all that remained of those
hearts of faith? They might have been unselfish
enough to have served Him all the same, since love to
Himself, and not any selfish hope of his heaven, was
their motive, but surely they should have known it.
If Divine equity can have the law of the universe
move on amid a perpetual delusion, and be subserved
by it, then God's justice is something else than the
image of it which He has formed within us.
There is still another element of character which
would have led Christ to undeceive his disciples, had
He known their hopes to be false, - his goodness.
At first sight it might seem as if it were kinder to
suffer them to dream on, since all their regrets would
be quenched in extinction. But, apart from truth and
justice, a heart of genuine pity could not bear to see
the highest hopes perpetually bursting into nothingness, as if human souls were only air-bells, flushing
into rainbow colors, to vanish out of existence. Let
us imagine for a moment that Christ was walking
beside them, listening to their happy converse of the
vision of God and the communion of saints in an
eternal home above the skies, while all the time He
was aware of the dreadful secret that a few steps
before them was the fathomless grave into which they
were stumbling, with no consciousness and no awakening any more. And could that large and loving heart




UNCONTRADICTED BY GOD.           299
have borne the sight without tears of anguish, which
would have told the terrible loss, if words had failed
Him? Though their sleep might be too deep to be
broken by a dream of all the God-like aspirations they
had cherished and lost for ever, He could not have
endured the sight, and if there were beings besides in
the universe of God, who beheld such extinction of
hope, we feel as if it would poison their celestial joy
to behold spirits, panting for God's immortality, and
the cup of life constantly dashed down as it touched
their lips.
And, if we carry such a thought still upward, what
shall we reckon of the heart of a God of mercy who
could look on such a scene with silent composure? If
there be compassion in Him, like that which we attribute to a Christ, or even like the poor spark of it which
is kindled in us, could He preside with, dumb indifference over a world where He is saved from the bitter cry of deception only because his creatures cannot
wake to tell Him of their cruel and eternal disappointment?
To raise such dreadful thoughts is surely to answer
them. We could not bear the scene, and how should
He? If this life were indeed all, would not the goodness of God bring man's wishes within the circle of his
brief existence, and not suffer him to tantalize himself
with the lights and shadows, the hopes and fears, of anll
eternity which shall never dawn? If this life were all,
why should man be made to mourn for the dead, with
a grief that has no likeness upon earth? why the deep
undying memory, the tomb, the cherished dust, the
treasured image in the heart, till the heart beats no




300        MA N'S HOPE OF IMMORTALITY
more? If there be life beyond, then the most agQnizing grief and bitter tears may belong to a scheme of
mercy, for they endure only for a night, and can lead
to infinite compensation. But if death be all, the
kindness of this world's Maker would surely have
caused parting to leave a less deep and lengthened
sting. Otherwise, the hardened and heartless would
be the fittest for such a world, and the tenderest and
most loving would be made most wretched by that
which, in them, is the likest to God. Could God permit such dishonor to his dearest attribute of love?
Besides the character of God from which we have
been here arguing, there is the relation which exists between Him and his human creatures. It also is fitted
to excite hopes corresponding to those cherished by
the disciples from their Master's relation to them, and
it, too, would claim something like this promised contradiction,-" If it were not so, I would have told
you.
One of the first of these relations is that of a Teacher.
Christ had led his disciples to look to Him for instruction in all the great interests of life. He had spoken
to them of God's character, of his works and will, had
taught them to recognize his hand in bird and flower,
in the world of men and in their own hearts. He
made them feel the depth of sin, and showed them
how they were to be delivered from it, and these things
had been to them bread and water of life. Had He
spoken of no future world, the cry of their hearts
would still have been, " Evermore, Lord, give us this
bread." And had Christ known that this cry was
vain, it would have been unworthy of Him to stimu



UNCONTRADICTED BY GOD.         301
late it. He would have convinced them that the desire was unreasonable, or He would have carefully
guarded against exciting it.
Now God has taken up a relation like this to his intelligent creature, man. He has spread around him
manifold fields of knowledge, traversed by open paths
of inquiry. He has allured him to the study of his
wide universe, by glimpses of truth which fill his soul
with a thrill as he looks, and with a passion to pursue
the search. He has sent out gleams of his own infinite
nature, of his majesty and wisdom and goodness, which
make man feel how sweet are the beams which come
from that fountain, how pleasant it must be for ever to
behold that sun. Such truths satisfy a desire in man,
but they also excite it. And when God has thus become our Teacher, and begun to fill our minds with
wonderful thoughts of his universe and Himself, can
we believe that, in that day, He will suffer all our
thoughts to perish? To have such lessons commenced,
cannot but raise the hope that they will end in something definite and complete. He would have told us
were it otherwise, or, having command of both the
scholar and the books, He would have prevented the
birth of such a fruitless expectation.
A relation higher than instruction is the drawing out
of the heart's affections. Although Christ had never
required the love of his disciples, they could not have
helped rendering it.  His words and his conduct
bound them to Him irrevocably, and when they were
asked if they would abandon Him for any other, they
could only say, " Lord, to whom shall we go?" Fear
overcame them for a moment, but, though they fled




302        MAN'S HOPE OF IMMORTALITY
from his cross, they gathered to his grave, and followed
Him on to their own, through tortures and martyrdoms, in the hope that they would meet Him at last
with joy.
Now, let us suppose for an instant, that, by some
strange arrangement, immortality was for Him but not
for them. The supposition, however unnatural, contains the illustration we need. Let us suppose that
when He ascended, the love which He had kindled in
them followed Him up into the depths of heaven, never
to be followed by themselves, and that He sat down
upon his throne to forget those who remembered Him
till death. Then the love had failed, not on the part
of earth but heaven,- not the mortal friend but the
immortal Master would have been guilty of cold forgetfillness. He would surely never have drawn out
affection if He had intended such a close to it, nor
taught it to cluster round Himself with twining arms
and fragrant blossoms if it was to wither in a night.
And yet, if we are never to awake from our graves,
this is the manner of the God that made us. He has
attracted our love to Himself by his works and ways,
by the beauties of his world and the bounties of his
hand, and, if his countenance be sometimes stern and
clouded, He has prompted our hearts to press in toward his heart through the dark, and to believe that
all the cloud is but the hiding of a Father's face. The
Book, which we say comes from Him, may have its
origin denied, but it has sprung up in his world from
hearts which He has made, and it contains the record,
and becomes the source, of affections which hold fast to
Him in the midst of all changes. He has permitted,




UNCONTRADICTED BY GOD.          303
if He has not arranged, that there should be an outflow
of constant and undying love to Him, such as is seen
above all in the Bible and its results, - a love which
cannot be satisfied with one passing look, but which
longs for an eternal gaze. And, if He meant never
to meet its desire, would He not be allowing a love to
spring up in the human heart, stronger and truer than
his own; for man's would be perpetually struggling to
overpass death, while God's would coldly yield to it?
This relation of affection rises into the higher one
of fellowship. It is affection entering on the exchange of
thought and feeling. The bond between Christ and
his disciples, of mutual converse and appeal, finds its
counterpart in the bond between God and many souls
of men in this world. Not only has God put his
works in such a way before men that his mode of
thinking, the links of reasoning, the checks and
counter-checks in his operations, come before them as
from a fellow-man; not only has He spread before
them the delicacies of his taste, in his exquisite forms
and colors, and shut up tender thoughts, "too deep
for tears," in every flower, but he has impelled them
to put their thoughts and feelings before Him. There
are times when such a pressure is laid upon us that we
are forced to send our wishes out to God. It is as
strong, it is a stronger, necessity for some men to speak
to God, than it is for others to speak to their fellowcreatures. This instinct of prayer is acknowledged
in all religions; it is expressed, almost unconsciously, in
the broken cry, " 0 God! " that is wrung from a man's
lips in suffering. Whence has come this spontaneous
recourse to prayer, which withstands all arguments?




304        MAN'S HOPE OF IMMORTALITY
Let it be granted that it is the Bible which has given
to this feeling clearness and consciousness, and let us
suppose, meanwhile, that it is no more than a human
book. It must in any case meet a human want,
and express a human desire.  If it is not God's
heart meeting man, it is man's heart meeting God, and
seeking a fellowship with his Maker, which cannot but
be of his Maker's prompting. If not direct and supernatural, as Christians hold, yet indirect and natural,
from the constitution which God has given to man,
and to the world in which he has placed him. In any
case, there is interchange of thought arranged between
God and the soul of man.
And when, in the trust and joy of this fellowship,
the soul looks forward to.its continuance, can we believe that God would permit it, in this, to be for ever
deceived? - that He would neither save it from death,
nor seek to bring its desires within the compass of its
inevitable doom? Can this be the kindness of God to
his friends? If Christ could not have buried such
a secret in his heart from those who trusted Him, we
feel that it would be unworthy of God to act on any
other principle, that he must be true and transparent
in his friendship, and either fulfil the desire of those
who fear Him, or convince them that the desire is unattainable: 1" If it were not so, I would have told you."
The more we dwell on the line of thought we have
sought to present, the more, we believe, will its truth
appear, - that the desire of immortality in man, and
the hope of it, may be cherished all the more strongly
by us, because there are reasons for God contradicting
it, if the hope were false. He has contradicted it in




UNCONTRADICTED BY GOD.           305
the lower creatures; that is, He has not suffered it to
spring up. He has bestowed no such constitution on
them, and entered into no such ties, as could lead
them  to indulge the expectation.  Their eyes wait
upon Him for no gift like this, and those who dream
of a second life for them can only do it of arbitrary
fancy, not because the rudiments of it are there already
in their relation to God.
He has contradicted prevalent falsities in human
nature in various ways.  Apart from  supernatural
utterance, which we do not here appeal to, there is the
progress of reason, the growth of conscience, the rise
of the soul's highest life, which make superstitions and
immoralities that have covered whole ages and nations
to pine and die. In these ways, He tells man what is
false, but here it is in proportion as the soul grows,
and sin dies, that this hope increases, and it is strongest when we find our highest intuitions answered in the
light and life of God.
We can account for this hope being so dim and uncertain among vast masses of our fellow-creatures, and for
the highest form of it reaching its certainty and clearness only through painful struggles. Reason and conscience and the love of true freedom, which have all of
them their roots in human nature, are checked and perverted by the tyranny of material interests, and much
more may it be expected that the hope of immortality, which is still more of the spiritual, should be
slow to grow to strength. God has made his best gifts
in this world only to be reached through toil, and the
steadfast view of the future is to be gained as the eye
is purged from impurity. There must be also a pro20




306        MAN'S HOPE OF IMMORTALITY
portion observed in the opening up of a future life,
that it may not overbalance the present, and unfit men
for needful work, and this equilibrium is preserved by
letting it in slowly through the spiritual vision. At
the basis of all these, lies the great cause of every
darkness, sin, which has overclouded man's view of
Divine things, and which gives way gradually as God's
plan of education for his world progresses.
Some such reasons will account for the hope of immortality being to many so dim, but that its germs
should be found so wide and so constant in human
nature, that it should come to its highest perfection
when it approaches most into conscious nearness to
God, and that, after all, it should be utterly futile,
this would be entirely and for ever unaccountable.
That God should permit hesitation and struggle before
man reaches a glorious certainty, is in keeping with
that law of our world which sets lions to guard the
access to the gates of the palace of truth everywhere;
but that, in answer to the highest struggle of the
human soul, there should only be a blank and ghastly
negative — that man should be formed by nature or
destiny, or whatever we may call it, to struggle on
hopelessly till he stumbles into the yawning gulf, - is
against every analogy around us - and, if we choose
to call the Being who ordains it, God, and to believe
Him to be faithful and benevolent, it is against every
law of truth and kindness with which we are acquainted,-against the deepest principles of them
which have been planted by Him in ourselves. We
may apply to it with full conviction the principle here
announced by Christ — If it were not so, He would
have told us.




UNCONTRADICTED BY GOD.          307
In the midst of this reasoning we can suppose the
objection frequently offered, Wherefore grope in twvilight, when life and immortality have been brought to
light in Christ? Do we not set aside his revelation as
valueless when we have recourse to such arguments?
But let it be considered, that we have also those to
deal with who deny the authority of Christ, while they
admit a God.  It is surely something to show that
immortality is closely linked with any true faith in a
Divine Being, nay, with the proper view of a moral
order in the history of the world. If this life be all,
not only is the Bible false, but our highest nature is
that which deceives us most, and the noblest aspirations and struggles of the best of men have a falsehood
at their heart.
Neither let us be afraid of disparaging the Bible by
leading men to spiritual convictions through any path
that is true. He who is brought, in any way, to a
thorough belief in immortality is not further from
Christ, but nearer to Him. When he comes to learn
what a precious pearl he has in his bosom, he may see
that it can be trusted only with One, and that all that
the Bible says Christ has done for it, is eminently reasonable, and worthy both of the soul and of Him.
Moreover, if we lay aside the Bible for a while as a
book of authority, and appeal to it merely as a book
of fact and experience, - as a history of the human
spirit feeling after God, —we may reach its Divine
origin in another way. If it presents to us the highest view both of God and man, it may be presumed
that what conducts the human race to the one great
truth, could not have its origin in a system of impos



308        MAN'S HOPE OF IMMORTALITY
ture. The well that springs to everlasting life must
have had its fountain as high as its final flow. And
so by reasoning from Christianity, as a mere record of
human thought about God, forward to the faith in an
eternal life, we may find our way back to Christ Himself as the root of all right thinking, and to the full
truth about his life and person.
Even for Christians, who admit God's Word as an
ultimate authority, it is very good at times to view the
great articles of their faith on all sides. One, and not
the least, proof of the divinity of the Bible is, that it
meets the truest and highest intuitions of the spirit of
man. But these intuitions must be questioned if we
are to see how they find their answer. This subject
of an eternal life is so vast and momentous that it will
bear to be looked at in every aspect, and under every
incidence of light. It is whether God is building out
of the materials of his universe a gigantic tomb, or a
glorious temple for living worshippers, - whether we
are inscribing empty epitaphs over everlasting graves,
or erecting votive tablets to Him who liveth for ever
and ever, and whose life insures that of all who look
upon his face. This very saying of Christ, — his reasoning with the Sadducees about immortality, in which
He founds it on the relation of our spiritual nature to
God, — the twilight questionings and gropings of the
Psalms and Prophets, - all encourage us to move
round this mighty subject and study it in every point
of view. It is to be like the sculptured image of some
beloved friend, which we gaze upon in light and shadow,
remote and near, and make our own at each angle of
contemplation and in every mood of thought, till it




UNCONTRADICTED BY GOD.          309
becomes instinct with life, and we feel as if the lips
could speak and the features break into a smile.
Still, it is certain that if we would realize the full
truth and blessedness of an eternal life, we must study
it, not in the silence of God, but in his utterances, and,
above all, in the light of Jesus Christ our Lord. Behind and before this saying of his, which we have been
considering, there are words that tell us infinitely more
of a future world than the human mind has been able
to reach with all its reasonings. Nor is it by his word
alone, or even chiefly, that He reveals, but much more
by his person and life, opening the unseen, as the sun
opens the world, by shining, and giving the conviction
of its reality, by the new life which he infuses into the
soul.
It is not by declaring the resurrection, but by being
it within us, that Christ makes us sure and blessed.
Immortality without Him would be vague and formless,
and, when the shadows of an awakened conscience are
cast upon it, gloomy and fearful. To deliver us from
this, more was required than silence. That prayer
was rising from the need and darkness of sinful humanity: " 0 Lord! my rock, be not silent unto me; lest if
thou be silent unto me I become like them that go
down to the pit." And in answer, the silence of God
has broken forth into his WORD, and from the bosom
of the Father, Christ has uttered his voice, " 0 death,
I will be thy plague! 0 grave, I will be thy destruction!" His cross before the gate of death, his throne
behind it, insures the whole. They tell not only of
the certainty, but exceeding glory, of the soul's salvation; of its infinite value as seen by Him who could




310      MAN'S HOPE OF IMMORTALITY, ETC.
not over-date its duration, nor over-estimate its worth,
and who has set his seal upon both, when, to make it
heir of his own life, He gave Himself.
And now, from all the dark suggestions of utter loss
and annihilation, we shall struggle to this fountain of
light, as from funeral vaults into the sun's brightness,
and every view of Him, like every sunbeam, shall be
its own witness,- and opening graves, and rising
saints, putting on their immortal robes, and teeming
mansions of the saved, and crowded courts of them who
study God's eternal ways, and, ever as they study, sing,
shall tell us that God has an end for his universe
higher than our highest thoughts, and worthy of Himself- while, over all, a voice mingled with the music
of harpers playing on their harps, shall proclaim —
" But be ye glad and rejoice for ever in that which I
create, for behold I create Jerusalem a rejoicing and
her people a joy."




XVIII.
IJir'ss  Adam  to  3ntrpose   eaist          ath
" Then when Mary was come where yesus was, and saw him,
she fell down at his feet, saying unto himn, Lord, zf thou hadst
been here, my brother had not died." -JoHN xi. 32.
HE  words of Mary are very touching and natural.  There is a mingled gush of feeling in',;rp  them, which she herself would have found it
difficult to refer to its different sources. All her grief
for her dead brother bursts out.afresh, at the sight of
one who had been so dear a friend to him, and to her.
Veneration and affection for the Great Master, never
so drawn out as in the hour of sorrow, fill her soul.
"' Mary fell down at his feet." Formerly she was willing to sit at them. The soul is never so attracted to
Christ as amid such desolation, - constrained to cling
to " a friend that sticketh closer than a brother."
There is continued confidence in Him, seen in her
address, Lord —still Lord, notwithstanding all that
had happened, - seen in the conviction that an earlier
arrival would have brought deliverance, -" If thou
hadst been here, my brother had not died,"- and




312             CHRIST'S DELAY TO
leading to a hope that He was able to help even in this
extremity, she could not tell how.
It will be observed that Mary uses the very same
words which Martha had already employed, ver. 21.
The reason may be, that they had often used the words
to one another. "If Jesus only would come, - if Jesus
only had come, all might be well." But it seems remarkable that Mary does not go on to finish her appeal
as Martha did, ver. 22, -" But I know, that even now,
whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it
thee."  Was Mary's faith less strong than Martha's?
We think not. Mary's sentence was finished in her
own heart. She had a more intense and impetuous
nature. With its stillness, there was more depth in
it, and she cannot give vent to her feelings in words.
Tears break in upon and check her utterance, for it is
immediately added, ver. 33, " When Jesus therefore
saw her weeping."  She had fallen at his feet, and her
bursting emotion would not allow her to say more,
"Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not
died, but -" and all the faith expressed by Martha,
though unuttered by Mary's lips, is deep within her
soul.
Yet with this faith, there is wonder at the absence
of Christ which verges almost on reproach. " Surely
there must have been reasons for my Lord's delay,
while we wept and prayed for his coming, while every
morning, and through the long day, our eyes sought
the hills where his steps might be first descried. Why
so late when this dead brother of mine, and friend of
thine, was sinking to his grave? "  " Oh, the Hope of
Israel, the Saviour thereof in time of trouble, why
shouldst thou be as a stranger in the land?"




INTERPOSE AGAINST DEATH.         313
Such thoughts as these have since passed through
many a heart, and will do so till the world's close.
What sore strokes befall us, in this matter of death, from
which the Son of God could easily save us, if his power
and his pity be as we are told! They are very natural
thoughts, natural above all, when we watch by the
death-bed and weep over the dead. They were felt by
Mary in Christ's presence, and may be felt by us during his long absence. He has now been away so many
long days, and our dead lie buried, and yet He comes
not. We shall seek to look at the question in the
light which this narrative gives. First, there is the
strangeness of Christ's delay to interpose against
death; and second, some reasons that may account for
it, suggested by this history. The first may give expression to our doubts; the second, help our faith.
I. THE STRANGENESS OF CHRIST'S DELAY TO INTERPOSE
AGAINST DEATH.
Let us turn our thoughts to the circumstances
around us, as Mary and Martha might to the state of
their home in the absence of Christ.
Consider what death is to the sufferer! It is no natural change, no happy translation bearing the sign of
blessedness on its face, as the departure of unfallen
man might have done. It is the end of all earthly sufferings, but, in general, more dreaded than them all.
The token of God's displeasure against sin is on it, and
the abiding shadow of his first threatening. Man's
heart recoils from its accompaniments, - the wasting
decay or the convulsive agony, - the farewell to the
only world we have known, - the rending asunder of




314             CHRIST'S DELAY TO
the dearest ties of affection, and of those closest friends,
body and soul, — the dismissal of our nature to the
corruption of the grave and to a mysterious eternity.
When we see a friend moving forward to this doom,
what means do we not exhaust to save him? When
Thomas heard that Lazarus was dead, he said, "Let
us also go that we may die with him." So did the
death of a dear friend touch his sympathetic heart.
Yet Christ suffered Lazarus to die. And how many
have been struck down by death since, of the most
lovely and loving? What warm hearts and noble souls
have passed through that great gloom, and drunk of
that bitter cup, - beautiful exceedingly with the beauty
of nature and with the grace of the regenerated spirit!
What sad thoughts we have sometimes about the bright
jewels that lie hidden in death's darkness! We were
stricken and stunned when death did not spare them,
at the cruel untimeliness, as it seemed, at the fierce
remorselessness with which the great enemy seized
his prey. And yet when we speak of death, it had no
power without Christ's permission: " Lord, if thou
hadst been here, my brother had not died."
Consider what a bereavement death is to the survivors!
In a Christian death it is not the dead who are to be
mourned, it is those whom they leave. What anxious
days and nights were those after the message had been
sent, " Lord, behold, he whom thou lovest is sick!"
Their brother is sinking to his grave, as each sun sinks
over the western hills, and there is no token of help.
Their look seeks the wasting frame, and then seeks the
path by which Jesus so often drew near. Has He
forgotten his friends, or does He distrust his power?




INTERPOSE AGAINST DEATH.        315
Those, who have passed through it, know what ages
of agony are lived, while the wavering balance is
watched and slowly seen to sink against all our struggles and prayers.
And then the anguish of the parting, — the dumb
despair that cannot find a tear, - the hard apathy, like
a stone on a grave's mouth, that will not let us feel
our way to our loss to weep over it! The slow groping
which follows to realize it,- the struggle, as if emerging from the stupor of death, to find out what a different world it is to which we have come back, - the look
behind to years of love which seem so short, cut off
from us already by an earthquake's gulf, and strange
as if they had never been ours, - the look forward to
a lonely road through a bleak world from which one
blast of desolation has swept the greenness and the
blossom! " Lover and friend hast thou put far from
me, and mine acquaintance into darkness." How often
has the old wailing cry burst from human hearts, how
often the death-scene of Bethany been renewed in the
homes of men! The childless mother and the orphan,
the wife and sister, lover and friend, have wrestled in
agony over the dying and moaned over the dead, and
none seemed to listen. They felt there should be power of help somewhere, and writhed towards it. And
the appeals remained unanswered. Does it not seem
strange? "' Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother
had not died."
Consider what a ground of reproach death has furnished to the enemies of Christ! There was no want
of unbelieving Jews in Bethany to take advantage of
Christ's absence in this crisis. Some of them said,




316            CHRIST'S DELAY TO
"' Could not this man who opened the eyes of the blind,
have caused that even this man should not have died? "
But, beyond this more friendly question, there must
have been hard thoughts of unbelief- the resolve to
read all Christ's past by this delay. Whisperings and
shakings of the head there were, no doubt, in plenty,
breaking out into open speech, as still He came not.
" These wonderful histories and great promises have
been brought to a decisive test, and Lazarus, the friend
of Jesus, must die and be buried like all of us. Let
Him deliver him, seeing He delighted in him." It
must have added vinegar to the gall of those sisters'
grief to hear the taunt. Their faith was assailed from
without, when it was questioned by their hearts within.
Something like the feeling of the Psalmist must have
been theirs, -" My tears have been my meat day and
night, while they continually say unto me, Where is
thy God?"
A longer interval of death has allowed time for a
louder concert of reproach. As we look into the grave
after each new occupant, all is hushed. There is " no
motion in the dead," no breath in the sky to whisper
of a coming dawn. And men of carnal sense gather
round and set their seal upon the grave -" Where is
the promise of his coming? for since the fathers fell
asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation."  Even the Christian heart
feels as if there were something strange in the way in
which Christ abides out of sight, and moves not a step
for all the scorn. It wearies for some interposition to
vindicate his claim. " Arise, 0 God, plead thine own
cause; remember how the foolish man reproacheth




INTERPOSE AGAINST DEATH.         317
thee daily; the tumult of those that rise up against
thee increaseth continually."
There is still another way in which the strangeness
of the delay may strike us - when we turn our thoughts
from our own circumstances to Christ, as the sisters
of Bethany did, and when we consider the just expectations we have of interposition from Him.
We believe that Christ is fully aware of our need.
When a friend fails us through innocent ignorance, we
do not blame him. What pains us is his persistent
absence when he knows our extremity. So soon as
these sisters apprehended danger, they sent the message to Jesus, " Lord, behold, he whom Thou lovest is
sick! " They appear to have added no request to it.
" It is enough if Jesus knows - this will bring Him to
our side." And when He did not come, and day after
day passed on, we can imagine the messenger questioned
and re-questioned how he gave his message, and how
the Master seemed to apprehend it. " Could He but
see this wasting frame and our fears He would not fail
us."
Whatever Martha and Mary thought of the knowledge of Christ, it is our faith that He understands all
our need. When we send up the prayer, "Lord,
behold, he whom Thou lovest is sick," it is only because
He will be inquired of by us. With the omniscience
of the Son of God, He sees the dwellers upon earth,
and, with the experience of the Son of Man, He comprehends their sorrows. " If you only knew what I suffer,"
we say to a friend, as if his conception of it would
call out a sympathy that would bear us up in its hands.
Yet Christ knows it all. He can draw nearer than the




318             CHRIST'S DELAY TO
nearest, feel the palpitating heart, read the anguish we
cannot utter- and his foot does not step forward to
the rescue. Is it not strange?
We believe, further, that Christ has full power to
interpose. The mourners of Bethany express their conviction of it, ver. 22 - -" I know, that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee."
And Christ expresses it in his prayer to his Father,
ver. 42 — " I know that thou hearest me always." For
it is our faith that He has not only the omnipotence of
Divinity, but the moral right and power from having
paid the ransom price. When He said upon his cross,
" It is finished," God raised Him from the dead, and
set Him at his own right hand in heavenly places, as
the sign that the way is clear to abolish death —to
destroy it for ever in regard to all who look to Him as
the Resurrection and the Life. Who, in this, could
resist his will?  The keys of the unseen world and of
death hang at his girdle. That He should be so slow
to put his authority into exercise, when such tides of
suffering would be rolled back, and such a flood of overwhelming joy set in, must occasion to many Christians
strange thoughts.
For, last of all, on this part of the subject, we cannot
doubt the desire of Christ to interpose. The evangelist
is careful to remind us of this feature of it, ver. 5" Now Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus.
When He had heard therefore that he was sick He
abode two days still in the same place where He was."
It is a strange therefore which conjoins such love and
seeming indifference. Then follows that account of
the conduct of Christ which is filled with such everlast



INTERPOSE AGAINST DEATH.        319
ing consolation to a dying world, and which yet suggests so many wondering questions, ver. 33 -" When
Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also
weeping which came with her, He groaned in the
spirit and was troubled, and said, Where have ye laid
him? They said unto Him, Lord, come and see. Jesus
wept."
But, if He felt so deeply for his friends, why did He
not come sooner to comfort them and interpose in their
behalf? And, if He meant now to interpose, and knew
what He was about to do at the grave of Lazarus, why
should He weep? However we may answer such
questions, we must never doubt that the tears of Christ
were not seeming, but deeply real, and that the groans
of his spirit came from true sympathy with human sorrow. He wept as those mourners did, although he
might weep with " larger, other eyes than theirs "weeping, not with them only, but with mourners without number, as He looked abroad over the world, and
down through all time - with every bereaved heart,
and with each solitary soul which thinks that its way
is hid from the Lord, and its judgment passed over by
its God. Yet here our perplexity still rises. If so He
feels, and if He has power and right to interpose, why
does He delay so long?  " He abides still in the same
place," and leaves us pining in sickness, agonizing in
pain, bowed down in sorrow, and going forward to mix
our tears and our dust in a common grave. We cry
like the disciples in the storm to their sleeping Master,
" Lord, carest thou not that we perish? " and to us he
does not awake so soon. "0  the Hope of Israel, why
shouldest thou be as a man astonied, as a mighty man




320             CHRIST'S DELAY TO
that cannot save?  Yet thou, 0 Lord, art in the midst
of us, and we are called by thy name " (Jer. xiv. 8).
Our very confidence in Christ's ability and willingness to help us, thus becomes the occasion of bewildering doubts, and our faith passes through that painful
struggle, " Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbelief."
We consider, then,
II. SOME OF THE REASONS FOR CHRIST'S DELAY WHICH
MAY BE FOUND IN THIS HISTORY.
We say " in this history."  Other reasons might be
found in the whole Divine plan, as it is revealed in the
Bible, and others probably there are outside the Bible
and our present life, in the unknown counsels and universe of God. Yet even from this history much may
be drawn, if we examine it with attention. The works
of Christ are all of them mirrors for the history of the
world, bringing into a small compass what is permanently and universally true, and, if the Spirit takes of
the things that are Christ's and shows them unto us, we
may have light on some of the difficult questions that
concern our own life and death. We shall try to follow
these reasons in the order suggested by the narrative
itself.
One reason why Christ delays to interpose against
death is, that his friends tnay learn confidence in Him
when dying, and have an opportunity of showing it. We
have no account of the manner of Lazarus's death, and
we shall not seek to imagine it. It may have been a
joyful one in its expression, -or simply peaceful, -
or silent, as many a good man dies and gives no sign.
But the truth remains in all, that death is a great sea



INTERPOSE AGAINST DEATH.          321
son of instruction to the friends of Christ. Sometimes
we can see the process; at other times it is between
Him and the soul alone - sometimes it may be slow,
or, again, as rapid as in the lesson He gave on his cross
to him who hung beside Him; but we must believe
that the period of death has its peculiar use in every
spiritual history.
The great end of Christ's dealing with any soul is to
convince it that in Him it has an all-sufficient life, and
that with Him it can pass safely through every emergency. We have to learn that we are " complete in
Him." We can never learn this in words or by thinking. It must be taught us in the reality of life itself.
He takes away from us one thing after another- the
friends, the affections, the aims of youth, - while He
becomes to us a deeper and truer possession. But this
course of teaching would want its crown if it did not
end in death. Death is the withdrawal of all human
supports from around the soul, of its closest affections,
of its earth-born vesture and home, of the very body
which is its second self- that it may be alone with
Christ, and feel Him to be enough for it -more to it
than every created thing. He invites the soul, and
constrains it, to put all its confidence into that last act
of surrender - to cast itself, bare of every aid, but his,
into the mysterious infinite, —knowing Him in whom
it believes, and feeling that underneath it are his everlasting arms. For a soul to learn this perfect confidence in Christ, it must die.
On the part of Christ, again, it is the last touch of
that purifying fire which He employs to melt the fallen
nature, - free it from its dross, - and fuse it into his
21




322             CHRIST'S DELAY TO
own likeness for access to Himself in the heaven of
heavens. It is not by any mechanical process that He
thus purifies the soul. It can only be by a close spiritual approach to it. But we know something of this
manner of dealing with us, even in life. There are
supreme moments of experience when we seem to live
ages, and when all our past history ripens into God's
one great lesson for us. Such a moment is that of
death, in which Christ matures the soul for the life to
come - draws it aside to Himself- presses it, in solitude and secrecy, for a while to his own heart and
fulfils his words, —" If I go and prepare a place for
you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself;
that where I am, there ye may be also."
And yet, sometimes, it is not done so secretly but
that the sparkles which fall from the jewel reveal what
He is doing for it, and where He means to set it. The
looks and words of a Christian, when dying, are part
of the end for which Christ permits death. It is that
dying, as well as living, he may show himself to be the
Lord's. To accomplish all thisfor the soul, and through
it, Christ delays his interposition, and the difficulty in
the case of Lazarus is not so much that he died, as
that he was brought back from the grave to fight life's
battle a second time.
Another reason why Christ permits death is, that the
sorrowing friends may learn entire reliance on Him. It
is a subject for study in this chapter how Christ leads
on these sisters from a dead brother to the Resurrection and the Life, and teaches them through their loss
to gain what they never could lose any more. Had He
snatched Lazarus from the brink of death, they would




INTERPOSE AGAINST DEATH.           323
have trembled again at his every sickness, but, when
they learn to find their brother in Christ, they are
secure of him for ever, and they discover in Christ himself more than their heart conceived," One deep love doth supersede
All other, when her ardent gaze
Roves from the living brother's face,
And rests upon the Life indeed."
Christ separates our friends from us for a while that
we may learn to find our all in Himself. He makes
their grave the seed-bed of immortal hopes, which shall
give us back every thing that is good in the past, and a
joy with it like the joy of harvest. The expression of
our resignation in bereavement is as much a triumph
of his grace as the calmness He gives to our dying
friends. When Martha and Mary can still call Him
" Lord," and when their " hope can smile on all other
hopes gone from them," - when they can clasp Christ
as their portion amid desolation around and within,'Christ Himself is justified in the permission of death.
Another reason which follows this in the order both
of the narrative and of nature is, that, in the midst of
death, the union of sympathy between Christ and his
friends is perfected. Jesus had given many convincing
proofs of his love to the household of Bethany while
Lazarus lived, but none with that touching tenderness
in it which came forth at his grave. The fellowship
of suffering brings hearts and lives together more than
all the fellowship of joy. There must have been a Divine compassion in the Redeemer's look which melted
Mary's soul as she fell at his feet and felt that her
grief was also his. And when his grief broke out into




324             CHRIST'S DELAY TO
that trouble of spirit at the grave, when his heart was
overpowered by it and Jesus wept,- the mourners
knew that He was one with them. Gethsemane shows
us the agony of Christ's soul for man's sin - the grave
of Bethany his agony of heart at man's suffering. All
that sad, sorrowful walk to the sepulchre where He
mingled his tears with theirs, was as necessary to make
them feel the sympathy of his soul, as was the great
deliverance when He said " Lazarus, come forth." Nor
need we be at all stumbled by the objection that He
could not feel so deeply since He knew what he was
about to do. A man may pity the breaking heart of
a child although he can see away beyond its short sorrow, and God pities us in the midst of our life's troubles
though He perceives the speedy end of them. Be very
sure of this, that Christ's grief was as genuine as theirs,
-and that the compassion of God and of his Son is
as true at every step of the road to the grave as it is
when it rises up at last into full redemption and the
gate of the grave is thrown wide open. To form this
fellowship of suffering oin the way to death is one reason why Christ permits it. He says, "' When thou
passest through the waters I will be with thee," and
we are brought to reply, "' We did pass through the
flood on foot, there did we rejoice in Him."
Consider this further, that it is by delaying to interpose against death that God makes this a world of spiritual probation. When He abode in the same place
and lingered on his way to Bethany, Christ tried the
character, not only of the sisters, but of all who knew
the case. Superficiality fell away, - secret unbelief
broke out into scorn, - and those alone stood the test




INTERPOSE AGAINST DEATH.         325
whose souls had sought and found in Him what the
soul needs. Christ's delays are the touchstones of
spiritual life.
You who would have Him never suffer the tears of
his people to fall,- who would wish Him to heal his
friends so soon as they are sick, — or raise them to
life the instant that they die, reflect on what you ask.
You would lead men to seek Him, not from the love
they bear Himself, but from their desire for his outward benefits, and would create, in your impatience, a
world of formalism and hypocrisy, - the very world
which God disproved in the face of Satan when he said,
"Doth Job fear God for nought?" But God defers
the time for interposition - makes all things outwardly
come alike to all, —and causes calamity and death to
visit with an impartial step the homes of his friends,
- in order that he may sift men's characters and prepare them for the day of judgment. Those who would
have Christ interpose immediately against death mistake entirely the structure of the world we are placed
in. To be consistent, they should go back and remonstrate against the creation of responsible agents, and
the possibility of sin which flows from it. Death is
the consequence of these things, and it is at the same
time a veil let down over the face of God's throne, to
hide spiritual things from the eye of sense, and to
make faith the instrument of the soul's recovery and
training. Death cannot be abolished until the history
of this world is completed.
We mention, as a last reason for Christ's delay to
interpose against death, that he brings in thereby a
grander final issue. Had He come and arrested this




326             CHRIST'S DELAY TO
sickness midway, or raised Lazarus to life so soon as
he died, the gladness of the friends would not have
been so great, nor would his own triumph over death
have been so illustrious. But He patiently waits his
hour, while the mourners weep and the scoffers scorn.
Men must interpose when they can, but the Son of
God interposes when He wills. The wisdom  with
which He chooses his time makes his delay not callous
nor cruel, but considerate of our best interests in withholding for a while that he may bless us at last with
an overflowing hand. Could the mourners see it as
He does, they would willingly acquiesce, and would
go forth, patiently sowing in tears that they might have
a more abundant reaping-time of joy.
It is in this interval of delay that our life is cast.
The world is represented by this home of Bethany
before Christ reached the grave, and all the phases of
character, and all the stages of Christ's progressive
advance, may be seen in the hearts of men around us.
But at whatever step of his journey man's faith may
discern Him, He is surely on his way. The tide of
eternal life is setting in toward the world of graves,
and its swell and its murmur can be already perceived
by all who have a soul to feel the heaving of Christ's
heart.  Amid the tears and sobs of the bereaved
friends whose sorrows still touch Him, He is moving
to the sepulchre. His presence, though unseen, can
be heard and felt in whispered consolations, — in the
faith and hope which his Spirit infuses into the soul.
Those, who know Him for what He is, recognize a
Friend who weeps in sympathy with them, and who
walks by their side to the tomb which his voice shall




INTERPOSE AGAINST DEATH.         327
yet open. The delay seems long, but He counts the
hours as we do; and not for a single one shall He linger
beyond what infinite wisdom sees fit. One result of
this delay shall be a grander final issue. He permits
his friends to descend with broken ranks into the swellings of Jordan, but He shall lead them forth on the
other side in one fully marshalled and bannered host.
He puts the jewels one by one into his crown within
the secret of his palace, that He may bring them out
at last resplendent and complete as a royal diadem
from the hand of his God. Patient waiting shall have
its full compensation on that day, and Divine delay
justify itself before the universe in glorious and everlasting results. Could we see to the end, it would
reconcile us even now. He discerns it for us, and
withholds his hand from premature and imperfect
interference. After their burst of weeping, He hushes
the separate voices for a season in the silence of death,
till they can awake and sing in full harmony, that their
united praise may still the enemy and the avenger, and
be his glory and their own joy for ever.
One thing connected with all these reasons, and impressed upon us by the present narrative, cannot be
omitted, that there is a fitness in Christ being absent
from the world while death reigns. Mary felt this,
" Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not
died." Christ could not be present and see death
strike down his friends without. interposing. We
never read that this enemy of man was permitted to
exercise his power before the open face of the Son
of God. It would be inconsistent with the honor of
Him who is the Lord of life. And therefore Christ




328            CHRIST'S DELAY TO
must be absent from the world while death and the
grave maintain their sway. This is befitting his
dignity, and it furnishes one reason more why we
should desire the appearing of that blessed and gracious face before which death and every shadow shall
flee away. Meantime He gathers the fold of his cloud
over his countenance, that we may not think He looks
with cold indifference on our anguish, until He shall
withdraw the veil fully and for ever. Happy those to
whose eye of faith the cloud is already pierced, and
who feel in the heart that sunshine of his face which
shall give life and light at last to all the dead in
Christ.
What a miserable earth would it be without this
hope, without this possession!-rthe desolate home
of Bethany without the great Friend —men dying,
mourners weeping, graves filling up, and death reigning for ever! Why then should a world exist to pass
through ceaseless anguish to such a close,- to be a
wide eternal burying-ground, where tears are only
dried on the cheek by death, but never wiped away by
the hand of God? How should our hearts leap up
with exulting joy to think that there is a Christ, and
how should we thank Him, as we alone can, by accepting Him as God's unspeakable gift! There is a way
of being certain of this blessed hope, by having Him
now in the soul as its life.  If we are quickened from
the death of trespasses and sins, and raised up to sit
with Him even now in heavenly places, we know that
He can and will redeem us from the power of the grave.
There must be a world in reserve for such a divine
life. It will no more be an incredible thing with us




INTERPOSE AGAINST DEATH.         329
that God should raise the dead. And now, on the
way, the great Lord and Giver of life is pressing on
you his gracious offer, without which immortality has
no ray of clearness or of joy. Jesus said, " I am the
resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me,
though he were dead, yet shall he live; and whosoever
liveth and believeth in me shall never die! Believest
thou this?" See that ye refuse not Him that speaketh,
and rest not till with all your heart you can reply,
"Yea, Lord: I believe that thou art the Christ, the
Son of God, which should come into the world."




XIX.
fuda  and a    fh  rists.'nd of tl si[oiaiion.
"' Saying, I have sinned, in that I have betrayed the innocent
blood. And they said, What is that to us? See thou to that." -
MATT. xxvii. 4.
4    CERTAIN gloss of interpretation has come
Gil in of late upon the character of Judas, which
tries to present it in a milder light than that
in which it was formerly regarded.
It is said, that, after all, he may not have intended to
betray his master to the death of the cross. He was
one of those Jews who believed very strongly in an
earthly kingdom, and in the mission of Jesus of Nazareth to establish it, - an error which he shared with
his fellow-disciples. He was more impatient than the
rest to bring Jesus to declare for it, and took a very
rash step to gain his end. His hope was that when
Christ was in the hands of the high priest and the
Roman governor, He would throw away all reserve,
and come forth as a conqueror and king. It was, in
short, not the money Judas looked to, but the idea.
He was not, in the proper sense, guilty of treachery,
but of a mistake, and merely sought to thrust Christ




JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS.          331
from the temple pinnacle, in the belief that he would
rise to a loftier position.
However this particular comment may have been
intended, it is one of a class which begins by effacing
what it reckons dark spots in the Bible, and ends by
darkening the bright. There are depths and heights
in the mystery of sin and salvation which go together,
and whatever takes away from the possibility of the
soul's fall, weakens its capacity for ascent. If all sin
could be shown to be only a mistake of judgment,
there would be no need of Christ and redemption
through his blood, and with the ineffable sorrows
would depart the infinite joys.
The attempt may seem ingenious, but in some things
ingenuity is the worst token of truth. The Bible has
no doubt still much to be found out by diligent search,
but in an estimate of character, in.the very centre of
New-Testament history, the immense probability is
that the judgment of centuries and of the Church
universal is right.
It is a gloss that is entirely out of keeping with the
drift of the Gospel narrative. The character of Judas
is streaked long before with the sin which led to his
final crime. He murmured at the token of affection
which was given to Christ, because he wished to turn
it to his own covetous advantage. He was a thief, and
he had the bag, and hypocritically put forward the
poor as a pretext to gain his own selfish ends. When
he went out on his treacherous errand it is said, "Satan entered into him," and though this has been compared with our Lord's word to Peter (Matt. xvi. 23),
"Get thee behind me, Satan," the expression of fact




832          JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS.
in a calm narrative is surely very different from the
indignant rejection which our Lord applied, not to the
apostle, but to his suggestion. When Judas went out
on his errand he went alone, as feeling that he had no
sympathy in the hearts of the rest. He chose night
and secrecy for his bargain. He covenanted to take
money, and did take it, and if the amount was paltry
for so great a crime, it proves not that there was any
higher motive, but that covetousness can bring down
the soul to the most miserable price.
Much has been founded on the expression (Matt.
xxvii. 3), " Judas, which had betrayed him, when He
saw that he was condemned,"- as if he had expected
that Christ would free Himself before it came so far;
but the remorse of Judas at this moment can be perfectly explained by the full consequences of his act
now looking him in the face. It is the murderer's horror when the deed is committed and cannot be undonethat awful revulsion which, among all calculations, is
never reckoned on.
Moreover, if he had expected Christ to free Himself,
as this theory of Judas affirms, his despair should not
have commenced so early. Judas should not have
ceased to hope till the crucifixion was complete. Many
of Christ's past interpositions had taken place in extremity, and why not now? It is clear that it was
not a mistake but a crime that was revealed by the
lightning-flash thrown in upon his soul. His words
prove this: "I have sinned, in that I have betrayed
the innocent blood."  To tone them down to the discovery of a misapprehension, is to rob them of all
their meaning, and of that lesson, so deep and far.




END OF EVIL ASSOCIATION.         333
reaching, which the Church of Christ has always read
in this event, — the greatest sin lying like a black
shadow beneath the world's brightest light.
The chief purpose for which we wish to use this passage is to show the end to which association in sin
conducts. Men join hand in hand for a wicked object,
out of which they hope for common profit. For a
while the alliance lasts, and evil seems to have its laws
and power of coherence as well as good. But conflicting interests rise, and then the nature of the union is
apparent. Sin began by severing the bond between
man and his Maker, and what other bond can henceforth have any permanence? If left to do its will it
would disintegrate God's universe into atoms of selfishness. While the Cross of Christ was being raised
as the centre of spiritual attraction - Divine self-sacrifice, -here, around its base, and in wonderful connection with it, sin was permitted to exhibit its
character of repulsion in the darkest colors. There
are two instructive sides in the separation which
takes place, and we shall consider them in order,Judas and his state of mind; the chief priests and
their conduct toward him.
I. The first thing is, JUDAS, AND THE STATE OF MIND
TO WHICH HE IS BROUGHT.
The most striking way, perhaps, in which we can
consider this, is to attempt to trace in Judas that feature of sin to which we have made reference, - its
tendency to isolate the man who perseveres in it, till
he is left all alone. He begins in the guilt of selfishness and ends in its utter solitude.




334         JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS.
The first effect of his sin is separation from human
companionship. Up to this time, he had lived in the
outward fellowship of Christ and the other chosen
eleven. It may seem strange to us that Christ should
ever have admitted Judas to that number. The only
reasonable account of it which we can form is this,
that our Lord acted by Judas as He did by all the
rest. He accepted him on the ground of a profession
which was consistent as far as human eye could see.
Christ himself received members into his church as
He intended that we should receive them, — for, had
He used his Divine omniscience in his judgments, the
whole structure of his life would have been out of our
reach as an example. Judas accordingly entered among
the apostles, because, in all outward things, and even
in some inward convictions, he was like them.  He
came under the same influences, -- listened to the
same invitations and warnings,- and they were
meant as truly for Judas as for the rest. It would
have gladdened the heart of Christ had Judas yielded
to the voice of mercy. It is not any question for us
how then the Saviour could have suffered for the sins
of men, any more than it is a question how the history
of the world would proceed without the sinful deeds
which are permitted by God and gathered by Him
into the final result. The plan of the universe, in its
lowest or its highest part, does not rest on the doom
of any man to be a sinner. God forbid! There are
manifold doors in the Divine purpose which God
may open or shut as He pleases, but there is one
always shut, — that God should tempt any man to
evil, -and there is one for ever open,- that He wills




END OF EVIL ASSOCIATION.        335
not the death of the sinner, but that he should turn
and live. Whatever difficulties may be in these questions of freedom and decree, we can never permit the
speck of one to touch the Divine purity and mercy.
If Judas had come, he would have been welcomed as
any other.
But he did not come, and gradually the gulf in his
secret soul must have widened between him and those
with whom he outwardly walked. He was with them,
but not of tlhem, and slowly this must have become
apparent to his own consciousness. Next in grievousness to the havoc which a hiddeni sin works in a man's
nature, is the separation of his heart from the fellowship of the good around him, - the sense of shame
and degradation with which lie must compare their
estimate of him with what he really is. He is held to
them by custom and repute, - sometimes by a feeling
of the needed check which their society exercises over
him, —and yet he is more and more repelled by the
want of sympathy and by the necessity for hypocrisy
which becomes every day more irksome.
Yet so long as the great overt act was not committed, Judas could continue in the circle of his former friends. Happy influences were still breathing
round him; he felt that a change of course was yet
open, and he soothed his conscience perhaps with the
thought of one day taking it. If any man is in this
position, let him not delay. It is something to hold
on to the society of the true and good; but it is always
dishonorable to do it falsely, and the connection may
be broken at any moment if we do not join them in
our inmost soul.




336          JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS.
The sin of Judas, long cherished and slowly growing, broke out at last with terrible and open power,
and changed his whole position. It is a great mistake
to say that sin in the heart is the very same as sin
thrown into a deliberate and daring act. They are in
the same line, as our Lord has taught us, but the
external act gives evil a power which it had not before,
and which may prove fatally destructive. It is like a
combustible material, which, if once exploded, may
leave the man's nature a shattered and hopeless wreck.
To repress sin from the actual life is something, - only
let it not stop there, else it is a constant deception and
danger.
When Judas let the character which he had slowly
formed go out into his terrible treachery, he felt as if
a bridge were broken behind him. In that bewildering night in the garden, he was swept from the side of
Christ, and only then did he begin to realize what he
had done and what he had lost. He could no more
look upon the face of the Master he had sold. The
trustful happy circle of the twelve was broken, and
he, of them all, was left utterly alone. However they
might meet in secret, and fearfully, to speak of their
past and their future, - of the death of their love
and hope, - he felt that lie had no more part nor lot
among them. There is not any distance in space or
time, - not any change in circumstances, - which will
so cut a mall off from his fellow-men as one sin will
do. But it will generally be found that this sin is the
outcome of a secret life which stands disclosed by it.
It is God's way of letting us see, even now, what final
judgment will disclose, - the revelation of an utter




END OF EVIL ASSOCIATION.         337
incompatibility, which makes a man seek no more a
fellowship where he never had a true share.
In his terrible solitude, Judas turned to his employers and accomplices. It could scarcely be in the hope
of forming any new ties. Friendships were not at
present in his thoughts, and not to be looked for in
that circle. There was the pressure of despair on him,
— the sting that sometimes drives the criminal to proclaim his sin that others may know the worst of him.
The secret burden of a crime may prove so intolerable
that publicity will feel almost like pardon.
There may have been, too, the prompting which sometimes leads a man to seek any human presence as a
relief from the terror of his own thoughts. He could
not expect that the priests would relax their hold on
Christ for any confession of his, but he may have faintly
looked for some word which could help him against
his own bitter accusations. But here the gulf of separation opens again. The chilling question, " What is
that to us? " and the look which must have accompanied it, told him that, as he had cut himself off from
the good, he was cast off by the wicked. He had served
their purpose, and is thrown away like a broken tool.
Men have been able to dig for each other deep dark
dungeons, far from man's face and God's pleasant sunlight, but there is no fearful pit of solitude like that
which a soul call sink for itself. It may be more rare
that it takes the form of a crime, like that of Judas,
which sets him separate, like a wonder and a terror;
but all sin has this quality in its nature. It divides
from those whose friendship can be trusted, and it can
form no other tie which will endure.
22




338          JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS.
The next thing to be remarked of the sin of Judas
is, that it brought him to a state where he was deserted
by himself. We may call a man self-deserted, when he
cannot be alone with his own thoughts. We have each
of us a personality which we feel to be our real self,
and which lives on amid all change and circumstance.
But, with this, there is a circle of thoughts and feelings different from this self, and yet inseparably connected with it. They are the inner home which every
soul is engaged in fashioning for itself, and which is
destined to be its eternal dwelling-place. As long as
we can keep company with its memories and hopes, we
are never in utter solitude. When we have to turn
away from it, we are alone indeed.
Let us say here, that there are some who do turn
away from it without being in the worst case. A
calamity may have crazed the brain, or a morbid spectre looked in on the heart and jarred the sweet strings
of their nature, and alienated them from life and self,
as Job seems to have been. We all know where the
wrong lies, not in the book of the soul, but in the
man's disordered reading of it; and how sure we may
be that, if not here, yet hereafter, he will be made to,
see light in God's light. The jarred strings which have
sent forth this temporary discord will give out sweeter
music at last for the strain put upon them.
The terrible self-desertion is when conscience is
roused, and makes the thoughts intolerable because of
the presence of a sin which cannot be got rid of. Backward, forward, upward, this meets the man wherever
he turns his look, and his feeling is that which the
poet has given to the apostate angel, " Me miserable,
which way shall I fly! "




END OF EVIL ASSOCIATION.        339
It may be seldom in this world that one is brought
to such blackness of darkness, but it is certain that
every sin he consciously commits is making him less
able to keep company with himself. He may not take
note of it at the time, but his conscience is doing the
work of the hand on Belshazzar's wall. It is writing
down terrible words, and such a force can be put into
them, that when they are set in order before his eyes,
his knees shall smite together, and he will seek to
escape anywhere from his own thoughts.
Further, it is to be observed that Judas was deserted
by the tempter and the bribe, - deserted, at least, so far
as the false strength is concerned which had hitherto
sustained him. It is the distinct teaching of the gospels
that, besides the chief priests, there was another influence at work outside Judas - the enemy who seduced
man to sin at first, and who still is engaged in the
work of temptation.
The kingdom of evil, as well as that of good, has a
personal head. That he should have the power of
tempting is no more strange than that human spirits
should possess it. He can no more compel than they,
and he gains in influence only as we yield him place.
The experience of many temptations points to such a
power in operation. There is a halo cast round worldly
objects and a glow of passionate attractiveness breathed
into them, which are not in themselves, and which can
scarcely come from the mind that looks on them.
Crimes are committed and souls bartered for such miserable bribes that to the rational spectator it is utterly
unnatural, and the man himself wonders at it when
the delirium is past. Our great dramatic poet has




840          JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS.
seized this feature of sin, —this strange residuum in
temptation, which indicates an extra-human agency,
- and has set it down to those unseen powers of evil
which" palter with us in a double sense." It does not
diminish any man's responsibility, but it should increase his vigilance. Not only are these powers unable
to constrain the will, they have no influence of seduction, no delusive atmosphere at command, where the
heart has not prepared itself for it, by cherishing
the sin long and deeply.
Judas had made ready his own nature for the
tempter. He, and none but he, could have rendered
himself capable of yielding. And now that he has
yielded, the power at work becomes apparent in the
disenchantment which follows. The seducer, in this
form at least, leaves him, and withdraws the allurement of his promise. There is something wonderful,
if it were not so common, in the sight of this fortitude
of the transgressor failing in the very moment of success, in the sudden change in value of what lie had
coveted an hour before, till the silver, which was so
dear, eats his flesh as it were fire, and he casts it from
him like a viper that has stung his hand. It is the act
of a treacherous ally, who has lured his sinful victim
to his selected place, and then deserts him in the instant of his ruin.
Whether men will admit the agency of an unseen
tempter or not, they must grant that a sinful object has
a very different look before and after possession,- that
in the hour of promised enjoyment it shrinks and shrivels, or becomes hideous and loathsome. Whatever we
deduct from the influence of Satan we must attribute




END OF EVIL ASSOCIATION.         341
in a corresponding measure to that of sin, for the fact
remains that the powers of evil, soon or late, abandon
the man who has sold himself to them. They promise
what they never pay, and buoy up with a false courage,
which fails at the moment it is wanted. After sin has
made a man so that he cannot look steadily into his
own soul, it ends by destroying his enjoyment in that
fictitious world of pleasure for which it has induced
him to sell all that is Divine and real. It cheats him
of the substance for a shadow, and of that shadow it
robs him, or changes it into a frightful phantom, from
which he would escape if'he could - as Judas from the
hire of his treachery.
We have seen how sin separates a man from the
friendship of the good, from the sympathy even of the
wicked, from fellowship with his own thoughts, from
pleasure in the thing he coveted; and now we come to
the last feature, the separation it effects between the soul
and God. The first step in sin is such a separation
begun; but there seems to be a stage which a man may
reach in this world when nothing will induce him to
turn his face to Him whom he has abandoned. If a
man under the overwhelming conviction of guilt can
still look to God, it makes his sin seem more sinful,
but it makes the thought of it more supportable, for
it gives him the view of mercy and reparation. There
are no straits in guilt where there is not help in God,
if the man will only hope. But if sin has gained
such power over him, that, though he feels its bitter
fruit, it is less painful to him than the presence and
the thought of God, what is to be done? That which
is reviving light to others is to such a man consuming




342          JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS.
fire, and flight from God's face is sought by him as a
relief and escape.
While the man maintains this position, the nature
within him cannot be changed, and in that nature lies
his misery. The terrible hardness which makes remorse
different from repentance arises from the view of sin
without the true view of God. It is a fearful truth
that there may be the most bitter and tormenting sense
of guilt without ally real godly repentance for it. The
heart of stone may be crushed and remain stone in its
every fragment; it can only be melted when the love
of God is suffered to shine on it. And if the man has
so depraved his nature that God with all his love has
become a distaste and repulsion to him, and evil with
all its misery less intolerable, what are we to think of
it? It might seem utterly impossible that any being
in God's universe could ever reach such a state if we
had not instances of it, nay, if we had not the proof of
it in our own nature. Whenever any one of us, in the
presence of a sinful object, or after a sin has been committed, strives to put away the thought of God, - when
we do not like to retain Him in our knowledge, — we
are touching the edge of this terrible darkness, and
we may have some idea how men may come at last to
love that darkness rather than the light.
These are subjects very painful, but very needful,
and they are forced upon our consideration in such a
case as this. It is of all things most certain that a
soul living consciously in sin is living without God,
and to be without God is to be without hope. This,
too, is certain, that the longer a man thus lives the
more does absence from God deepen the sense of dis



END OF EVIL ASSOCIATION.        343
like, and the more difficult and improbable will be his
return. The thought of this may not trouble some
very much at present, because they feel as if they can
live without God in a very pleasurable way, and they do
not see why they should ever have a greater necessity
for Him. They can put friendships and occupations
in his room, and contrive to forget Him. But when
these pass, as pass they must, and perish like flowers
on the edge of a gulf, the awful depth of the chasm
will be seen. When fold after fold which now closes
the eye of the soul is torn off, and it is compelled to
look on eternal realities, how will it stand the gaze?
This loss of God must then be felt to be that loss of
the soul of which the Saviour speaks, when he asks,
What shall a man give in exchange for it? And when
He who made the soul, and loved it so much, puts the
issue before us so solemnly, should it not bring us
seriously to question ourselves, and to resolve to give
place to nothing that will cloud our clear view of God,
and never to betray Christ and the homage we owe
Him for the whole world?
II. We come now to the second part of this subject
— THE CHIEF PRIESTS AND THEIR CONDUCT.
In the case of Judas we see sin when it has reached
its close; here we can perceive some of its features
wlhen still in the strength of its course.
The first thing that strikes us on their part is their
disregard for their instrument when their purpose is
gained. Judas had served their end in putting Christ
into their power quietly and securely, so as to avoid
the hazard of public insurrection. And now for the




344          JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS.
traitor himself they nave no further concern. They
could not but see his agony in his face and bearing,
an agony which was haunting him without respite, and
fast making life intolerable.  But for all this they
have no regard. They could relieve his anguish only
by releasing Christ, and this would be to surrender
the object for which they had made use of Judas. If
they had let Christ go free from any such motive, they
would have been different men from what they were.
Even. Judas himself could not complain.  He had
tried to make his use of them as they of him, and
there was no pretence of principle or affection on
either side. They had kept their share of the contract, and he must abide by his. This is the remorseless logic which belongs to these cases, and among
such men it is all-powerful. It raises a feeling of
commiseration for the poor outcast wretch to see him
so repulsed. Had he gone so to Christ he would have
been otherwise received.
That this is the natural end of all these associations
there can be little doubt -of all alliances that are
made for mutual aid in the pursuit of revenge or unhallowed ambition, of unjust gain or sinful pleasure.
Let us admit that there will appear sometimes in the
worst of men a remnant of human feeling which casts
back a fragment of pity to a fallen accomplice, yet it
is given only when it does not interfere with the purpose for which they sought his help. They love that
purpose better than him, and when it is selfish, and
wickedly selfish, we can easily calculate how far their
sympathy will go, how little sacrifice it will make, and
how soon it will weary of that little. We know well




END OF EVIL ASSOCIATION.         345
enough, too, how seldom any glimmerings of commiseration rise in such alliances, and how the contract
is that of the wolves of the forest, which devour their
fallen companions and continue the chase.
" And the chief priests took the silver pieces."  It was
like stripping a dead comrade. They had not the natural feeling to let the wretched hire lie, but they must
lift it for a use of their own. Let this be learned, that
if any friendship is to be formed that will stand us in
stead in time of trial, it need not be sought among bad
men consorting for unprincipled ends. Under the
courtesies which have been established by conventionalism, or among the excitements of social pleasure, this
may be forgotten, but the first stress will lay bare the
hollowness of such friendships, and show what bitter
enemies confront one another when wicked men are
separated by selfish purposes.
The next thing in the conduct of the chief priests is
their attempt to shake off the responsibility of the common
act. Judas confesses in his agony the entire innocence
of his Master. Christ was guiltless of any such design
as they charged him with, - of self-seeking or earthly
ambition, -and they knew it as well as Judas. It
was because He refused to yield to this that He was
both betrayed and condemned. It was because Judas
had given up any hope of worldly gain, through his kingdom, that he had sold Him to them. And now, not only
Christ's guiltlessness of the charge, but his spotless
and loving character, - the good he had received at
his hands, and never evil, - the gentle considerateness,
- the unwearied patience, - the pitying tenderness he
had shown him  and his fellow-disciples. -- rose up




346          JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS.
before the soul of his betrayer, and smote him with
unutterable remorse. No one word, no one act, could
he call up that would help his own thoughts to justify
his treachery. And when the consciousness of his
guilt is crushing him, his associates refuse all share
in it. " What is that to us? "  If Christ is innocent
it is not their concern. The traitor who knew Him so
well should have thought of this when he surrendered
Him. And in this, they touch the very point which
stung Judas to the quick, the one thing which made
his guilt blacker than theirs. He knew Christ better,
and sinned more against the purity and love of his
nature. There is no more deplorable fall than in the
case of those who have been most in Christ's company,
and no sorer blow than when a hard worldling strikes
an apostate Christian professor.
This attempt to shake off responsibility is a very
common feature in all evil associations. There comes
an ultimate and dreadful condition of mind, when, as
in the case of Judas, all refuges of lies are swept away,
when nothing but guilt, guilt without contrition, stares
the man in the face. But there is a state of things on
the way to this, through which Judas, too, may have
passed, - the effort to shake off all share in the guilt,
and to cast it on others. The first compact of evil in
the world manifests it — " the woman that Thou gavest to be with me "-" the serpent beguiled me, and I
did eat." Sometimes it is an attempt to put down an
upbraiding conscience, sometimes to outface an accusing accomplice. But this is certain, that one of the
punishments in concerted sin is mutual recrimination,
and that, the weakest are denied, not only pity, but
ordinary justice.




END OF EVIL ASSOCIATION.         347
The last feature we mention in their conduct is that
they end their sinful compact with a taunt. " What is
that to us? see thou to that."  It is a sneer at his
being too late in coming to the knowledge of Christ's
innocence. This view of the matter should have suggested itself sooner. It is undisguised contempt for
his helplessness. They despised him all along, and now
they can show it. And there is probably an intended
derision of his remorse. There are some men who,
whether from a harder physical nature, or from the
application of mental opiates, can drug their conscience
till the stings of it in others are regarded as signs of
feebleness. They look on the man who suffers from
them as a deserter and a coward. It is difficult to say
whether the meanness of sin is most revealed in Judas
or in them -in his degradation, or their spurning of
him. A generous man can use sarcasm - it is the scorn
felt by a true nature for what is base, but a sneer has
always a vein of the ignoble in it, and a sneer at a fallen
accomplice belongs to natures of the lowest grade.
Some find it hard to face the serpent's hiss of hatred,
but here is something worse to endure -its hiss of
scorn. Better by infinite meet the ridicule of sinners
for not joining them while we have a good conscience,
than end by being subjected to their taunts when we
feel they are deserved.
Yet before leaving these men, let us be sure of this,
that though they might disown responsibility they could
not destroy it. A man may stop his chronometer in
the night, but he cannot arrest the sunrise. The time
shall come when they too must see to it, and the innocent
blood find another voice than in the remorse of Judas.




348          JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS.
The two sides of sinful companionship we have been
contemplating show us two stages in sin, the one its
full career, the other its close. As long as men are in
the pursuit of an object, they may be able, with the aid
of passion, to stifle conscience, but when the object is
reached, and the value deliberately counted, -the
thirty pieces of silver for which a Saviour has been
sold, - conscience can begin to strike the I balance.
The heat and halo of the chase are over, and the net
result can be reckoned, at least on one side; the miserable gain, if not the infinite loss. So it is with the
betrayer, and so it must be, by and by, with those who
hired him. They may meanwhile outbrave Judas, but
they have to meet God. And, let us think of it,- the
poisoned arrow a man uses may wound himself. The
sneer is always on the way to the remorse. They have
both the same hard bitterness in them -the same
want of God's love. Nay more, as their taunts now
pierce him he may turn round and reach them. Mutual
reproach is one of the miseries of confederate sin when
it closes. On one side the burden of sin has a dreadful
solitude about it. "Every man must bear his own
burden" — " See thou to that." And yet, on the other
side, there is a fearful companionship, for one sinner
takes up this taunt against another. May not this be
the meaning of that solemn sentence- "' Gather ye the
tares, and bind them in bundles to burn them "?
In what we have said, we have been looking chiefly
at the end of sin and sinful association in this world.
If we had no other view of it, there is enough to fill us
with fear and awe, -that sin cherished in the soul
should so ruin human nature and leave it a wreck of




END OF EVIL ASSOCIATION.         349
guilt and agony. While the other disciples stumbled
to rise, because truth and love to the Son of God were
in their hearts, and while they grew up to that self-sacrifice and nobility of soul which make their names
mingle in our thoughts with that Name which is above
every name, the traitor's has gone out and down among
men, as a thing of loathing and horror, and is the perpetual warning of the awful catastrophe to which sin,
cherished in the soul, at last may lead. There is surely
no prayer which better befits us in such a review
than the Psalmist's: " Who can understand his errors?
cleanse thou me from secret faults. Keep back thy
servant also from presumptuous sins; let them not
have dominion over me: then shall I be upright, and
I shall be innocent from the great transgression."
It is scarcely possible, when we have such a case
before us, to avoid thinking also of the future world.
This matter is no subject for passion or threat, but for
serious thought each one with himself. The New Testament has an expression concerning Judas (Acts i.
25), which is as practical as profoundly solemn, - " He
went to his own place." In the eternal world every
man has his place, and it is his own. No other can
make it, and no other can occupy it, for him. Whatever
may be in it outwardly, its essence lies in his own soul
and in the condition to which he has brought it. Here,
in the last issue consists his misery or joy, for only
through his soul can his share be measured in the universe of God and in God himself.
And God has made the man's own soul witness and
judge over itself. This difference only shall exist
between the present and the future, that then, - con



350          JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS.
fronted with the eternal laws of truth and justice, —
the witness shall have no power of false testimony, and
the judge be unable to use favor or sophistry. We
may say, that, by thus lodging the decision in every
man's conscience, God has put it out of his own power
to act with partiality, and put it out of our power to
charge Him with it. If the conscience could truly
charge the Supreme Lawgiver with injustice, it may be
affirmed with all reverence, that this would sustain it
against the wrong. Men shall take their own place in
the spiritual universe as bodies take their place iii the
natural, - by the power of gravitation which is in them
- nearer God or further from Him, as they have
impressed the character upon themselves, and in nearness will lie life and peace, —in distance, death and
misery.
It may be a congratulation with some that such cases
as that of Judas are exceptional, and that, without
having decidedly chosen for God, they have nothing of
the blackness of the betrayer nor the malignity of his
accomplices. Let this be meanwhile granted, and let
it be admitted that in the future world there must be
infinite gradations on either side. To deny this, and
to make only two unrelieved colors, would be untruthful to God's justice and to the plainest lessons of the
Bible. But let any one ask himself if he could think it
well to remain on the same side with Judas, only not
so deep in degradation? If it were possible, could he
be contented with some border-land between God and
sin? The history of the Cross of Christ, which is so
wonderful a touchstone of human nature, shows us, in
the person of Pilate, one who attempted it. If any man




END OF EVIL ASSOCIATION.         351
could have escaped taking a part between Christ and
his enemies, it might have been Pontius Pilate. He
was a heathen, who might excuse himself from Jewish
questions, and he was reared among the conflicting
scepticisms of his day in such a way, that his question
" What is truth? " appeared hopeless of an answer.
But with all his struggles he was forced to take a side.
He might wash his hands before the multitude and say
" See ye to it," but the stain of Christ's blood is on
them yet, and he stands a miserable example of that
weak and fancied neutrality which can never be sustained. If God had no claims, and sin were not already
master of our nature, neutrality might be spoken of,
but he who chooses it as things are, elects to remain a
rebel. If the Son of God had not entered the world
with his summons to return to allegiance, the case
might have been, at least, more doubtful, but now we
must either be among those who gather to the side of
Divine Truth when it rises on the cross into the form
of Love, or take our part with the chief priests and
Judases who buy and sell Him, and the Pilates, who
think they can stand by and harmlessly hold the
scales.
What a deep ground of thankfulness should it be to
all of us, that the standard which calls us to take a
side, holds out a free and full pardon to the worst of
rebels, - to the betrayers of the Son of God, and to his
murderers, if they will but turn to Him! The death
of Christ, which is such a revelation of human character, is a revelation still more of God's mercy. The
death rises into a sacrifice, the crime discloses an
atonement, and if those who joined in the treason




352          JUDAS AND THE PRIESTS.
would have but looked on Him whom they pierced, all
would have been forgiven, and the abundance of sin
swallowed up in the abundance of grace.
From whatever is doubtful and mysterious, let us
turn to this- the light which shines in darkness. Let
us be afraid not so much of the punishment of sin as
of sill itself, feeling that it bears its sting in its own
bosom, and that, if there be in any child of man the
desire to be freed from it, he is welcomed by the full
heart of God drawing near to us in that Redeemer who
is able to save to the uttermost all those that come
unto God through Him.




XX.
4hris'5  $ttiignc~ in  i$achin~  iruth.
"I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear
them now." -JOHN XVi. I2.
j UR Lord Jesus Christ had been engaged for
years in instructing his disciples. There never
was so constant and skilful a teacher, using
every opportunity and every incident. The record of
his lessons preserved to us in the four Gospels is a
very small part of what He spoke, and yet what a store
of truth, new to the world, and divine and everlasting
in its reach, is contained in it! What a light is cast
upon human duty, in its breadth and depth, in the
sermon on the mount, how varied the relations of man's
life to his fellow-man and to God as presented in his
parables, and what revelations of the love of the Father,
and all he intends here and hereafter by the gift of his
Son, in this same discourse!
But after all these revelations, and when now at the
close of his ministry, much remains untold. One feels
as if there were an expression of regret from the heart
of the Great Teacher that He cannot unbosom Himself
further. He has so many things to communicate, but
23




354   CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.
his lips are sealed. It is not so much time that is
wanting to Him, though that too presses, as fitness on
the part of his scholars. The Teacher is all-wise, but
the learners are weak and full of prejudice. The
Teacher is so wise that He will not give them more
than they can well receive.
This is a view of the wisdom of our Lord Jesus
Christ which we do not so frequently consider. We
dwell much upon what He openly reveals, but we do not
reflect as we ought to do on all that was in his thought,
and which He kept back out of consideration for us, or
rather, we should say, left room for, and indicated in
such a way as to convince us He intended us to know
it one day. It is this view of Christ's character which
is here presented to us, — Christ's reticence in teaching
truth; and we shall first give some illustrations of it,
and next some conclusions in regard to Christ and
human nature to which it may help us.
I. SOME ILLUSTRATIONS OF THIS FEATURE OF CHRIST'S
TEACHING.
1. We shall take some of the truths to which we
may suppose our Lord made immediate reference. One
of these was the long separation which was about to
take place between Him and his disciples. They were
on the verge of parting from Him, never more to meet
till their death should bring them to his presence in
another world.  This would have been a terrible,
an almost intolerable prospect, to them, with the sense
they then had of entire dependence on his outward
presence. They could not conceive of such a farewell,
and when He hinted at separation they thought of it




CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.   355
as spoken of in figure, or as to last for a brief time.
There was but one thing that could enable them to
bear the prospect of his long absence, - the descent of
the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, and the felt presence
of Christ with them in their hearts. Till then it is
not made clear to them.
Another thing that He did not reveal to them
plainly was the fall of the Mosaic dispensation, accompanied with the destruction of the Jewish State, and
scattering of the nation over the world for so many
centuries. This was the breaking up of all that they
clung to as patriots and Jewish believers. The whole
foundation of their faith would be convulsed by the
thought of it. It was only the unfolding of Christianity in its spiritual power, the fulfilment of types and
sacrifices in more glorious realities, the transference
of their affections to a higher fatherland, and the view
of the heavenly beauty of the Jerusalem above, that
could enable them to bear the loss of their gorgeous
ritual, and the dispersion of their race.
Another thing of the future not fully revealed was,
the admission of men of all nations upon equal terms
to the privileges of the children of God. It was only
the spirit of universal charity, - the perception of
Christ's relationship to man as man, the burning love
to human souls kindled at the great sacrifice of the
cross, that could lead them to count nothing that God
has cleansed common or unclean, and to cast wide the
gospel-door to every sinner of mankind.
We may mention, further, the gradual way in which
He made the true view of his own person dawn on
them. Had they known, as they came afterwards to




356   CHRIST9S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.
know, the full truth of his Divinity, they could not
have borne it. To walk, side by side, consciously with
the Son of God, in all their human sin and frailty,
to exchange common converse, to reason and remonstrate with Him, would have been impossible. It
needed that they should look back on it, that they
should have the tenderness and condescension of his
character, as well as its purity and grandeur, brought
out by the Spirit taking of the things that were Christ's
and showing them unto them, before they could realize
that God incarnate had entered our world and linked
human nature in the closest ties to Himself. So
great a truth could not have flashed on the eye at
once without overpowering it.
All these things of which we have spoken are rooted
and imbedded in the Gospels; we can see them there
in our Lord's words and actions from the beginning;
it was from these very words and actions that his disciples came to learn them under his Spirit's teaching,
but they are presented in such a way as to meet the
state of their minds at every stage. The Gospels and
Epistles are not'opposite views of Christ and Christianity, - they are not even different, - but two steps
of one development, the course of which can be seen
passing on through the Gospels themselves.  The
principle on which Christ conducts it is, that the full
greatness of a truth is not unveiled until the spiritual
eye has been strengthened, and a hope is not shattered
until its true compensation has been provided. It is
because He is the same Educator who in nature lets
the blossoms fall only when the fruit forms, and
suffers the leaves of last autumn to remain on trees
whose young bllds need suchl shelter.




CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.   357
2. To illustrate further this feature of Christ's
teaching, we may consider the manner of his revelation
of truth to the world in general. His methods are of a
kind peculiarly fitted to reveal truth as men are able to
bear it. The parable is his favorite method inll speech,
and the miracle in action, which, as He performs it, is
a parable put into a living shape. In both of these a
man sees little or much, according to the spirit he
brings, and what he sees is always growing into
something deeper and higher, as he ponders it. Our
Lord desired that truth should not be thrust upon a
man from without, but grow up within, as from a seed,
night and day, he knows not how. ",Seeing, he sees
and does not perceive; hearing, he hears and does not
understand;" but, if he will only be patient and
thoughtful, a new world grows up in him as plants and
leaves grow in spring. It is this manner of Christ's
teaching, by parable and miracle, which makes it
suited to all the years of human life, as it is suited to
every age of the world. The youngest child can understand something of it, and the most mature Christian feels that he has not reached the end of it. There
is no other method of instruction we can think of that
would have gained this result.
Then if we go back to the Old Testament, we shall
find that the teaching was conducted in the same way.
The symbols and the sacrifices were divine parables,
where the learners had to take part with their hands,
and were made their own instructors. Their daily acts
were impressing upon them the great lessons of sin,
atonement, and purity, and, step by step, they saw a
deeper meaning as their minds were ready for it.




358   CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.
There is nothing more beautiful than to trace how
their views of these three things, guilt, pardon, and
holiness, kept equal pace, growing in clearness till
Christ came and satisfied all their longings when they
were prepared for Him. It is He Himself who is the
great Teacher, — the Prophet as well as the Priest
of the one unbroken Church, - and his plan is the
same as in his earthly life, revealing truth as men are
able to bear it.
When we come down to the ages that have followed
his appearance upon earth, there is the same gradual
unfolding of the principles of his kingdom. It is true
that they are all to be found in the divine record. The
more closely we study it, the more shall we be surprised to see the clearness with which they come out.
But it is not at once that men are brought to discern
them. The great Reformers of the Christian Church
were led on to their final views by slow degrees. The
beginning of a chain was put into their hands, and
they had to grope it out, link by link, under the compulsion of Providence and the constraint of conscience.
They were made to see each new truth when they were
prepared for it, and they were kept in harmony with
those whom they had to lead. It seems at first sight
to be consummate calculation on their part that they
never hastened too far before their followers; but the
wisdom is in the Spirit and Providence of Christ, the
teacher of the Church. If Luther had seen the whole
course that lay before him when he opened the Epistle
to the Romans, and learnt the great truth of justifica —
tion by faith alone, he might have shrunk back in fear.
But darkness was made light before him as he ad



CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.   359
vanced, till a new dawn rose upon the Christian world.
And all those who have been honored to do much for
the cause of God and man ever since have been led
in the same way. When churches and nations are
brought out of Egypt, they do not see the long years
and wanderings that are before them ere they arrive at
their inheritance of freedom and peace. The wells of
Marah and waters of Meribah would terrify them; and
yet these have all their lessons of faith and fortitude,
which qualify God's people for conquering the land of
their birthright. From the time Christ took men in
hand to instruct them, He has been acting on this
principle, " I have many things to say unto you, but
ye cannot bear them now."
3. There is another illustration of this manner of
Christ's teaching- in the individual life. Take, for
example, the way in which the view of human life
alters as men advance in years. Were the young to
discover how unsatisfactory the present world is at the
core,- how little of real happiness, as they expect it,
it can bring -what blanks and what bitters there are
in its most promised sweetness, - they could not bear
it: -
" If nature put not forth her power,
About the opening of the flower,
Who is it that could live an hour?"
The young need this bright view of the world to
develop their energies, - to nurse their affections and
imagination, - that when the veterans droop they may
come in, like a fresh reinforcement, into the failing
battle of life. And this brightness is also true, though
in a different sense from their vision of it. It comes




360   CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.
from a source above and beyond their present horizon.
The illusion is not a delusion. " The glory and the
dream " are really there in a true life with God, though
the youthful view takes in no more than the broken
shimmer of it on the sea over Which they sail. For
to this indeed it comes, that the early vision of life is
never realized. The golden islands which lay in the
sunrise pass into clouds, and the gorgeous sparkle into
a stern reality of struggle and storm. But ere this
arrives, God has given opportunity for building up a
firmer character on the principles of duty, and on the
far-seeing vision of another world, which will not disappoint the hope. It is well if the man has learned
this. The world's dream can take its own flight, and
he can bear it.
There is a similar experience in the Christian life.
Those who enter on it have the confident feeling which
would gain triumphs without thinking of trials - the
spirit of Peter, that hopes to have the heavenly vision
without the hard work, —" Master, it is good for us
to be here,"- or the fancied strength which prompted
his boast, "Lord, I will follow Thee whithersoever
Thou goest." They have the " love of their youth, the
zeal of their espousals," and they cannot conceive that
it should ever be otherwise. But then comes " the
check and change," chillness of feeling, temptation,
the bitter cross, and long prospects of march and battle
before the close. Ere this, however, they have learned
to add to their faith virtue and temperance and
patience, - to put on the whole armor of God, and
having done all to stand.
The afflictive events of God's providence are meas



CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.   361
ured in the same way. The days of darkness come,
and they are many, but our eye takes in only the first.
One wave hides another, and the effort to encounter
the foremost withdraws our thought from evils which
are pressing on. If we could see them all at once we
might lie down, like Elijah, under the juniper-tree,
and say, "It is enough — let me not live!"  But
patience attains her perfect work while trials unfold.
As the eye learns to see in darkness, the mind, by a
merciful arrangement, grows accustomed to look
calmly on the deepest afflictions, and to appreciate
angel-like consolations in them, which came as to the
prophet in the desert, that in the strength of them we
may travel on many days to the Mount of God.
The great doctrines of the gospel are.pesented to
the mind in a like manner. There are many who cannot bear at first the full view of the sovereignty of
God, -of One who does all things according to the
counsel of his own will, — and they draw back with
something like shrinking from it, and dwell only on
the perfect grace and absolute freeness of the way of
life. But grace and unconditioned freeness go forward,
and with joined hands embrace at last the lofty doctrine of God's sovereignty, while they say, " Not unto
us, but unto Thy name give glory, for Tlhy mercy and
for Thy truth's sake! " The man has now learned humility and self-renunciation, unreserved trust in the
good and perfect will of God, and he can bear it. In
Christ's personal teaching, - in the revelation of truth
to the world, - and in the guidance of our individual
life, - we may thus trace the same principle of unfolding his lessons as men are fitted to bear them.




362   CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.
II. We come now to SOME OF THE CONCLUSIONS
TAUGHT US REGARDING CHRIST AND HUMAN NATURE.
In regard to Christ, we have reason to admire his
control alike over Himself and his message. He is so
absorbed by it that He can say, " The zeal of Thine
house hath devoured me," and yet He is not possessed
by it like a frenzied instrument. There is calmness
with all his depth, - may we not say, calmness because
of his depth? A little knowledge makes men eager
to tell all they have. We read of God that it is " his
glory to conceal a thing," and spread his cloud upon
it. He can "hold back the face of his throne," and
Christ has this same token of divinity in the way He
discloses truth. He is neither its slave nor its organ,
but its Owner and Lord. It was the saying of a philosopher, " If I had all truth in my hand, I would let
forth only a ray at a time, lest I should blind the
world."
With this self-control there is united Christ's tenderness in teaching. The rays of the Sun of Righteousness do not injure the most delicate tissue of the eye
on which they fall. It needs the most loving heart to
have such pity on ignorance as to feel that premature knowledge may hurt it, and to refrain from acting the tyrant in the possession of superior intellect," to have a giant's strength, but not to use it like a
giant."
This is the great problem which revelation solves
when it brings the infinite mind of God into contact
with our finite minds, without overwhelming them.
The secret of it is its wonderful humanness, coming
to us where we are, and as we are, while it never lays




CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.   363
aside its own truth and purity; and its central power
is found in Christ. He had it not only from the Divine
nature which He possessed, but because He was truly
and intensely human. He had learned sympathy with
finite minds from passing through the school of experience. ", He grew in wisdom." " Though He were
a Son, yet learned He obedience by the things which
He suffered." There is a meaning in such words beyond what we commonly give them. There was a
dawning of knowledge in the human nature of Christ,
gradual as in us, and a progress of it through pain and
struggle. And this gives not only skill, but tenderness, to all the dealings of the Heavenly Master with
his slow and weak scholars. He has his full summertide of glorious revelations for the dwellers in a higher
world,- -for those who can look with undazzled eye
on the brightness of his noontide, —but for us who
are emerging from the winter darkness of this earth,
He has the gentler radiance of his spring-time, and the
alternations of his sunshine and his shadow. He does
not let out his full flood of light to scorch the young
plant with unmitigated splendor; but interposes his
clouds for a covering and refreshment. There are in
the teaching of Christ, both in the Bible and in Providence, reticences and pauses which temper the truth
to feeble minds, as clouds chasten light. If we so read
them, they are not mere blanks, but tokens, of a true
and real tenderness. ", His doctrine will yet drop from
them as the rain, his speech distil as the dew."  "He
will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax, till He bring forth judgment unto truth."
We may see in this method of teaching, not less, the




364   CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.
wisdom of Christ. Wisdom is displayed not so much
in doing the right thing, as in doing it at the right
time. The right thing, properly speaking, springs not
from wisdom at all, but from an inherent principle of
justice. The time for doing it is the great distinction
between wisdom and folly. It may be said that as
space is the sphere in which Divine power is displayed,
time is the sphere for displaying Divine wisdom. And
as power demands vast depths of space, - immense
fields where suns and stars may be spread out in their
mighty masses and movements, - so wisdom demands
lengthened eras of time to unfold its plans in all their
gradual developments and wonderful combinations.
Over all these developments the mind of Christ presides. He is the God of history, and his wisdom is
especially seen in the way in which the truths of his
Word open out with a light suited to the requirements
of every period. We do not speak here of prophecies
which meet their fulfilment, but of principles which
spring forth to guide men, as the star came kindling
out of the sky to point the way to those whose hearts
were feeling after the world's Redeemer.
No crisis has ever yet appeared when Christ's Word
was not ready to take the van of human movement.
The truths in their particular application may have
lain unmarked, - or revealed themselves only to a few
sentinels watching for the dawn, - till some great turn
in the life of humanity comes, and then the principles
of freedom and right and universal charity shine out
so clear and undoubted, that men wonder at their past
blindness. They were there centred in the life and
death of the Son of God, and his wisdom is seen both




CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.   365
in having deposited them ages ago, and in bringing
them out to view at the fitting season. When so it is,
we need not fear any want of harmony between the
Word of Christ and the progress of science. It is a
subject that troubles not a few, but, if they would only
wait in calmness, the wisdom of Christ will appear in
this also, and God's revelation will be seen to step
across the burning shares in its path, without the seeming consciousness of an ordeal. It was never Christ's
intention to reveal scientific truth in his Word; but
He has left ample verge and scope for it. The indentations of the two revolving wheels will be found to fit,
whenever they really come into contact; and the only
thing broken will be the premature human harmonizings which are thrust in between them.
Last of all, in regard to Christ, we may learn His
patience as a Teacher. He is not in restless commotion to have his work done on the instant; nor does
He abandon it in discontent when men prove inapt
and slow. He has often to say in sorrow, more than
in anger, " How is it that ye do not understand? " but
He patiently begins his labor again, and is long-suffering
to our ignorance, as to our sins. Short-lived men must
speak out all their mind before they die, but the centuries belong to Christ, and He can calmly wait. He
knows that he has time to teach what He intends. He
knows also the final and triumphant issue, and without haste, and without rest, He is advancing towards
it. " He shall not fail nor be discouraged till He have
set judgment in the earth: and the isles shall wait for
his law." Our impatience often rises in the mean
while, and the question with it, "Wherefore this




366   CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.
waste? " We wonder with a pain, which grows sometimes to tormenting doubt, why weary ages roll on,
and darkness reigns, and souls pass away into the eternal future without comfort and hope of the truth. It
is a right feeling, in as far as it urges us to pray and
labor with all our energy for the enlightenment of poor
darkened spirits, and for the diffusion of God's saving
gospel; but, beyond this, we must be calm at heart, as
believing that the issues are ordered by an infinite
mind and sovereign will, and that Christ will prove
that the delay on the road in no degree detracts from
the wisdom and kindness which shall shine forth in
the end.
The subject we have been considering may teach us
some conclusions also concerning our common human
nature.
We may surely learn to take large and tolerant views
of it. When we see how slowly the best of men have
apprehended the clearest of all truths, we must not
be provoked at what we call the stupidity and prejudice of our contemporaries; nor fret unreasonably
because antiquated opinions, as they seem to us, obstinately hold their ground. If the great Teacher had
to wait, we may be content to do so. There are errors
which give way only when God takes them into his
own hand by the events of his Providence. They do
not yield to reasoning, but to a change in the point of
view which reveals an entire side of things previously
hidden. It is marvellous how a turn in the road opens
whole landscapes of truth to men, and lets them see
what no logic could convince them of. Such changes
make us say with the ancient patriarch, " Behold God




CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.   367
exalteth his power; who teacheth like him? " And
yet reasoning has its value, as it prepares for them, and
we must not weary in the use of it in all charity and
candor. It may be slowly sowing the seed which God
will quicken in a day.
Next, we may cherish very hopeful views of human
nature. There are many grounds for this, but here is
one,- that there must be noble things in store for
that race with which the Son of God is contented to
have such patience. If the great Husbandman waits
so long for the feeble, springing blade, how precious
must the full harvest be!  There will be plentiful
stores of pure wisdom for the world, and boundless
treasures for each immortal soul that covets truth.
There are ages for the world to learn in, and an eternity for the individual; and when the soul is able to
bear full light, how many things will the great Teacher
have to disclose!  What secrets in providence and
grace shall be uncovered - what blank deserts on the
map of knowledge filled up with rich discoveries —
what pauses and silences in the speech of Christ, replaced by matter of adoring wonder and praise! We
shall find out why we can get no answer to many questions now. Where we are compelled to stand in awe
before mysteries which stretch away like trackless
wastes, we shall advance and see proofs of larger wisdom and deeper love than it entered our hearts to
conceive.  " Then the eyes of the blind shall be
opened, and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped,
and the tongue of the dumb shall sing, for in the wilderness shall waters break out, and streams in the
desert."




368   CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.
It is a token of the immortality of the soul, that
God has implanted in man a boundless desire of knowledge, and given him so limited a time to satisfy it,and it is ground for expecting all the treasures of
wisdom and knowledge from Jesus Christ, that He
came into this world, possessed of them, and yet kept
silence on so much we long to know. When our inability to receive is removed, - when we can take no harm
from premature lessons, - we shall not have to complain of his silence. "In that day we shall ask Him
nothing." We shall drink at the fountain-head of
illumination, see light in God's light, and find it all
the sweeter that it comes from Him into whose lips
grace is poured. "The Lamb in the midst of the
throne shall feed them, and lead them to living fountains of waters; " and the increase of knowledge shall
not be increase of sorrow- " God shall wipe away all
tears from their eyes."
In regard to the things which Christ does not tell
us, let us be thankful to Him for his silence. The
cloud that veils full knowledge " is a cloud of love."
Many things about our great future, and almost every
thing about our earthly future, are concealed from us.
If we look back with a thoughtful heart, we cannot but
feel how wisely and kindly He has unrolled the volume
of life, and stood by us and strengthened us when we
had hard things to read in it. Events that would have
seemed intolerable have happened, and lie behind us
with a softened light shed over them. We may be
grateful that they were not foretold, - and grateful
still more if we have been carried through them, not
by having our heartA made hard, but our souls




CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.   369
made strong. It may help us to be less distrustful
about what things lie still before us. When we can
bear them, He will let us know them, - or, when He
lets us know them, He will enable us to bear them.
Finally, let us be chiefly concerned about knowing
the one great thing which Christ has to say to us.
There is a message which stands out in his Word distinct from the beginning to the close: "This is life
eternal, that they might know Thee, the only true
God, and Jesus Christ, whom Thou hast sent." Whatever disputes men may raise about it, the way is very
plain and very near to any man who will open the
Book and read with a willing mind. The wayfaring
men, though fools, shall not err therein. The repose
of the heart on God as made known in Christ, is all
that is required, and the surrender of the life will follow. This is the one only thing that can extract from
the life all other things hard to be borne. The hardest parts of life, - the most bitter things in it, - are
written by our own hands, - the upbraidings of conscience, the stings of memory, the reproach of wasted
opportunities, and the falsity and folly which make our
life often seem so mean to ourselves. We cannot bear
these things now, and how shall we when a clearer
light of truth is poured on them? But Christ has
words for them where all reticence is cast away,words of full pardon for the past, and a strength for the
future that will help us to a real and noble life. "As
God is true, his word toward you is not yea and nay.
For all the promises of God in Him are yea, and in
Him amen, unto the glory of God."
There are times in the future for learning other
24




370   CHRIST'S RETICENCE IN TEACHING TRUTH.
truths, but for this our time is always ready. It is a
word which is ever nigh us, and ever needed. It is
that Gospel which makes Christ the salvation and
desire of every soul that has learned to know itself
and Him, and that brings it to say, " How sweet are
thy words unto my taste! yea sweeter than honey to
my mouth! Through thy precepts I get understanding, therefore I hate every false way." When this
view of God is gained, all other things will come in
due time and in wise order, and all " his words shall
stand fast to you for ever and ever and be done in truth
and uprightness! "
~p1
(~i) P"




XXI.
Je Tuast  aisouer.        Irist's  esirn  or if.
(BEFORE COMMUNION.)
"And He said unto them, With desire I have desired to eat this
passover with you before I stifer." - LUKE XXii. I5.
HESE words were spoken on a remarkable
occasion - on the night before our Lord and
Saviour suffered on the cross. It was on this
night that the Passover feast was kept by the Jewish
nation, to celebrate the most wonderful event in their
history, - what may be called both the commencement
and the key-stone of it, —the deliverance from the
land of Egypt.
Our Saviour had often joined in the Passover before,
but never had He looked forward to it with such
feeling as now. " With desire have I desired to eat
this passover with you," -with intense and ardent
desire - and He gives the reason, " before I suffer."
" Before I suffer!"  They seem strange words from
such lips,- from Him who had already earned his
title to be " the man of sorrows," - who had passed
through privation and reproach and grief, and who




372            THE LAST PASSOVER.
seems to count all these as nothing to that which lay
before Him. It is because He is standing on the verge
of Gethsemane, and beneath the shadow of his cross,
and such words, " before I suffer," tell us that there
was an agony of endurance in view which was to cast
into the shade all that lay behind Him. It is this suffering that makes the death of Christ the centre of
Gospel truth, and that brings us together here to remember Him who was wounded for our transgressions,
and bruised for our iniquities.
" This passover before I suffer!"  It tells us, surely,
that there was some connection between the Passover
and the suffering of Christ, and a special connection in
this Passover at which He and his disciples were now
sitting down. It may be suitable for us, when seated
at the Lord's table, to think of some of the reasons
why the Saviour desired so earnestly to join in this
last Passover before He suffered.
I. One reason was, that the Passover had now
reached its end, and found its full meaning.
That the Passover was a real emblem of Christ and
his redemption, no one of us can doubt. It is no
more unreasonable to expect typical forms in history
than in nature; above all, in that Divine history which
the hand of God specially constructed to be a spring
of blessing to the family of man.  The roots of a tree,
with all its fibres and feelers, repeat themselves in the
air in shoots and branches, till they are crowned with
blossom and fruit. The lower life of the creation has
a dim resemblance to the higher life in man, toward
which it is struggling, - for God forms his world on
one great plan, and makes the first prophetic of the




CHRIST'S DESIRE FOR IT.        373
last. Even so all the spiritual history of the Old Testament is advancing to the second and greater Man,
the Lord from heaven. It casts itself into foreshadowing shapes and types of Him, because his hand is on it,
and his life is in it. It is struggling toward Him,
taught and led by his Spirit, and it cannot but resemble Him. He is its root and its offspring.
Among all these types the Passover holds the foremost place, -floating down through the old dispensation to tell of its greatest deliverance, — as this communion has come down to us to tell of the great redemption of the New. It was now about to resign its
charge, for it had served its purpose. It had stirred,
year by year, the ashes of memory in the Jewish heart,
and kindled them up into the flame of hope, -had
taught men to look for a greater prophet than Moses,
and to long for a higher salvation than the freedom
from Egypt. And now, with this last Passover, it has
come. It has come, with many of its forms like that
first deliverance, but with a spiritual depth and grandeur in it beyond what the best of those ancient saints
could ask or think.
There is thraldom more miserable than that of
Egypt, and yielding as little recompense to those who
toil' under it. There is a tyrant stronger and more
inveterate to keep his hold. The iron has entered
deeper into the soul; for the slave is in love with his
chains even when they gall and fret him. Herein lies
the deepest misery of the bondage, that it is self-maintained, - and herein it entails not only misery, but
guilt. The slave is also a rebel, and the work of sin
has for its wages death. It is the condition of man,



374             THE LAST PASSOVER.
Of all of us, —by nature, whether conscious of it or
not, whether clasping our misery, as the maniac his
fetters, or wakened to cry, " O wretched man that I
am! who shall deliver me from the body of this
death? "
But here, too, is our deliverer. " If the Son shall
make you free, ye shall be free indeed." The Captain
of our salvation has appeared with the words, " The
Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the LORD
hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek;
HIe hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the
prison to them that are bound." He offers a free pardon to the rebels, and full freedom to the slaves. " Ye
have sold yourselves for nought; and ye shall be
redeemed without money."
"Ye who have sold for nought
The heritage above,
Receive it back unbought
The gift of Jesus' love."
The heritage begins now in the deliverance of the
conscience from guilt, and of the soul from the love of
sin, - and ends in being " delivered from the bondage
of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children
of God," in a heavenly country, of which the earthly
Canaan was the dim and distant figure. The ancient
covenant, which changed the slaves of Egypt into God's
servants, gives place to the new, which changes his
servants into his sons, and commences that golden
chain, " If children, then heirs: heirs of God and joint
heirs with Christ; if so be that we suffer with Him, that
we may be also glorified together."




CHRIST'S DESIRE FOR IT.         375
And here, too, are the means of the redemption.
The Passover, which sprinkled with the blood of the
covenant the door-posts in the land of Egypt, descends
until its last victim dies beneath the shadow of the
cross of Christ. Its efficacy is gone, for He has ap
peared who is to finish transgression, to make an end
of sin, and to bring in an everlasting righteousness.
At best it was a shadow, but now the great reality has
come, - " Christ our passover, sacrificed for us." It
is no unconscious victim, but one who freely gives
Himself, the just for the unjust, that He may bring us
to God. It is no corruptible thing that is the ransom
price, but the precious blood of Christ, as of a lamb
without blemish and without spot. In this was seen
the height of Divine love and the depth of human sin
and loss, that the highest in the universe devoted Himself for the lowest, and died the death for them, which
was the ransom of the soul. He who made the world
came into the world to save it, and bore for it the burden of shame and guilt. It is the love of Christ, and
it passeth knowledge.
And now He advances to close the old and open the
new, to disperse all the shadows with the one light, and
fulfil all the promises with the one blessing- even
Himself -" for of Him are ye in Christ Jesus, who of
God is made unto us wisdom, and righteousness, and
sanctification, and redemption." The foreshadowed
sufferings of that ancient covenant all meet in his cross,
and its promised blessings all flow from it. He is the
victim and the offerer, the passover and the Moses; He
endures and does, suffers and saves. He passed through
a deeper than Egypt's darkness, - was baptized with the




376            THE LAST PASSOVER.
baptism of blood, — was the slain lamb, and stricken
first-born for our sins. He led his chosen to the sea which
barred the way, and stretched over it his delivering
cross, and it opened, and a way was made through the
deep for the ransomed of the Lord to pass over. He is
the heavenly manna - the water and the smitten rock,
- the pillar of defence and light, - the ark of the covenant that dries up Jordan's stream, - the tree of life
that scatters its healing leaves and sheds its fruit
through all the goodly land. The Divine history of
the past now completes its cycle, and this last Passover begins to speak the word of the cross, - " It is finished."  The cloud of the L.ORD has found the true
tabernacle,- the star rests over the home of redemption, -and all the sacrifices take up the message of the
forerunner, " Behold the Lamb of God! "
And when at last the fountain of grace hidden in
the law is about to break forth into the broad rivers
and streams of the gospel, should not He, from whose
death the water of life is to flow, be present and be
moved at the token of this great time? His footsteps
re-echo through all the paths of the ancient church as
He advances " to repair the long desolations;" and His
voice is heard, -" Lo I come; in the volume of the
book it is written of me, I delight to do thy will, 0 my
God." Through his earthly life He had looked forward
with ardor, mixed with fear, to the conflict of the cross,
as a warrior to the victory, which can be reached only
through battle, and garments rolled in blood, —"I
have a baptism to be baptized with, and how am I straitened till it be accomplished?" — and now that He
stands on the verge of it and grasps the sign of his




CHRIST'S DESIRE FOR IT.        377
death and his triumph, should He not pour out his
heart in such longing words, "With desire have I
desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer "?
2. Another reason why Christ desired to be present
at this Passover was, for the support of his own soul in
the approaching struggle.
" Before I suffer!" He had a terrible conflict to
meet, for which He longed, and at which He trembled.
There is something wonderful in the way in which the
Gospels let us look into the soul of Christ, into its
very faintings and misgivings, — as He reasons with
Himself, -" Now is my soul troubled, and what shall
I say? Father, save me from this hour? but for this
cause came I unto this hour."
It is that we may feel how human He is in the weakness of humanity, and how real the suffering was which
He had to endure. We are ready to think of Christ as
if, by his Divine nature, He stood above all the sense
of human infirmity. But He felt it as we feel it, and fell
back on the same sources of support. His hunger, and
thirst, and weariness, and sweat of blood, were no mere
semblance, -nor any more were his fears and heartsinkings, his wounded spirit and terrible sense of abandonment. His tears were real, and his look on Peter,
which came from the heart and went to it, and his cry,
-" If it be possible, let this cup passfrom me, 0 my
Father! " We might doubt the true Divinity of Christ
as soon as his real humanity, for He must touch both,
and touch them entirely, if He is to bring them together.
And as his hunger was relieved by bread, and his
thirst by water, so was his soul by God's appointed
means. The utterances of Scripture which had com



378            THE LAST PASSOVER.
forted hearts before Him,- the supplies of God's table,
- and the aids of prayer, were also his means of
refreshment. It is an everlasting consolation to think
of this. The seats which the Lord of the way has
made for poor pilgrims to rest upon, and the stores
treasured up for weary hearts, have been tried and
tested by the Lord himself, and He knows by experience how to guide their feet to each fitting place, —
"He can have compassion on the ignorant, and on
them that are out of the way, for that He himself also
was compassed with infirmity."
But there is still more in his longing wish to eat of
this Passover. It is not merely to think through it of
all that God has done, and hold communion with the
Father of spirits; but to do all this in fellowship with
human hearts,- -" to eat this passover with you before
I suffer."  We may feel startled at the thought that
the Son of God should be dependent on such aid at
such a moment. And yet it is in keeping with all his
history — with the whole plan of redemption. The
Divine and human are inseparably interwoven in the
life and work of Christ. When He is giving proof of
his Divinity, lie applies to men for the relief of his
hunger and thirst, - and when He is accomplishing
their salvation He leans on them for the help of his
sorrows, and has his fainting hands held up, as those
of the great prophet of Israel were by Aaron and Hur.
There is surely nothing more touching in all the life
of the Saviour of men than that request in the garden,
"Tarry ye here, and watch with me."  It shows so
much his weakness and his strength, - the wonderful
sympathy, which made the suffering of his soul so full




CHRIST'S DESIRE FOR IT.         379
of anguish, and which yet made Him so strong to bear
it. In Gethsemane, as afterwards upon the cross, He
had an agony which none could measure but Himself.
He entered a cloud from the bosom of which we hear
only the broken cries of the struggle. But as near as
men can come, He entreats them  to approach,
"Closer, closer, brethren of humanity, to the Brother
who suffers for you, and suffers as none other can! "
There are moments when in our anguish we can do no
more than clasp the hand of a fellow-man in the darkness, and feel upheld by the touch. Though utterly
silent, it mingles with our soul and breaks the frightful solitude. With such a feeling, the Saviour sought
the nearness of his poor fainting friends in the garden,
- the strongest human spirit leaning upon human
weakness for help, and showing in this his power, for
it was this sympathy which nerved Him to endure the
agony for them.
" He encircled Him with love, made it
Impossible for Him to fail, so watched."
So God assures us that those can help suffering best
who can come nearest to its weakness, and that Christ
is our Saviour by taking on Himself every thing that is
ours, except that which would have unfitted Him to be
our Saviour, - a personal share in our sin.
With this same feeling He desired with desire to eat
this Passover with them before He suffered. To have
them full in view was to see the front rank of that
innumerable army of his redeemed,-" the joy set
before Him, for which He endured the cross and
despised the shame." It recalled the aim of all his
life and death, -the end for which he left his throne




380            THE LAST PASSOVER.
and walked the thorny path to his cross, till now He
stood beneath its thickest shadow. It made that end
rise clear above the clouds of his own depressing
thoughts, and gave Him an object to which his whole
soul went forth, as a mother to her helpless child, when
in some dreadful moment she forgets danger and casts
self away, and will do and dare what makes strong
men tremble. It is the figure of his own Word which
makes the tenderest human love a drop of the Divine
to lead us to the fountain: " Yea, she may forget, yet
will not I forget thee. Behold, I have graven thee on
the palms of my hands."
And when we see Christ moving to his cross, —
girdling and strengthening Himself with bonds of
sympathy, - it is to make us feel the outgoing of
God's own nature to the children of men. We could
be satisfied with no gifts from Him, however great and
godlike, unless his love were in them, - for in his love
we have Himself. We feel that God, who has given a
heart to man, must have a heart to meet it, else amid
all his gifts we are orphans. Were He to cast down
his redemption from an inaccessible throne, with a
pride that cares not for thanks, or an indifference that
despises affection, it would not be the redemption
which our souls desire. But neither does He. His
salvation does not coldly drop from his hand, it enters
with his heart; and that heart is opened in the sympathy and sacrifice of the Son of God. The Sovereign
of the universe wishes to be our friend and father, to
satisfy the thirst of the soul, which longs to be pressed
to an infinite heart -which cannot feel it up among
all the throbbing stars, and finds it only when He




CHRIST'S DESIRE FOR IT.        381
comes down through them to speak the words, - " I
will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the
water of life freely. And I will be his God, and he
shall be my son."
3. We are led naturally to this further reason —
that Christ desired to be present at the last Passover
because his friends needed special comfort. " To eat
this passover with you before I suffer." These words
must have told them what they were beginning to fear.
They had been long dimly conscious of the chilling
breath of the coming tempest, and now the tone of his
speech,- the deepening solemnity and tenderness, —
made them feel it was close upon them. " Because I
have said these things unto you, sorrow hath filled
your hearts."  Their cherished expectations were to
be crushed, -their Master taken from their head by
a cruel death,- and they scattered as sheep without a
shepherd.
It is a dreadful thing when the heart's dearest
affections are torn in pieces, and the faith broken
which should bind them up. We can scarcely realize
the trial through which the disciples had to pass, when
He whom they loved and reverenced above all on earth
was crucified before their eyes, and their hope in God
buried in his grave. They had to walk through a
darkness almost inconceivable by us, until their confidence was established in the risen Redeemer. But He
himself understood it all, for it was the shadowy edge
of his own deep darkness, and He wished to prepare
them for it. He desired to make his converse with
them at this Passover in the upper chamber, a strength
and consolation to them against the sore temptations




382            THE LAST PASSOVER.
they were to encounter; and He opens his heart to
them, and to his Father, in that heavenly discourse
and prayer which have been the treasure of his Church
in every age,- more to it than the parting song of
Moses was to the Israelites in all their conflicts, - and
sounding to us like the silver bells on the high priest's
garment, which told the people without that he was
still livifig, and interceding for them within the vail.
When we would have our hearts warmed to this
memorial of the death of Christ, let us think of the
thoughts that then glowed around it, and that breathe
of the very incense which He offers for us now in the
golden censer before the throne.
Who can tell how these words of Christ, and the
tones of them, lingered upon the ears and hearts of the
disciples, to preserve them from utter despair? those
warnings of coming tribulation, and the promise of the
Divine peace which was to keep them amid all — the
foreshadowings of bereavement and death; but the
open door, not far distant, of the Father's house of
many mansions, with the assurance of meeting there,
and of having every shadow chased away, and every
tear wiped off for ever! " Ye now have sorrow, but
I shall see you again, and your heart shall rejoice, and
your joy no man taketh from you."
And certainly it was not for them alone that Christ
desired to be present and bequeath these comforts.
It was for those also " who should believe on Him
through their word "- for us, here and now, and for
all in every part of the world who are " broken in their
hearts and grieved in their minds."  The tenderest
words are in keeping only with the tenderest moments.




CHRIST'S DESIRE FOR IT.        383
There are hours which unlock the lips to speak and
the heart to hear, and He longs for this hour to unburden his soul's emotion, and gather all its deepest
utterances round this memorial which has come down
from age to age to tell of the love of Him who poured
out his soul unto the death for us.
And may we not believe that Christ still prepares
his people for what may be lying before them, and that
He e'mploys his comforts " to prevent" them - to go
before them -in the day of their calamity?  If we
wisely observe our own life and that of our Christian
friends, we may frequently see that trials and death
have not only their forecast shadows, but their foreglancing illuminations of soul and resting-places in
providence, which are sent as a support against the
day of battle and of war. When darkness is about to
fall, God has lamps to put into the hand by anticipation. He who made his ark go before his ancient
people in all their wanderings, causes the consolations
of his Word to smooth the way of them that look to
Him. He knows what painful steps are before us in
the journey of life, what privations, what bereavements,-it may be that the most solemn step of all
must ere long be taken, - and He desires to eat this
Passover with us " before we suffer."  May the sign
help us so to clasp our hand on Him, that we may feel
we grasp the rod and staff of the promise, and that
when " our flesh and our heart faileth, IHe may be the
strength of our heart and our portion for ever."
4. The last reason we give for Christ's desire to be
present at this Passover is, that it lookedforward to all
the future of his (Yhurch and people.




384            THE LAST PASSOVER.
At the close of the last Passover, Christ instituted
that communion of the Supper which has come down
through many generations, and goes forth into all the
world as the remembrance of his death, and the pledge
of the blessings it has purchased for us. How frail this
little ark which his hand has sent out on those stormy
waters, but how safely it has carried its precious
freight! Empires have risen and fallen, society
been tossed in wild convulsion, and yet it holds on its
way, and will do, for Christ himself is in it with that
heart of love which shall yet bless a whole sinful
world.
If Christ was ever to sit down at his own table on
earth it must be now, and was it not fitting that He
should greatly desire it?
It was an engagement to be present at every other
communion where his friends meet to remember Him
-- a promise to be present with them, not in the corporal and carnal way some dream of, but with a true
spiritual nearness which makes good his own words,
" Yet a little while and the world seeth Me no more,
but ye see Me; " " Lo, I am with you alway, even unto
the end of the world."  When we look back through
time to that first night, we see Him blessing the bread
and breaking it, and giving to the disciples, and the
disciples to the multitude, till it reaches the far-off
ranks in which we gather round Him. This makes of
all communions a single fellowship, and brings the
scattered companies of Christians into one Church, of
which He is the Head unseen,- but the felt and everliving life.
And this presence of his, at the first communion,




CHRIST'S DESIRE FOR IT.         385
looks still farther - on to the period when, instead of
his Spirit, we shall have Himself. He desired to take
his place in person at the first communion in our
world, and when the great communion opens in
heaven, He shall be seen in his place once more. It
was his ardent wish in leaving, to impress upon the
hearts of his friends the confident expectation of meeting Him again, and of finding Him the same in affection as when He parted from them. This was to be
their star of hope, rising over every wave, re-appearing
from every cloud. In his farewell communion address
in John's Gospel, we find Him constantly recurring to
it: - "I shall see you again, and your heart shall
rejoice, and your joy no mail taketh from you." This
is the express meaning breathed into the ordinance by
his own words, —" I say unto you, I will not drink
henceforth of the fruit of the vine, until that day when
I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom;"
and it is the point of the apostle's declaration, — -" As
often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do
show the Lord's death till He come."
One object of Christ's presence, then, at this communion, was to make it the promise and the pledge
of his great return, when He shall change earth to
heaven, — faith to sight, — and these emblems into
his own glorious Person. The Passover came down
through long ages, pointing back to the deliverance
of Egypt, and forward to the coming of Christ; and
Christ himself changed it into this memorial, which
looks back to his death, and forward to his second
coming. It is the grand New Testament type, which
has a hand of faith to point to Christ's cross, and an25




386            THE LAST PASSOVER.
other of hope to point us to his throne — the pillar
which accompanies the Church's march, with its side
of cloud and sorrow, but also its side of light and
joy.
Dear as this memorial is to the Christian heart, it is
but the substitute for something dearer far - the personal presence of our Saviour and Lord. In due time
it likewise shall surrender its place and its use. The
cup of communion which we now hold has come down
to us from his own hand; and we send it forward until
it shall reach the hand that gave it to us. He will
resume that cup to cast it into the river of his pleasures, to disappear there for ever. It shall be needed
no more, for it brings but a feeble draught to parched
lips in the wilderness, and thenceforth we shall eternally drink at the fountain-head.
Yet, while we hold it with the hands of dying men,
let us realize through it our faith and hope. Let us
look back to that first night, when with desire He desired to eat the Passover with his friends, and forward
to the time when his Church shall possess Him again,
- the same, and yet how different! He, as human
in every sympathy, but manifestly and gloriously Divine! she, risen from the little company into "the
general assembly and church of the first-born - the
New Jerusalem, prepared as a bride adorned for her
husband! "
Blessed are they who are called to the marriagesupper of the Lamb! With desire may we desire it, and
have some foretaste of it, in souls that are open to the
life of that world into which Christ is gone. And may
He, whose desire was so set on the first communion,




CHRIST'S DESIRE FOR IT.        387
deign to visit ours, and make Himself known to us in
the breaking of bread, giving to us the wedding-garment, and the wine of the heart, and causing us to feel
that, even now, "He can satisfy the longing soul, and
fill the hungry soul with goodness."
Here we would gladly close these thoughts, and yet
we must add one more. He who had a desire to them
that truly owned his name, had a desire also that went
out wider. Never, in our most sacred service, let us
gather all our sympathies within the circle of Christian fellowship; or forget that we have a Saviour
whose compassion looks on a whole world. His call
is as wide as the race; his arms as outspread as his
invitation; his heart as large, and his sacrifice almighty to save. If there be one thing to which we
would cling with the entire soul's conviction, it is that
He has thrown open the door of forgiving mercy to
any and every sinner of the fallen family, and that He
stands at the gateway, with the sincerity of unchanging truth on his lips, and the pity of quenchless love
in his heart, — " Come unto me, all ye that are weary
and heavy laden, and I will give you rest."  "Him
that cometh to me I will in nowise cast out." Be
assured that the grief which wept over Jerusalem has
its tears for thee also; and that the heart which
yearned after the young man who refused his great
offer, follows thee tenderly, and asks thee to turn and
live. With you- every one —He desires to eat the
passover. He wishes you to acknowledge your friendship openly and unreservedly, but whether you make
the avowal or not,  He approaches you with the invitation, -" Behold I stand at the door and knock: if any




388            THE LAST PASSOVER.
man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in
to him, and will sup with him, and he with me."
There may be such an answer of the heart as shall
secure your share now in the hidden manna, - and a
sense of fellowship with Him, outside this table, —
which He will bring to view here on earth, or hereafter in heaven. May He find many welcomes of the
soul beyond what we openly express, and 1" the LORD
shall count them all when He writeth up the people."
Do but invite him now from the door of your heart in
such words, and He will at last return your invitation
from  the door of his heaven, - " Come in, thou
blessed; wherefore standest thou without?" Amen.
Even so, come, Lord Jesus.




I "Z.8 ~n~IXXII.
(AFTER COMMUNION.)
" I ray not that Thou shouldest take them out of the wvorld, but
that Thou shouldest keep themfrom the evil." -JOHN xvii. I5.
IHE prayer of our Lord in this chapter is one
of the most sacred spots in the Bible. Here,
if anywhere, sublimity and tenderness, — the
Divinity and humanity of Christ, -shine out united.
The circumstances make it deeply interesting. It
was offered up after He had kept his first communion
with his disciples; and it shows the wish of his heart
concerning those who have joined in it, that they may
be preserved from whatever would dishonor his name
or their own profession. It was presented in the near
prospect of his death; and it is a solemn and touching
consignment of them into the hands of his Father, that
they may be guided and guarded through all difficult
and dangerous ways, till they meet Him again in the
glory of the eternal life. He uttered it immediately
before He departed to take his seat at the right hand




890     CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.
of God as their intercessor; and it shows us the spirit
and the model of his mediation there. Already He
seems to have risen in thought to the higher sanctuary,
and his prayer has the fervor and nearness of one who
looks upon the open face of God. " And now I am no
more in the world, but these are in the world, and I
come to Thee."
If there be any thing that can commend it to us further, it is this,- that we who have entered the world
ages after the words were spoken have still our share
in them. " Neither pray I for these alone, but for them
also who shall believe in me through their word; that
they all may be one, as thou, Father, art in me, and I
in thee, that they also may be one in us." And so, if
we have come to his cross and table with sincere faith,
we have our interest in his never-dying advocacy,
and we abide all our days under the shadow of those
arms that were outstretched upon the cross to suffer,
and that are now lifted up on the throne to plead
for us.
There is a petition in this prayer well adapted to
our present circumstances, -" I pray not that Thou
shouldest take them out of the world, but that Thou
shouldest keep them from the evil; " and we shall seek
to show, first, What our Lord asks for his followers;
and, second, Why He asks it.
I. WHAT OUR LORD ASKS FOR US.
You will observe that his petition has two sides, —
a negative and a positive. He tells what He does not
ask, and what He does. He does not ask that God
"should take us out of the world."  His meaning is




CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.    391
not that He presents such a request absolutely, for
before this prayer closes He says, " Father, I will that
they also whom Thou hast given me be with me where
I am."  He means only that we should not be taken
out of the world immediately. He might have asked
that the gate of faith should at once become the gate
of heaven, and that the prayer, " Lord, remember me,"
should be answered in every case, " To-day shalt thou
be with me in paradise." It is our Lord's wish, however, that after men become Christians they should
remain a longer or shorter time in the world. His
next desire is that while in the world they may be kept
from the evil, —from the great, the only real evil,sin; the same prayer which He has taught them to
present for themselves, "' Deliver us from evil."
To be kept in the world implies three things, - to
be engaged in its business, to suffer under its trials,
to be exposed to its temptations and sins. These are
the things we have to face when we go forth into the
world; and in quitting a communion-table let us try to
realize what it is to be kept from evil in the midst of
them all.
i. To be kept from evil in the world means to be engaged in the world's business, and have it rightly directed.
There are some who have thought that we would be
more pure and Christian if we were to withdraw from
the activity of life to the solitude of the cell or desert.
Such a withdrawal must always be impossible for the
mass of men, and it is in direct opposition to the example of Christ, and to the spirit of his gospel. The
Lord Jesus Christ mingled with men all through his
own life, and touched them in every relation of theirs.




392     CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.
The world is his world, and it is open in its entire
breadth to those who belong to Him. When men were
converted by the preaching of his apostles, they were
not required to give up any honest occupation. If they
were found idle they were set to work, and commanded
" to be quiet, and mind their own business," - to be
"diligent in business, fervent in spirit, serving the
Lord." If the apostles were called from their first
employment, it was not because it was derogatory to
their character as Christians, but that they might give
undivided labor in another sphere. The great apostle
of the Gentiles did not think his office suffered when
he wrought at his trade of tent-maker, and —what
shall we say? -was not labor consecrated by the
Son of God himself?  It is written not only, " Is not
this the carpenter's son? " but, " Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary?" He who is our Divine
Master was in this also among us " as one that serveth," and put his hand to the world's work that He
might ennoble all true labor.
The gospel, then, does not withdraw men from the
world, with any affectation of refinement or superhuman purity. It belongs to man, and reckons nothing
that is man's alien to it. Whatever is open to men,
that is just and right in business, is open to Christians.
And they are to give themselves to it, not in any halfhearted way. They are not to be spectators or dreamers, but workers. Whatever their hands find to do,
they are to do it with their might. So far the boasted
gospel of labor preached in our day is only a fragment
broken from Christianity. Christ preached it to his
followers, but added this prayer, " that they should be
kept from the evil."




CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.    393
The gospel asks this of its friends, that all their business should be directed to a true end. Other men may
turn their work to ends that are merely personal.
They labor for the meat that perishes. Every Christian, whatever he is doing, should be laboring for that
which endures to everlasting life. His toil should not
have self for its end, but God and Christ, and, in them,
the good of suffering sinful humanity. When others,
with every fresh gain, put only the question, What
more can I do for myself? he is to ask, What more
can I do for Christ and his cause? What more for man?
The Christian will not have less security for his own
maintenance, but all the more. He will have his
daily bread by his Lord's prayer, but then he works
for it, not as an absolute owner of himself, or of his
labor, but as a steward; and all his business, in the
dullest cities where he toils, has spires pointing Godward and heavenward. Men may call this ideal and
impracticable, but it has been largely realized by some,
— it is, in a degree, by many, — and it is the only
thing that can redeem human business from being
dreary, degrading toil, and man himself from feeling
that he is a mere beast of burden. It will carry
comfort and dignity into every day of our life, and
every hour of the day, if we bear this precept with us:
" Whether therefore ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye
do, do all to the glory of God."
In addition to this end of his work, a Christian must
remember the manner in which it should be carried on.
The law of truth and justice should regulate every part
of it. Some think they can separate their religion
from their business, but it is the vain old endeavor to




394     CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.
serve God and mammon, - an utter ignorance of the
nature of Christianity which must touch every thing in
life, if it touches it at all. I know it is hard, some say
it is impossible, to carry out such a principle in the
midst of the complications and competitions of life.
But, if the gospel is not to make Christians truthful
and upright, I do not see any great purpose it can
serve on this side time or beyond it. And I. do not see
how we can be Christians at all, if we merely meet at
certain times, and indulge some pious sentiments, and
then go away and live our life without regard to God
and his will. If the world and its business are ever to
be put right, and cleared of the frightful frauds and
robberies that threaten the very ruin of society, where
is the stand to be made, if not by those who have
lifted up their hands to God and said, -" We are his
witnesses"?  Where should we resolve to shake our
hands free from these things, but at the table of Him
who "did no sin, neither was guile found in his
mouth"? The appeal to Christian men is, " What do
ye more than others? " What serves a gospel which
sets no example to a world that needs it, and leaves no
mark upon work which is vain and worthless, or
worse, if it is not regulated and sanctified by the will
of God?
2. To be kept in the world and kept from its evil,
means, to suffer under its trials and to be preserved from
impatience. If a man would escape trial, he must
needs go out of the world, and when Christ prayed
that his disciples should be kept in it, IHe knew that
they were to suffer affliction. " In the world ye shall
have tribulation." Moral distinctions are not observed




CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.    395
in the providential allotment of calamity.  Famine,
pestilence, shipwreck, and death in every shape, light
upon those who are God's servants, when they are
hastening on his errands. This stumbles many. But
only consider. If God were to adopt another plan,
and exempt his friends from trial, He would antedate
the day of judgment.  He would take away from
Christians one of the most effective means of their
training, and one of the most striking ways in which
they can prove their likeness to Christ. The righteous
is more excellent than his neighbor, but it is not seen
in his being saved from suffering; it is in the way in
which he meets it. A merely worldly spirit is ready in
severe affliction to fall into one of two extremes, —
either to cast the trial aside in levity, and to dissipate
thought by some engrossing pre-occupation; or to sink
into despondency, and consider all as lost. The spirit
of the Christian, which is also that of the true man, is
described by the apostle: " not to despise the chastening of the Lord, nor to faint when we are rebuked of
Him."
A spirit of hopeful patience is that which most of all
marks a Christian man in trial, as of one who knows
that there is a purpose in God's providence, if he could
discover it, and that, where he cannot, it will come out
some day, filled with wisdom and kindness. Few
things do more to raise the tone of our own Christian
life, and to prove to men that there is a hidden property in religion which can turn the bitterest things in
this world into sweetness. If there are some who have
to exemplify the truth and justice of the gospel in the
active business of life, there may be others appointed




396     CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.
to prove its patience and calm fortitude in hours of
bereavement and sickness and calamity. We may
learn this lesson also at the table of Christ, and in fellowship with his sufferings. It is here we are taught
the unmurmuring acquiescence in God's will, which
says, -" The cup that my heavenly Father hath given
me to drink, shall I not drink it? " Here we may learn
to avoid being absorbed in self, when we are suffering,
and to forget it in seeking to help and comfort others.
It was in the midst of his own heaviest of all. sorrows,
that Christ offered up this prayer for us, and sent forth
the memorial of that death of self-sacrifice which brings
to our lips the cup of consolation.
Here, too, we find the strongest appeal not to turn
our own trials into murmurs against God, or discontentment with things around us, or wrath against
those whom we may blame as the authors of our suffering. It was at this hour that He prayed, "Father,
forgive them," and included us among the number.
What a gentle, soothing influence might not all our
trials draw from such a source; how tender-hearted
and forgiving might we not learn to become through
the thought of Christ's forgiveness; and what sweetness
would not the tree of the cross infuse into every well
of Marah in our hearts, if we would but strive more
earnestly to cast it in at such a time as this, when the
Lord is showing it to us!
3. To be kept in the world, and kept from its evil,
means, to be exposed to its temptations, and preserved
from falling into sin. As long as we remain in the
world, temptation and sin beset us. They are all
around in objects of allurement: " the lust of the eyes,




CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.    397
the lust of the flesh, and the pride of life."  And they
are within, in the remaining corruption of an imperfectly renewed nature. It is Christians who are addressed, " Be watchful, be vigilant. Take heed, lest
there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief, in
departing from the living God." And the sad backslidings of many who gave evidence of being followers
of Christ prove that the warnings are not unneeded.
God has not seen fit to deprive sinful things of their
attractiveness, nor to disarm the great enemy of his
fiery darts, nor to quench at once and altogether the
inflammable material in our heart. This would be
fighting the battle and gaining the victory without us,
and there could then be no perfected purity, no established character, no conqueror's crown. Therefore
God sends forth his children into the battle to face all
these enemies, and Christ makes no request that they
may be spared - only that they should be kept from
the evil.
This should mark a Christian man in the world, that
he should have a deeper view of what is to be aimed at
in character, of what is meant by being kept from evil.
It is not to be preserved from misfortune, or sickness,
or reproach, or bereavement, but from sin. While
others may fix their view on the streams, and seek to
filter a portion of the current here and there, we must
begin at the fountain-head, and press this prayer, " Create in me a clean heart, 0 God." Other men may have
their own motives for avoiding wrong-doing -regard
to character, or health, or advantage. We must strive
to reach reasons higher and more powerful,- " How
can I do this wickedness, and sin against God?"




398     CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.
" The love of Christ constraineth us to live not unto
ourselves, but to Him who died for us."
At a communion-table these motives should be felt
in their power. " He who knew no sin, was made sin
for us, that we might be made the righteousness of
God in Him."  If this means, first, that we might be
covered with his perfect atonement, and accepted in
the Beloved, it means also that this should lead to our
being filled with his Spirit, and that we should seek
to purify ourselves, as He is pure. To make the death
of Christ a mere refuge-house for pardons is to degrade
it to the most selfish end, and to receive the grace of
God in vain. The Lord whom we acknowledge laid
down his life to blot out all the sinful past; but He
rose again that, in his Spirit of purity and love,
He might be our leader in the war with sin in every
form and degree. He consecrates us as his soldiers,
-clothes us with the whole armor of God, — and
sends us out to do battle with evil, first of all in the
heart which is its stronghold. If the death and life of
Christ are to have any practical meaning in our daily
walk, it must be this - the death of the false and impure in us, and the springing up of a new and Divine
life in their room.
Principle in the business of the world, and patience
under its trials, thus rise up into the view of an end
still nobler, -the putting on the likeness of Christ,
who is the image of Him who is invisible, - the clothing of the soul in that purity which is the garment of
the Father of lights, and which bestows on those who
possess it the power of seeing God. It is true that
the best of us aim only feebly and far off at such an




CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.    399
end as this; but even to feel that it is a worthy end,
and to aim at it in any way, is to have the earnest
already of an eternal life begun. Let us stir ourselves
up to lay hold of this afresh. To some men it is unintelligible, and even to Christians there are seasons
when, surrounded by the world's business and pleasure, it seems'dream-like and unnatural. But all the
deepest longings of man's soul, and all his truest
thoughts about God, bear him to it. It is the essence
of the Bible, and the object of the entrance of the Son
of God into our world. It is the inmost heart of his
prayer for us, and it is the sober reality which comes
before us at every communion-table. " 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."
II. We come now to give some reasons WHY OUR
LORD ASKS FOR HIS FRIENDS THAT THEY SHOULD NOT
BE TAKEN OUT OF THE WORLD.
He asks it for the benefit of the world. If Christ
were to remove men to his immediate presence so
soon as they become his followers, He would be taking
away from the world those who were meant to be its
greatest blessings. True Christians are the salt of the
earth. Distributed over its surface, they help to preserve it from the utter corruption to which it would
otherwise sink. They are more, - they are its light.
If ever the world is brought to the knowledge of God,
it must be through their instrumentality. If they were
removed there would be no church on earth to witness




400     CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.
for God. It would be the darkness of Egypt without
light in any dwelling, the corruption of Sodom without
a Lot to be grieved for it; and if the earth were still
preserved, it would only be for the sake of those who,
in time coming, might be drawn from it to God. This
world would then be a quarry from which stones were
taken, as from heathen Tyre, and transported, so soon
as cut, to form the house of God in another land. But
it would not be a site on which a temple shall rise
to God's glory, growing from age to age, until it fill
the extent of the wide earth, and have the " headstone
brought forth with shoutings, Grace, grace unto it!"
But this is God's purpose, - to make that earth which
has witnessed the sufferings and death of his Son,
illustrious also as the scene of his final triumph. The
victory is complete when the Conqueror remains in
undisputed possession of the field.
He asks it for the honor of his own name.  There
is glory that accrues to the name of Christ, and there
is joy among the angels when a sinner drops the
weapons of rebellion, and becomes, through Him, the
child of God, There is glory also that comes to Him,
when his redeemed are brought home, and when,
arrayed in the beauties of holiness, they cast their
crowns before the throne with the ascription, " Worthy
is the Lamb that was slain! " But it is for his honor
also that there should be an interval between, -a
pathway of struggle, where the power of his grace may
be seen in preserving his friends in every extremity.
The more threatening the rocks and eddies, the fiercer
the winds and waves, so much the more honor to Him,
who sometimes asleep in the ship (as men deem it),




CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.    401
sometimes absent, can keep it from wreck, and carry
it in safety to the desired haven. What an emphatic
challenge there is to every enemy in his own words,
"I give unto my sheep eternal life, and they shall never
perish, neither shall any pluck them out of my hand"!
We see their emblem there, - a feeble wandered lamb
in the midst of the wilderness waste and howling,
and around it the ravening wolf and roaring lion, the
treacherous pitfall and poisonous wind. But when his
hand has fed and tended, and guarded and guided
it on to the green pastures and still waters of the
heavenly land, the lengthened hazards of the way
shall commend the power and kindness of the Great
Shepherd more than if He had snatched it at once
from the midst of peril, and set it in the bosom of
perpetual peace. It was a glorious thing for the Head
himself to enter the lists of battle, and after a conflict
that bent Him to the depth of agony, to depart a victor,
triumphing through endurance to the death. But it
multiplies his triumph, or, we should rather say, it
brings out in its true and manifold form all that was
hidden in it, when we see it repeated in the victory of
the meanest and weakest of his followers. It is like
the sun reflecting his image from every dew-drop,
folding out his treasures in the green of leaves and
colors of all the flowers, and flashing his light along
the beaded moisture of gossamer threads, - for we
believe that not a blessing or a comfort, not a grace or
virtue, rises out of the night of our sin and suffering, -
not the slightest filament of feeling sparkles into hope,
— but it will be found that it owes its source to the
26




402     CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.
fountain of light and life which God has opened for
his world in Jesus Christ.
The last reason for this petition of our Lord is, for
the good of Christians themselves. " Master, it is good
for us to be here," Peter said, when a ray of heaven's
light shone upon him  on the Holy Mount, "let us
build here three tabernacles."  As if he had said,
"' Why go down again into the dark world of opposition
and trial, when we can enjoy here at once the heavenly
vision?"  But "' he wist not what he said," and he was
compelled to descend, and travel many a weary footstep, before he reached that higher mount where he
now stands with his Lord in glory. We, too, may
sometimes feel that it would be better for us to be
carried past these temptations and struggles, and to
enter at once into rest. There are times when that
rest seems so much to be desired, and this world so
little, that our soul, like that of the ancient Israelites,
" is much discouraged because of the way." But He
who undertakes for us knows what is best, and as it
was expedient for us that He should depart, so must
it also be that we should for a season remain behind.
Not that this is indispensable for our sanctification,
as some say; for the Saviour who could carry the
dying thief at once to paradise, could do the same for
all of us, and the advance which the best of Christians
make in this world is so small, compared with the
mighty transformation needed at death, that it cannot
enter much into the account. The reason seems rather
to be that there are lessons which we have to learn on
this earth which can be taught us in no other part of
our history.




CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.    403
One of these is the evil of sin. And, therefore, we
are detained in a world where its effects are so terrible,
where we have to struggle with its consequences in
our personal life, and its temptations in our soul.
The angels of God may learn to hate sin when they
have seen it lay waste a fair world, over whose birth
they sang together with the morning stars. The infant
that has tasted the cup of life, and turned away its lips
from the draught, may learn to hate it still more, for
it has felt, at least, one of its fruits. But most of all
must he loathe it who has wrestled with it in mortal
agony till he has cried out, "0 wretched man that I
am! who shall deliver me? "    and, above all others,
his song shall rise triumphant, " I thank God, through
Jesus Christ our Lord." There must be some who
pass through this experience, to give the key-note of it
to all God's holy universe.
Another part of God's desire may be that we should
enjoy more fully the blessedness of heaven. Our bitter
bereavements will intensify the joy of its meetings;
its rest will be sweeter for the hard toil; and its perfect light and purity fill the soul with a far more
exceeding glory for the doubts and temptations which
oppress us here. How gladly shall the weary dove of
hope, which flutters in every human breast, alight at
last on the eternal ark of God's safety, when it has
found no resting-place for the sole of its foot over all
the wide world, and how joyfully shall it feel the hand
of the great Deliverer outstretched to take it in, when
it comes, weary and worn with the stormy wind and
swelling billow! Many a painful footstep the pilgrim
must tread before he reaches the Father's house which




404     CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.
shines forth its welcome above, but this promise may
cheer him," There remaineth a rest to the people of
God," and when it is attained the pain and peril of the
way shall enhance the peace and safety of the eternal
home. The path itself shall be seen to be a right
way; the deepest valleys of death shall be lighted up;
and with Him, who rose from the lowest depth of
suffering to be the centre of heaven's joy, thou shalt
say, " I waited patiently for the Lord, and He inclined
unto me, and heard my cry. He brought me up also
out of an horrible pit, out of the miry clay, and set my
feet upon a rock, and established my goings. And he
hath put a new song into my mouth, even praise unto
our God."
And now when we pass from the communion of
Christ's house into the active world, let this petition
of his point out our duty. What He asked for us we
must aim at. He did not request wealth or fame or
comfort. He chose them not for Himself, and He did
not reckon them so needful for us as to put them into
his parting prayer. On one thing his heart was set,
— that we should be " kept from the world's evil."
Let us fear nothing so much as sin; and feel that our
life can aim at a true and noble end, only when it
breathes the air of this prayer of Christ.
And in this aim his prayer will make us feel our
security. The life of a Christian man is in no common keeping. It is suspended on the intercession of
Christ - upon the will of the Highest in the universe
when He is engaged in his holiest act -- when He is
pleading before the throne of God. We continue in
this world while He asks that we should remain, and




CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.    405
we cannot die till He lifts his hand and utters his
"Father, I will that they be with me where I am,
that they may behold my glory " (John xvii. 24).
"Whether we live, therefore, or die, we are the
Lord's."  How strong may we not feel in all our conflicts on the plain, while such a Prophet is praying for
us on the mount! how comforted in all our sorrows,
when such refreshments are ready to be wafted down
from the overshadowing wings of the mercy-seat!
" Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor
for the arrow that flieth by day - He shall cover thee
with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou
trust."  "Nay, in all these things we are more than
conquerors through Him that loved us."
Are there hearts and lives that have not been surrendered into this keeping, - that are being wasted on
vanity or ruined in sin? Your body's life cannot exist
against the laws of his natural world. If it enters
into conflict with them it must perish.  Can your
soul's life prosper in defiance of the laws of his very
nature, and of the prayers of the Son of God? When
He pleads against sin, and in behalf of truth and
righteousness, where can your hope be for safety? It
is a terrible thing to have arrayed against us the
requests of Him whom the Father heareth always -
to know that the triumph of the petition for right
insures our doom. There is one resource —an open
and a plain one. He is willing, most willing, to take
your soul and life into his keeping, and to write your
name upon his priestly breastplate. He is willing to
do it at once "' with the pen of a ready writer." He
does not decline to pray for you till your life has given




406     CHRIST'S PRAYER FOR HIS DISCIPLES.
you some title to hope for it, but whatever your life
may have been, if it is only surrendered now in contrite submission to his will, his prayer ascends already
for you, to raise its feeble spark into a flame. It was
for this He died, for this that He lives, and if there be
any meaning in the intercession of Christ, it is that the
humblest look upward to the pure and true, -the
feeblest cry for aid in the battle against sin, - finds a
face to represent it, and a voice to speak for it before
the throne of God. Only let your look and cry be true,
however weak, and you can claim all the aid that the
prayer of Christ insures, and rejoice in the thought
that such aid is almighty. "Now know I that the
Lord saveth his anointed; he will hear him from his
holy heaven with the saving strength of his right hand.
Save, Lord; let the King hear us when we call."




XXIII.
Cope and  afne.
" t zs good that a man should both hiope and quietly wait for the
salvation of the Lord." -LAMENT. iii. 26.
HERE are few parts of the Bible where, in so
short a compass as this chapter, there is shown
such a bitterness of sorrow and such a strength
of consolation. The grief and comfort pursue each
other, like the shadows and sunshine of a day in spring.
A mighty wave breaks over the man's head, and all
seems lost, but we see him again standing on firm
ground, and his voice comes out, not in cries for help,
but in expressions of confidence. He is afflicted in
body and depressed in soul, assailed by enemies, and
grieved by the state of God's cause, but one thing constantly re-appears to sustain him - the view of God
himself. And if the sky overhead will clear in this
way, though at intervals, we can hold on when all the
earth is wrapped in gloom. It is from heaven, and
not from earth, that a believing man expects the outcome of the sun. You find, therefore, that his eye




408            HOPE AND PATIENCE.
looks upward; and, when it cannot see God, it seeks
the place where He is hidden, as a flower bends its
head toward the cloud which veils the light.
God and his salvation are the object of his desire.
Gladly would he possess them, but, if he cannot, he
will make them the object of his hope, and, if hope fails,
he will quietly wait. There is no case so desperate, —
no weary disappointment so prolonged, -in which
there does not remain some duty towards God. This
is what we have to consider. In the 24th verse this
sufferer speaks of his hope in God: " The Lord is my
portion, saith my soul, therefore will I hope in Him."
In the 25th verse he speaks of " waiting for God."'A' The Lord is good unto them that wait for Him, to the
soul that seeketh Him."  And here, in the 26th verse,
he combines the two. " It is good that a man should
both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the
Lord."
We shall, first, consider what is meant by the " salvation of the Lord;" next, the separate exercises of the
soul toward it; and lastly, the benefit of conjoining
these -" both to hope and quietly to wait."
I. The FIRST thing is to understand what is meant
by the " salvation of the Lord."
Now, God's salvation is used very frequently in the
Bible for his interposition to save the soul of man from
sin —that great salvation which is the sum and substance of the Bible; and a man becomes possessed of
it when, in humble trust, he commits his soul to God's
mercy, as it is made known. We do not think, however, that it is this salvation which is here spoken of,




HOPE AND PATIENCE.            409
for though a man may be encouraged " to hope," he
cannot be urged " quietly to wait for it." He is to
strive - to ask and seek and knock until he finds; but
there is not a spot in the search after God where he is
entitled to sit down and rest. If we look, moreover,
into the language of the chapter we shall see that it is
not that of a man who is ignorant of God. He is acquainted with his gracious character, and has learned
to rely on it.
The " salvation of the Lord " here is something else
than the first view which a sinful man obtains of pardon and peace, through " the great God our Saviour."
It is the salvation which a man needs in any crisis of
life, where he suffers under trial or is threatened with
it. And, in these trials, hope and quiet waiting do not
come at once into their fullest exercise. As long as
human means can avail, it is a man's duty, trusting to
Divine help, to employ them. To sit and wait, where
effort can avail, is to insult God's providence. The
s" salvation of the Lord " is when all conceivable means
have been employed, and have failed. The hand can
do, the heart can devise, nothing more. When the
Israelites had reached the Red Sea with the mountains on either side and the Egyptians behind, the
words of Moses were, " Stand still, and see the salvation
of God."
Such positions are frequently arrived at in life. We
feel that we are at the end of all endeavor, and the
object has not been gained. Our strength and resources,-all possible expedients, -have been brought
into exercise. The last reserve has been thrown into
the battle, and yet it goes against us. We may strug



410            HOPE AND PATIENCE.
gle on with a blind despair, and, as long as strength
remains, we must struggle on; but this power, too,
seems to be failing. It is then that the case rises distinctly into " the salvation of the Lord."  Nothing can
save us but his marked interposition, and the heart
must put itself in the attitude of "hope and quiet
waiting " for it.
The trials of this kind are innumerable, as varied as
the lives of men, and when we instance one or two, we
know that we touch only the surface of human experience.
There may be some who are using every endeavor
to secure subsistence and an honorable position for
themselves and those dependent on them; and yet all
their efforts are unsuccessful. Slowly the tide of comfort, and even of the means of existence, is ebbing;
and the dark reefs, wh]ich threaten utter shipwreck, lift
their head. If some change does not quickly come they
feel that temporal ruin is on them. It is a time not to
relax effort, but to look out more intently for deliverance from God, and to have the heart resting on it.
Or there may be some one who has the presence of
a constant difficulty in the spiritual life- perhaps the
want of that sense of religious comfort which is felt to
be so desirable, or the obtrusion of some painful doubt
about doctrine or duty, through which no present light
can be seen. To cast the thing aside and become
indifferent to it, would be against the promptings of
the whole spiritual nature; and yet to reconcile it with
other convictions is meanwhile impossible. There are
many such cases of painful want of harmony in our
time. A period occurs in every genuine life when the




HOPE AND PATIENCE.            411
simple faith of childhood has to pass over into the intelligent faith of manhood, and such periods occur also
in the history of the world. Many things then seem
shaken when they are only about to be established on
new and higher ground. If there are some who are
involved in such a struggle, and if all thought has failed
to open a path through it, it is a time also for this
more entire reliance upon God. No exertion to reach
light is to be neglected, but there may be a more
implicit confidence in Him who is the Father of lights,
— holding steadfastly to what is felt to be true, and
waiting for illumination on what is doubtful —" casting out the anchor and wishing for the day."
Perhaps there are some who are deeply interested in
the spiritual welfare of a soul dear to them as their
own. Their prayer has been rising, like that of Abraham for Ishmael, "0 that he might live before God! "
But all means have appeared to fail. If there is not
positive disregard of religion, there is, at least, want
of that thorough decision which is so longed for by
those who know the full value of God's friendship, and
who yearn to see all that their heart loves most included
in it. There is a certain length we can go in such
endeavors, and we feel that to go further might injure
the end we seek. Then this'remains to us- to take
all our endeavor, and leave it with God, in whose hand
ore the hearts of all men, who can follow the wanderer
wherever his feet or his thoughts may carry him, and
can bring him again to himself, and to his Father's
house.
Or, it may be, there is some life which has lost all
the relish it once possessed, -where wasting sickness




412            HOPE AND PATIENCE.
has undermined the strength, - or friends who were
the hue and perfume of it have been taken away, - or
hopes that hung on its horizon like a coming glory have
melted into thin air, - and existence seems to have no
more an object, and duty sinks into a dull mechanical
round, and the night comes down dark and starless,
and the morning rises cold and colorless. It is hard
to say what can restore to such a life its vigor and
freshness, for the mind comes oftentimes to have a
morbid love of the gloom which is its misery, and to
reckon it treason to its past hopes to turn its eye from
their sepulchre. God only knows the remedy, and it
is a special time to call up higher duty to our aid -
the duty of turning to Him, and striving to feel that
He has it in His power, though we may not see how, to
save us over the grave of our most cherished hopes,
without causing us to forget them, and to shine in with
a reviving light upon the dullest and bleakest of earthly
walks.
There is, probably, not one of us but has some such
trial as these, - some object on which our heart has
been set, not yet attained, or taken away from us
beyond the prospect of recovery.. We stand at the end
of all our exertion, and our desire is far out of our
reach. A man who has faith only in worldly resources
is powerless here. He must give up in despair, or cast
himself on a blind chance. But, for a believing man,
there is still a duty and a stay. When he cannot take
a step farther in human effort, there is a pathway tc
the sky, and his heart can travel it. There is a salvation of the Lord which lies beyond and above every
deliverance in the power, or even the conception of




HOPE AND PATIENCE.            413
man, " Hast thou not known, hast thou not heard, that
the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends
of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? There is
no searching of His understanding." Then comes the
time to realize this - that if the object of our desire
be right and good, He can give it to us in a way we
dream not of, and that, if it be denied, it is because
there is something better in store, " above what we can
ask or think." Some hidden treasure of the soul is to
be opened up, or some future gain of the immortal life
is being prepared by this delay. The blessing we long
for can come in this world, sudden and wonderful,
written all over with the manifest tokens of God's
hand; or, if it may never be ours here, it carries the
standard of hope beyond the gulf to plant it on the
shores of the eternal. We may quietly wait with
the assurance that every blessing will be found complete when those who trust in Him are saved in the
Lord, with an everlasting salvation.
II. The SECOND thing is to consider what is meant
by these exercises of the soul towards God's salvation,
--  to hope, and quietly to wait."
Every one of us knows, without any labored definition, what it is to hope. But if we are to set ourselves
to practise it in a Christian way, it may be useful to
look at some of its elements.
The foundation of hope may be said to lie in desire.
It differs from desire in this, that desire pursues many
things that can never be objects of hope to us. We
can only hope for such desires as are possible and
reasonable. This then is the first thing for us to do,




414            HOPE AND PATIENCE.
if we would strengthen hope, to see that its objects are
right and good, -that is, accordant with the Divine
will, and beneficial for us. We may learn this by consulting God's Word, and our own thoughtful experience. We are sure never to err when we begin with
the blessings that concern our spiritual and immortal
nature. We may wish, without fear and without limit,
for whatever brings us nearer to God's friendship and
fellowship- for whatever forms in us the mind and
likeness of Christ. After this we are perfectly free to
desire those things which meet the wants of our entire
nature, as far as these are sinless. That nature is of
God's making, and all its necessities and affections
have true and proper objects. But, on this human
side, we should never wish with the same absolute
strength, for we live in a world where the lower comes
often into conflict with the higher; and we should seek
to desire things in their due proportion - first, the
kingdom of God and His righteousness, and then all
the other things that may be fitly added to it. If we
have been taught thus to govern our desires, we have
laid the foundation of well-grounded hope.
The next element in Christian hope is faith. Hope
differs from faith in this, that we believe in many
things in regard to which we do not hope. Hope is
faith with desire pointing out the objects. If we have
sought to make these desires Christian and reasonable, then we may consistently call in the aid of faith.
" The Lord shall give that which is good."  We have
the assurance in the knowledge of Him, as the" Father
of spirits," that He will care for the souls He has made.
If we give up to His keeping that precious and immor



HOPE AND PATIENCE.            415
tal part of our nature, we may have the most perfect
conviction that He will satisfy all the longings He has
infused into it, and will fill it with all the happiness of
which it is capable. And as He is the " God of the
spirits of all flesh," - of spirits which dwell in fleshly
tabernacles, - and which are open, therefore, to joys
and sorrows dependent on them, we may be sure that
He will not overlook this part of our nature. Only
His care of it will be proportioned to that same importance which we have been taught to observe in our
desires. So we may reason from the general spirit of
the Bible; and when we go to its particular promises,
we find them every one bearing out this view. They
tell us that the spiritual, as it is to be unfolded and
perfected in the eternal, is the great concernment of
God's dealings with us; but that, in subordination to
this, all that belongs to our happiness is the object of
His care, and may be the subject of our hope. The
greater end does not finally exclude the less; it only
modifies and regulates it; and makes it, in its last
issue, more certain and complete. The hope of the
Bible is, first of all, divine, like its great subject, but
it is also, like Him, truly and tenderly human. For a
time they are in outward conflict, the human crying
out in suffering and struggle, but, all the while, sustained by the divine, and destined at last to enter into
a visible and glorious harmony with it.
When we have sought to purify our desires and to
make them the subject of faith, as far as they are right
and good, there is still a third element to be added to
make our hope strong - that of imagination. I know
that this word is misjudged by many, and associated,




416            HOPE AND PATIENCE.
if not with the sinful, at least with the visionary. But
it is a true, God-given, part of human nature, and
ready to be turned to the noblest use. While sin has
made it a charnel-house of corruption, or a storehouse
of vanities, purity can fill its treasury with divine
aspirations which are as grand as they are transcendently real. It is that power of the soul which gives
to hope its wings. Let it but rise from the desire of
what is true and good, and be chastened by the faith
of what God has promised, and it can lift up the soul
above the most terrible trials, and put it already in
possession of the unseen and heavenly. No one can
read the Bible without seeing that it has everywhere
its Pisgahs and Tabors, and exceeding high mountains,
whence the beauty and glory of the future are to be
discerned, - and God's Spirit carries men to their
summit, and bids them open their eyes. It is true
that all cannot rise to the same height, nor look with
the same vision, but in every nature the faculty of the
ideal lies hidden, and religion was intended, above all
things else, to call it forth. Every true Christian has
the soul of the poet latent in his nature, and, if many
are kept depressed and earth-attracted, it is because
they do not strive enough to free this power from sinful and worldly encumbrances, and to give it wings to
soar to its native home.
Let us dwell more on those scenes of the invisible
and future which are depicted in God's Word, and of
which the renewed heart has the presentiment in itself,
and while the imagination gives vividness to these pictures, faith will give reality to them; for it tells us
that, in the degree in which they are good for us, they




HOPE AND PATIENCE.             417
must be ours. Even in regard to the deliverances
and blessings which we may desire from God in our
present life, we are not required to forecast the issue
in colorless vagueness. As we may wish and pray for
definite things, so we may imagine them, and try to
think how God may and can bestow them. The imagination which is permitted to others, is not forbidden
to a Christian, only with him it will not be so positive
as to dictate God's way of realizing it. He will seek
to feel, in all his forecastings, that God can do to him
above what he can think, and that even in this world
it does not enter into man's heart to conceive what
God prepares for them that love Him. What he hopes
for, whether of the heavenly or earthly, will still be
the salvation of the Lord.
The next exercise of soul which we are to cherish
toward God's interpositions is "quiet waiting."
There come times in life when, as labor seems vain
and resultless, so also hope droops and is ready to die.
The strong emotions of our nature do not continue
long with equal freshness. The laws of action and reaction, as in material things, come into operation, and,
in proportion to excitement which has strained nature,
there is depression. It would save some Christians
much grief and vain self-reproach if they would remember this.  We are often no more accountable for our
moods than for our temperament. After seasons of
excessive emotion, there will come times of lassitude
sinking to torpor. Both have their use. The shadow
is as necessary for growth as the sunshine, and these
alternations give the Christian graces their full proportion in the character. Both have their duties. Though
27




418            HOPE AND PATIENCE.
we may not be responsible for moods, we are for the
way in which we act under them. When all our endeavor fails, we are to fall back on hope, and when
hope begins to faint, there is still left to us " quiet
waiting." So full of resources is the grace of God,
that, as each lower deep of trouble opens, a new power
in the Christian life can be created to meet it.
" Quiet waiting " is that which, in other parts of the
Bible, and especially in the New Testament, is termed
patience. It is the part of hope to seek the future; it
is the duty of patience to rest calmly in the present,
and not to fret — to be satisfied to be where God appoints, and to suffer what God sends. It is fitly placed
after hope, because it follows it in the natural course
of an educated Christian life. Hope belongs to youth;
patience is the lesson of maturity. Hope enters with
a man into his first battle, perhaps in some forms it is
never brighter than then —the helmet-hope of salvation, has been dimmed and dinted by no blow; but
patience is the hard acquirement of the veteran, gained
in many a march and campaign. So it was unfolded
for our example in the Captain of our salvation, who
endured God's will after He had done it, and took the
cup of trial patiently into his hand when He had finished his active work.
As there are means for stimulating hope, so there
are also for strengthening patience, and there is, in
some measure, a correspondence in them.
One means is common to both - the employment of
faith. It will enable us more quietly to wait if we
have confidence in the all-wise and all-merciful arrangements of God. The failures, - the seeming blanks




HOPE AND PATIENCE.            419
and dull monotonies of life, —which try our patience
most, are equally at his disposal with its highest activities and enjoyments, and the very wildernesses and
solitary places of it may be those which shall yet rejoice
and blossom like the rose. He can make all its wastes
to be as Eden, and bring out the best spiritual results
from what seem to us the most barren spots.
In other respects, the means for growing in patience
are very different from those that help hope. If hope
is nursed by desire of what we have not, patience is
maintained by contentment with what we have. Our duty
may be, when desire of something lost or longed for is
consuming us, to bend our look more intently on the
present, and try to discover how many things, and how
precious, God has left to us. There are situations in
life which, to the outside spectator, appear the most
dark and cheerless, that are far from being so to those
who are in the centre of them. Bright spots come out,
and sources of interest open up, which common eyes
disregard; and we learn that life may be like the homes
of some Eastern lands, which have their dull, dead
walls to the crowd, but their fountains and flowers and
singing birds in the courts within- There are many
joys with which a stranger cannot intermeddle, which
he cannot even discern, and, if we are to wait quietly,
we must cultivate an eye for these. One purpose of
our detention may be that we may discover them, for,
both in the natural and Christian life, men lose what
is near, in their haste to reach the distant. Nay, more,
if they reached the future it would disappoint them,
for it is only to those who have learned to draw from
the present its hidden stores that the future can yield




420            HOPE AND PATIENCE.
its true and rich treasures. It is not necessary that
we should shut out hope as one of these sources of
present interest, but we must admit it as the handmaid
of patience, not as its mistress, and we must treat it so
that we can feel thankful there are many other things
besides hope which still abide.
Then, instead of that imagination which nourishes
hope, we must cultivate patience by a calm attention to
duties. Quiet waiting is not inaction. We may be
waiting for one object, while we are steadily working
for another. If some aim that engrossed our life is
withdrawn, and some way of usefulness that had all
our affection is closed, we shall find there are other
roads to walk in, and other works to perform, provided
the heart will accept them. Even though the heart
shrinks, if the hand will only give itself to what it finds
to do, and will do it with its might, the heart will follow. It is a kind law of our nature, that labor expended on any object gives an interest in it; and it is
a still kinder law of the kingdom of God, that the
tamest and most insignificant of daily duties may be
made noble and divine, when the thought of God and
the will of Christ are carried into them. One soul may
rise to heroism in the narrowest circle of routine, when
another dwindles upon the grandest fields of action.
Thus the means are at our disposal for building up
these virtues of hope and patience in our character.
When we give our souls up in trust to God, He gives
them back to us again with his hand on them, that we
may labor to fill them with all that can make them
happy in the future and strong in the present.




HOPE AND PATIENCE.            421
III. We come now, in the THIRD place, to consider
the benefit of uniting these -" It is good both to hope
and quietly to wait."
But is it possible to unite them? It would seem as
if hope and patience were at open war. Hope carries
us to the future; patience binds us to the present.
Hope has a restless fire and energy; the strength of
patience is in calm and often in unresisting endurance.
We can see, as we look around, how ready men are to
run into one or other of the extremes -how some
natures are over-sanguine and unsteadfast, others
submissive to all that comes, with a dull despondency.
Yet it is for this very reason that the two are conjoined,
and that we are urged to aim at the true balance. If
we feel that our nature tends to either side, we must
strive, with God's help, to correct it by its opposite.
We know how, in material laws, forces which counteract each other can combine in harmony. The attraction that holds our world to the sun is met by the
impulse which propels it straight into space, and the
movement which gives us day and night, summer and
winter, is the result of both. Every Christian heart
feels how it can be going forward in thought to
some blessing God has promised, and yet resting, while
it is withheld, in submission to the Divine will, - as
John, in Patmos, walked the streets of the heavenly
city, and listened to its songs, and yet abode in his solitary exile, and was satisfied to be there as long as God
required.
That we may be led to aim at both of these, consider
this, that the one is needful to save the other from sinking
into sin. If hope possessed the Christian heart alone,




422            HOPE AND PATIENCE.
it would be ready to flutter itself into impatience. The
brighter the future rose upon the vision, the more the
man would fret against the delay. Hope left to itself
would be an ill-disciplined child, that cries for what its
heart is set upon, and will hear of no denial. It would
soon cease to be hope, — its clear eye would be dim
with tears of discontent, and its heart would sink for
the distance from its goal.
On the other hand, if we had quiet waiting without
hope, it would be in danger of settling into stagnancy.
The object of its waiting would disappear, and trials
without any end in view would benumb and paralyze
it. Hope without patience would be life kindling into
over-intensity, and burning itself out in fruitless longings. Patience without hope would be the decay of
life's flame for want of nourishment, till it would sink
into the quietude of death. Whenever hope rises into
impatience, it is the will of God that quiet waiting
should lay its hand upon it, and bid it " rest ill the
Lord and wait patiently for Him, and not fret," for
there is purpose in his delay, and occupation meanwhile for us. When patient waiting, on its side,
becomes indifferent or torpid, it is not less the will of
God that hope should come and wake it up, as the cry
did the slumbering virgins, " Behold the bridegroom
cometh, go ye forth to meet Him." On either side we
may fall into sin, and the fully approved state is to
have the eye looking forward, while the heart is at
rest, —to combine these two, as they are found so
often in the Bible: by the Psalmist (cxxx. 5), " I wait
for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in his word do I
hope," -by the Apostle (1 Thess. i. 3), " the patience




HOPE AND PATIENCE.            423
of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ,"- and by the
speaker here, " both to hope and quietly to wait for the
salvation of the Lord."
Consider this also, that the one is needful to raise
the other to its full strength.  Christian patience rises
to its proper power not through any force of insensibility. It is thoughtful and reasonable, and must know
where it is and what it waits for. It is the part of
hope to tell it this, -to throw into it the light of intelligence, and make it strong with the promises and
the power of God. The Saviour still leaves us, as iHe
left his first disciples in the garden, with the words,
"Tarry ye' here and watch," and promises to come
again. If hope can lay hold of this promise, and keep
it fast, patience will maintain its post like a sentinel
who is sure of relief at the appointed hour, and if the
hour seems long, will beguile it with those words, which
have passed like a " song in the night" through many
a weary heart, -" For yet a little while, and He that
shall come will come, and will not tarry."
Then, as hope strengthens patience, patience in
return will strengthen hope. Such allies are all the
Christian graces, children in one family, who, if there
be love among them, supplement each other by their
opposites. If a man is enabled to " rest in the Lord,
and wait patiently for Him," it is a reason to him for
hoping that there is a divine work going on in his life,
which the God of patience and consolation will complete. If I can feel that there is a strength which
bears me up under heavy burdens and lonely hours, I
can trust it for more than this. I must trust it for more,
since my inmost heart feels that patience is only the




424            HOPE AND PATIENCE.
means of my life's walk, and not its end, and God does
not intend to deceive us, either by our human or our
Christian instincts. Patience brooding over its own
quiet spirit, which yet it feels is not its own, has the
presentiment and augury of an end beyond itself.
In the deep well of a tranquil heart, the star of hope
is lying, — ever clearer as the calm is deepening,reflected down into it from God's own heaven.
This is God's manner, first, to give the inward peace
of soul, and afterwards the final deliverance. He came
into the ship and calmed the disciples' fears, and then
He spoke and calmed the storm: " I will be with thee
in trouble: and then it follows, " I will deliver thee."
Peter's prison was opened by the prayers of friends
without, but that of Paul and Silas was burst by the
song within, and this is something nobler and better.
When God gives to us this patience which can rise
even to triumph, we may begin to rejoice in hope, and
be sure that He will proclaim liberty to the captives.
It is the order of that golden chain (Rom. v. 3),
"Knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience, experience; and experience, hope: and hope
maketh not ashamed; because the love of God is shed
abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost, which is given
unto us."'
And now, if it be possible to unite these two, and if
it be so needful, it should be the lesson of our life daily
to aim at it, - to hope without impatience, and to wait
without despondency,- to fold the wing in captivity,
like a caged bird, and be ready to use the pinion when
He breaks our prison. Let us address ourselves with
a cheerful endurance to our duties, whether they weary




HOPE AND PATIENCE.            425
us by their weight or by their trivial monotony, - and
to trials, whether they come in great afflictions or in
fretting and ever-recurring vexations. We may attain
to that hopeful patience which comes not from stoicism but Christianity, which feels all the good of life,
and yet can be strong and satisfied in the want of it, -
the finest acquirement of that higher school which the
gospel has introduced, "I have learned in whatsoever
state I am therewith to be content."
We shall find increasingly " how good it is." It is
good now in the depth of the soul, — in the conscious
assurance that it is better to rest in the hardest of God's
ways than to wander at will in our own. "Behold,
we count them happy who endure." We shall find it
good in the growth of all the Christian graces, under
the shadow  of patience.  Were we to gain every
blessing so soon as sought, the blessing itself would be
small, and we should gain nothing more. But now,
while we patiently wait, faith becomes stronger, resignation sinks into a deeper attitude of reverence, gentleness and meekness are clothed with softer beauty,
and courage and fortitude, and all the stronger powers
of the soul, arouse themselves and put on armor "to
endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ."
We shall find how good it is in the enhancement of
every blessing for which we have to wait. God's plan of
providing blessings for us is to educate the capacity
which is to receive them.  We are straitened in ourselves, and must be kept waiting till our minds and
hearts enlarge. "Ye have need of patience, that
after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive
the promise." Between your use of all the means and




426            HOPE AND PATIENCE.
the result which you desire there is still a gulf of separation, on the brink of which patience must sit and
look across, waiting God's time and way to pass it.
And when patience has her perfect work "ye shall be
perfect and entire, wanting nothing" (James i. 4).
Then the result will come, - the full blessing you desire, or something better. And, at the close of all, the
pilgrims are kept resting on the river's bank, in view
of the celestial city, till the Lord send his message for
them to cross the stream. If they have a right heart
it will be growing larger while they wait, and the provisions of the home will enlarge to meet it, for while
they are waiting Christ is working to prepare the place.
" Be patient, therefore, brethren, unto the coming of
the Lord."
Of all the motives to hopeful endurance, surely this
last is not the smallest, that He who lays the duty upon
us has Himself given the example of it. He asks nothing from us that he has not done for us, and done by a
harder road, and with a heavier burden. If there are
some of us who have not begun to think of the " salvation of the Lord" in any way, let us turn the eye to
Him who did so much to bring it within our view and
reacll. The only recompense we can make Him is to
seek to be part of his joy and crown. And if we have
begun the course which, with all its struggles, is a
happy and a hopeful one, let us keep the eye fixed on
Him who is our Surety, our Forerunner, and our Prize,
and " let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of
our faith; who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down
at the right hand of the throne of God."




XXIV.
)he!ternaJl uturt    tar  anlg in  1hrst.' It doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we know that,
when He (Christ) shall appear, we shall be like Him; for we
shall see Him as He is." —I JOHN iii. 2.
HE apostle admits that there is obscurity hanging over much of our eternal future.  He
glances at this part slightly, but it is the
background of that one light-scene to which He afterwards points. "It doth not appear," — that is, it is
not clear, —" what we shall be." This is about the
height to which Gentile wisdom could reach. It might
say in a hesitating tone, " We shall be," but it had to
add, as the sum  of its knowledge, "it is not clear
what." The gospel, though it can say much more,
suffers these words to remain, and, if you consider for
a moment, you will see of how many things God's
revelation still leaves us ignorant.
The first step of the soul into another state of being
is a mystery. No doubt it continues conscious, and
its conscious existence, in the case of God's children, is
most blessed: "' To depart and to be with Christ is far
better." But the existence of the soul separate from




428            THE ETERNAL FUTURE
the body, and from all material organs, is incomprehensible.
The place of our future life is obscure. How there
can be relation to place without a body we do not know,
and even when the body is restored, we cannot tell the
locality of the resurrection-world. Nothing in reason
and nothing certain in revelation, connects it with any
one spot in God's universe. It may be away from
earth, in some central kingdom, the glittering confines
of which we can perceive in thick-sown stars, that are
the pavement of the land which has its dust of gold.
It may be, as our hearts would rather suggest, in this
world, renewed and glorified - a world sacred as the
scene of Christ's sufferings, and endeared to us as
the cradle of our immortal life. Or, that great world,
Heaven- the heaven of heavens- may gather many
worlds around this one as the centre of God's most
godlike work - may enclose the new and old, the near
and far, in its wide embrace. "It doth not yet appear."
The outward manner of our final existence is also
uncertain. That it will be blessed and glorious, freed
from all that can hurt or annoy, we may well believe.
That it will be proportioned to the future material
frame, we may reasonably infer. We may calculate
that, in the degree in which the incorruptible and immortal body shall excel the body of sin and death, our
final home, with its scenes of beauty and grandeur, its
landscapes and skies, shall surpass our dwelling-place
on this earth. There is a measure in the works of God
on which we can reckon, both in the patterns of things
in the heavens, and in the heavenly things themselves.




CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.           429
But then we want the first step for our calculation, in
the ignorance of the nature and properties of the resurrection-frame. Whether we may possess merely our
present faculties, enlarged and strengthened, as a
child's mind expands into a man's, or whether new
faculties of perception may not be made to spring forth,
as if sight were given to a blind man, we find it impossible to affirm. Conjecture on some of these points
may be lawful, — for a certain class of minds it may
be unavoidable, but it should be touched always lightly,
ready to be surrendered for the better things in store,
and with this saying of the apostle written over it, " It
doth not yet appear."
Many of the modes of thought and feeling, in that life
to come, perplex us. The great laws of mind and spirit
must remain the same, because in them we are formed
after the image of God. Iin these we are his offspring,
and draw not simply from his will, but from his nature.
Truth must for ever continue truth, and goodness
eternally commend itself to the soul, else our training
for the future life would be valueless, and our confidence in the reality of things shaken. We can never
admit that the perceptions of the spiritual world will
be reversed or essentially altered. But there may be
large modifications, through the extension and elevation of our thoughts. We shall see the same spiritual
objects, but from other positions, and with higher powers of judging. How far this may affect our views we
cannot say. Can we think of any solution to the questions which sometimes torment our mlnds, - of foreordination and free-will, of the entrance of moral evil
into God's world, and its terrible effects; and, if we




430            THE ETERNAL FUTURE
are never to gain a solution of these things, can we
understand how our thoughts will attain repose? We
cannot comprehend how the heart will remain tenderly
human, and yet not be pained about things the very
fear of which now tears it in sunder- how it will be
able to carry in it some of our earthly memories, without a burning blush and an ineradicable sting. Every
one of us is beset with his own particular doubts and
fears, when we try to take the survey, but we all have
them in some form, and they belong of necessity to
our present position. We feel the temptation irresistible, at times, to venture within the vail, and penetrate
into the conditions of our future being. But we are
soon compelled to return. The atmosphere is too subtle, the azure is deep even to darkness, and from every
endeavor we must come back to realize the lesson of
our present state, that while Christians are now the
sons of God, the heir is but a child.
It would be unsatisfactory enough if this were all
that could be said and done. But the apostle puts this
dark background upon the canvas, that he may set in
relief a central scene and figure — Christ and our
relation to Him. "When Christ shall appear, we
shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is."
It matters little, the apostle says, what may be our
ignorance about other things, what doubts may agitate
us, what darkness lie on the edge of our horizon, if we
can abide in the centre with this great Enlightener.
He casts his illumination upon our future destiny as
well as upon our present duty. There are three things
promised us which are all connected with each other:
- Christ's manifestation   " He shall appear." A full




CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.           431
vision on our part —"We shall see Him as He is."
And complete assimilation as the result -" We shall be
like Him."  We shall take these in their order.
I. The first thing promised is THE MANIFESTATION OF
CHRIST — " Christ shall appear." It is not merely that
Christ shall be seen, but seen as never before. The
word used is the same as that already employed. " It
is not manifest what we shall be, but Christ shall be
made manifest."  The simplest, and, at the same time,
the most comprehensive way of thinking of this manifestation of Christ is'to take as our guide the twofold nature which makes Him a revelation to us in
this world —his humanity and his divinity -and we
shall attempt to keep these in view throughout the
entire subject.
The first thought of the apostle was no doubt the
human nature of Christ as appearing again to the eyes
of his friends. He left with that nature, and promised
so to return.' I will see you again, and your heart
shall rejoice." The angels who appeared at his ascension comforted his disciples with the words, "Ye men
of Galilee, this same Jesus who is taken up from you
into heaven shall so come in like manner as ye have
seen Him go into heaven." It may be a subject of
endless and most consoling thought to us to go over
the whole history of his earthly life, and feel that it is
not an eternally vanished thing. His first disciples
are not to be the only favored men who ever saw
Christ after the flesh. They will regain the view they
lost, and we, if we are of them who love his appearing,
shall share it with them. All the personal life which




432            THE ETERNAL FUTURE
He lived with them in friendship, so close and tender,
- in the house and by the way,- beside the lake and
among the hills of Galilee, - amid the shades of Bethany and in the upper chamber at Jerusalem, - shall
be renewed again.  "They shall walk with Him in
white; they shall follow the Lamb whithersoever He
goeth." It is true that there will be a great difference
in many things. The Jerusalem  above, golden and
glorious, with the temple where they serve Him day
and night, shall be something else than that where He
endured the contradiction of sinners against Himself.
The home of Bethany, where, if anywhere on earth, the
love of the family which gathers round Christ was felt,
is a very distant figure of the Father's house of many
mansions; and the goodly land of Canaan flowing with
milk and honey, could have no glory, at its best, compared with the better country when that promise is
fulfilled, -  "Thine eyes shall see the King in his
beauty; they shall behold the land that is very far
off."
But this difference of circumstance and scene shall
not make any difference in the true human nature of
Christ. The disciple whom Jesus loved, who lay on
his breast, did not expect to find it so. That nature
will be changed no doubt, but not in being made less
human. The likeness of sinful flesh will be removedthe marred visage and form of suffering, - but the look
that turned on Peter - the face that rejoiced in that
hour when He said, " I thank Thee, O Father, Lord of
heaven and earth "- the hands that blessed the children, — these shall remain, with all the soul of pity
that was in them, and the beating heart which went




CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.           433
forth through them. The only difference will be that
they shall appear. In this world they were hidden,
seen only by the few, seen obscurely, realized feebly;
but, when He is made man?,fest, they shall be the centre
and the sunlight of a ransomed world, the heritage of
an innumerable company, and yet each one, as if by
himself, shall have his view of, and portion in, the
true human fellowship of the Son of God.
In the manifestation of Christ, the apostle must have
thought also of his Divine nature. The evangelist
John, beyond all the other sacred writers, delights to
dwell on the conception that our human nature became
the tabernacle of God, that He might dwell with men,
and make them his people, and be their God. It was
an incarnation in which the heart of God reached the
most distant part of his spiritual creation, - a descent
in which infinite greatness takes the deepest form of
condescension, and infinite goodness the tenderest form
of compassion.  When a man's spirit has been opened
to it, it reveals to him  a universe of love, at the
summit and base of which are Divine majesty and
human misery, and the incarnate Son of God is seen
touching both and bringing them  together.  This
universe is its own witness to the man who has begun
to live in it, and he who has not is still stumbling
among graves, on which all the stars of the sky do
not cast a ray of hope. "God is the LORD, who hath
showed us light."
His first appearance in this nature was dim and
overcast, both for the sake of the weak vision of fallen
humanity; and because suffering and sacrifice were
necessary for the work He had to perform. Before He
23




434            THE ETERNAL FUTURE
could raise, He needed to redeem. When He became
man " He emptied Himself" of hlis Divinity, as far as
this was possible, - gathered the attributes of the
Infinite within the limits of the finite, and shut up the
rays of his uncreated glory in the likeness of sinful
flesh. This very hiding, indeed, was a manifestation,
but it was a manifestation to faith. The world did not
recognize Him, and even his own had but a presentiment of the fulness of the Godhead which dwelt in Him
bodily. The glimpses to the eye of sense were partial
and momentary. They were given to the few, at rare
and broken intervals, as in his miraculous interpositions - in his transfiguration — his appearance to
dying Stephen, and to John in Patmos.
When He shall appear there may be expected a clear
manifestation of the Divine nature through the human.
It will not be necessary for him to " hold back the face
of his throne, and spread his cloud upon it."  The
glory that He had with the Father before the world
was shall be resumed, and, if we may venture to say it,
raised, — for the glory of the Divine shall have added
to it the grace of the human. The majesty, the power
and wisdom  which belong to Him  as the Son of
God, shall go forth unrestrained, in union with the
tenderness and sympathy which fill his heart as the
Son of Man. Every one who sees Him in that appearance will be able to take up the words in a higher
sense than at first: "He dwelt among us, and we
beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of
the Father, full of grace and truth."
II. The second thing promised at the appearance of




CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.         435
Christ is a FULL VISION ON OUR PART: WC We shall see
Him as He is."
This implies a necessary and very great change on
us, before we can bear and embrace, even in the smallest measure, the perfect manifestation of Christ. We
may know something of the change by thinking of that
twofold view of Christ of which we have spoken. The
bodily frame of man must be fitted for the vision of
Christ's glorified human nature, and man's soul fitted
to understand more of the Godhead in Him.
There must certainly be a change in our material
frame before we can sustain the view of Christ's
exalted humanity. Some degree of affinity is necessary
before there can be any fellowship. When Christ
dwelt on earth in his body of weakness, his human
friends could hold intercourse with Him. But so soon
as He assumed his glorified form, He left them, and
carried on his communication by his Spirit in their
souls. When, on rare occasions, He withdrew the
curtain and showed his glory, or (shall we not say?)
a part of his glory, to one or two of his friends, we can
perceive why it is that meanwhile He remains out of
view. Stephen could look on Him only in death, and
had his soul absorbed by the vision; Paul knew not
whether lie was in the body or out of the body, and
John fell at his feet as dead. When men are brought
to see Him as He is, the far more exceeding and eternal
weight of glory would crush them to the dust, without
that change which will make their bodies incorruptible
and glorious as his own.
With this change on the body, there must be a
corresponding one upon the soul, before there can




436            THE ETERNAL FUTURE
be the full vision of Christ. If we were allowed to
conjecture, we might suppose that this education is
part of the history of souls in the separate state. The
body can rise at once to its highest perfection, but the
law of spirit is that of advance by slow degrees. Freed
from sin at its first entrance into Christ's presence,
it may be gradually growing under his instruction, in
the knowledge and experience which shall qualify it
for union with the glorified body, and for those scenes
of surpassing splendor and awe which await it in
the resurrection-world. There may be a training going
forward which shall make the great day of the Lord
only the natural close in a long advance. If we think
of such movements now within the vail, it may help us
to account for what we reckon premature departure
from this life. There is another world, of vaster
thoughts and activities, which is making ready for the
final coming of Christ. There are employments in that
world for those whom we deplore. It is consolatory,
also, to think that the great day shall not startle the
blessed dead, if we may so speak of them, with affright.
It shall dawn to them as the summer sun dawns. But
however the preparation takes place, we may be confident that the soul's vision will be at last perfectly
fitted to its object -" Christ as He is."
It will be a vision free from all sin in the soul.
This will make it free from error, and from the doubt
which has pain with it. It will be free friom partiality
- from that fruitful source of misconception and division, taking a portion of Christ and his truth for the
whole. It will be a vision intense and vivid, not coldly
outlined by the understanding, but veined and colored




CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.          437
by the heart - a sight in which the soul goes out to
rejoice with a joy that is unspeakable and full of glory.
And it will be a vision close and intimate. They shall
gain their knowledge of God and Christ by quicker
processes and shorter paths than here we do. Our
views of Christ in this world are often cold and unimpressive, because we have to reason them  out and
justify them to our judgment before we can take the
comfort of them to our heart. We think so much before we feel, that we are chilled even when we are convinced. We hold Christ questioning at the door till
his locks are wet with the dews of the night; and when
we do admit Him, we scarcely feel warmth from his
presence. Yet even here, there are times when his
gospel will start up with sudden self-illumination, —
when his Divine life makes itself so felt within that it
gives the key to many a mystery, overpowers many a
doubt, and makes us know something of the meaning
of the eagle-eyed evangelist, —" In Him is life, and
the life is the light of men."  These occasions, rare
and brief, are premonitions of the opening of an inward
eye which shall see truth more closely, when faith shall
pass over into sight, and reason deepen into insight.
It is not that we shall receive all truth by intuition, or
by ecstatic vision, as some suppose, for if reason be a
true part of our nature, it must have endless room for
exercise. But close and instant vision of the truththe eyesight of the spirit — shall belong more to our
nature than it does here, and it will prevail above all
when we look on Christ. The divine realities which
lie behind the material face of things, and of which we
have now only glimmerings, shall be seen steadfastly




438            THE ETERNAL FUTURE
and perfectly when we see the Divine in Him. How
clear and close the vision must be when his promise is
fulfilled, -" In that day ye shall know that I am in
the Father, and ye in Me, and I in you. I in them,
and Thou in Me, that they may be made perfect in
one."
III. The third thing promised is, COMPLETE ASSIMILATION TO CHRIST: s "We shall be like Him."
The way in which it is to be accomplished is told us,
- "for we shall see Him as He is." It is the perfect
view of Christ which gives perfect likeness to Him.
To look on one we love brings a measure of similitude,
and looking on Christ, even here, however dimly we
may see Him, produces a degree of likeness. " Every
man that hath this hope in him, purifieth himself, even
as He is pure." It advances in the world of spirits,
in the growth of knowledge and love. But it is when
Christ appears that the last great step is taken. However pure and happy may be the state of separate spirits, the Scripture teaches us that it is incomplete, and
that they, as well as the whole creation, " wait for the
manifestation of the sons of God." When Christ appears in his complete nature, He becomes the model
to whom they are conformed, body as well as soul. It
is by letting our thoughts dwell on this that the future
of our eternal history becomes less obscure to us.
Taking the order we have hitherto observed, we may
think first of our material frame. It will be made like
to Christ's glorious body. This assures us that we
shall have eternal relations to God's material universe.
It fixes a central home for our nature -we shall be




CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.           439
where Christ is. It makes us feel that there will be a
fitness in our frame for our future dwelling-place. All
that world forms itself into a harmony with Christ, and
when we are like Him we shall be in harmony with it.
It is not merely that Christ arranges for this by his
omnipotent power put forth on us, but by a Divine life
working in us. There is a view of the resurrectionworld which sees it all as fashioned from without, as
called into shape by Christ's voice, - even as a new
world is called into being by the voice and look of
spring summoning the dead seeds into life through its
breezes and its sunshine. This is a true view, but
there is still another way of looking at the resurrection-world - as taking its shape from within, from the
Spirit of Christ rising up through it, - even as there
is a consentaneous wakening of the dead seed to meet
the voice of spring heard overhead. There is a voice
from beneath to respond to the voice above -" Thou
shalt call and I will answer."  It is the great law of
God's world that where there is life there will in due
time be a full and a fitting form for it, and when Christ
has breathed into a soul his own divine life, it cannot
rest until it has gained its perfect shape. It is to this
that such a passage seems to point,'" But if the Spirit
of Him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwell in
you, He that raised up Christ from the dead shall also
quicken your mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwelleth
in you " (Rom. viii. 11).
In this world already we can see a dim foreshadowing of it. Man's material frame is adapted to his inward nature. His upward look and speaking eye are
the outlet of his soul. As the soul grows nobler it




440            THE ETERNAL FUTURE
lets itself be seen more distinctly, even through features
that have sprung from the dust of the ground. It thins
and makes transparent evermore its walls of clay.
There is a struggle of the inner life to assimilate the
outer form to itself, which is prophetic of something
coming. Above all, spiritual life will have its shape
befitting it. Stephen's face, "like an angel's," was
the natural blossom of his soul's life coming out in
him before the common spring-time. He saw Christ
sooner - that was all - and though death nipped the
bloom for the moment, it shows us what shall be. The
seeds of the earth struggle up every year, and represent
in form and color the separate thoughts of divine beauty
and kindness with which they are charged, and there
is such a time coming for higher and more divine
germs. Every soul shall take its own special image
according to the grace that is in it. And yet, varied
as they are, they shall have a common likeness, for
they shall all be conformed to the one great Exemplar
and Model, as the flowers that look up to the sun
round themselves into the image of his orb, while each
one borrows out of his beams some distinguishing
hue of its own.
When the material frame is made like Christ's it indicates to us something not only of the forms of the
future life, but of its active employments. The body
in this present world serves two great purposes. It
lets in God's external creation, with all its lessons of
knowledge, upon the soul; and it gives the soul power
to go forth and imprint upon God's creation its own
thoughts and volitions. When the Bible assures us
that a body shall still be associated with man's soul, it




CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.          441
leads us to infer that God's material universe will be
open to him in all its teachings; and that he will be
able to impress it in some way with the marks of his
own mind and will. Only it will be after a higher
manner. The lordship of man over creation, which
was granted him at first, will be heightened when it is
restored through Christ (Heb. ii. 7). His redeemed
shall be employed in studying God's works and ways,
and in carrying out God's purposes in them. Through
Him that loved them they shall be made kings and
priests unto God, even his Father - kings and priests,
living a life of royal dominion, that shall be one also
of pure and blessed service, where power shall seek
only the fulfilment of God's will and the welfare of his
universe.
Besides the assimilation of the material frame, we
cannot forget that there will be a likeness of the spiritual nature. This thought has been underlying all that
we have said. The source of heaven's blessedness and
power is the likeness of the soul to Christ. He is the
image of the unseen Father, who has taken the copy
from the Divine side, and transferred it to the human
for our example. He has removed by his life and
death all the guilt which barred our way to God, and
He has secured all the Spirit's power to make that image ours. Slowly we are drawn to his image here by
the cords of love, as they strengthen their hold on us;
but the image at best remains incomplete and dim.
When He shall appear " we shall see his face, and his
name shall be on our foreheads." It shall be deeper
— in our souls; and all of God's truth and grace that
can be communicated to a creature shall enter into the




442           -THE ETERNAL FUTURE
depth of the spiritual nature through Christ. If the
active soul finds scope for work in God's material universe, the Mary-like spirit which delights to sit at the
feet of Christ and hear his word, shall have unrebuked
leisure in the heavenly home. We may trust that in
some way the sisters, Service and Meditation, will interchange gifts, and be perfectly at one when they reach
his higher presence.
Access to the person of Christ shall then give the
most direct access to God Himself. Christ's heart
shall be in the world of the soul what his glorified
nature is in the material creation- a resting-place for
thought, -a central home where we touch and embrace the personality of Him who is infinite. It is the
hold of Christ now by faith that is to save man from
that terrible spectre which broods over some, an infinite force without an infinite Father; and it is in the
presence of Christ that throughout eternity God's fatherhood will be seen and felt as in its inmost shrine.
The soul will feel here that God is, and is its own, and
rise evermore to understand a higher sense in the
words, " heirs of God, and joint heirs with Christ."
In this progress into a fuller knowledge and possession
of God, Christ shall be the guide. They have set the
Lord ever before them, and they shall follow Him
whithersoever He goeth. He came from the infinite
into the finite, not only that He might save his lost
heritage, but that He might conduct God's children up
through the finite into the infinite for ever. He is the
"first-born of every creature" (Col. i. 15), — the
"Prince of the whole creation,"   who has placed
Himself at its head, and is leading it up to God, in




CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.          443
whom alone it can find its end and its joy. Yet let us
never forget the view of Him which belongs to our
world, and which must send its strengthening and
reviving look through all the holy universe of God.
He leads up God's creation with the voice of mercy on
his lips, with the memory of suffering in his heart; and
the front ranks of his innumerable army raise their
song, " Unto Him that loved us, and washed us from
our sins in his own blood, be glory for ever." We
thank God, even the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,
that it is his purpose that his restored and unfallen
children should not only rise into the brighter light of
his face, but enter into the deeper love of his heart.
Grace no less than truth comes to us through Jesus
Christ. The Lamb in the midst of the throne shall
lead them not only to the " great and high mountain"
whence the glory of God can be discerned, but to " the
fountains of living waters," - to the everlasting springs
in the valleys which run among the hills. Here is the
heart of his revelation for us. Let our heart repose on
it. As our view of God and his universe widens, this
shall grow with it to dissipate every doubt and soothe
every fear. Here we see but a little bay of the great
ocean, and tremble when the throb of its tide strikes
our shore; but when we are on its full bosom we shall
be upborne by it, nay, rather, be upborne by Christ
himself, and possess in Him " the perfect love which
casts out fear." It is the glorious LORD who will be
unto us a " place of broad rivers and streams;" and,
with the infinite " depth of the riches both of his wisdom and knowledge," we shall feel that " neither height
nor depth shall be able to separate us from the love of
God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."




444           THE ETERNAL FUTURE
Augustine concludes an address to God in these
words, -" And what can any one say when he speaks
of Thee? Yet woe to those who are silent, since even
the most eloquent are dumb." The words are not less
fitted to express our feeling when we think of that eternity which has been called the lifetime of God, and
which, when shared with us, becomes our immortality.
Every single mind can but throw out its own ray,
which is so poor a guide for others, since it is felt to be
so scanty for ourselves. And scanty as it is, it is also
so shifting, -varying as the atmosphere of the soul
changes, and as the angle alters from which we take
our little view. Yet here we feel that we stand in the
true centre, — striving to look at it through Christ.
It is Christ the human and Divine who is to lead man's
soul to God, - and man's thoughts out of time into
eternity. The true knowledge of Him now contains
the germ of all we need to satisfy our nature. It
requires no change save expansion and perfection to
fit it for the eternal life.
We have pursued the order of presenting first the
human side of Christ, and then the Divine; but we
trust it has been made clear that the knowledge of
Christ comes to us through the soul-side in ourselves.
We must begin by knowing Him spiritually as the
source of paldon and purity, — commencing a new life
within, which goes forward, strengthening and rising,
--- a life of which heaven is not the reward, but the natural and necessary continuation. We cannot close so
great a subject without seeking to point out briefly why
God has chosen such a way for leading us on to a future
world.




CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.          445
First of all, God has used it as a means of spiritual
test and training. When man constructs a religion for
himself, the material side of tile future is made the
prominent or the exclusive one. In the Divine religion, the material side is not overlooked - for it also is
true,- but it is made the fitting attendant and shadow
of the spiritual, as the outward creation is the shadow
of God himself. Every thing about our future lies in
having our soul right. The gospel bears on it the
mark and sign-manual of the Father of spirits.
There is a test here which tries every man, whether
he will seek God for what He is, and not merely for
what He can give. God gives to the body, - He is to
the soul. He will not bribe us back to allegiance by
the promise of material benefits. This would be unworthy of Him, and hurtful to us, for it would only
strengthen that love of self which is the root of all sin.
That soul finds heaven which seeks God in it - to which
it would be no heaven if God were absent, — which
would search its many mansions as Mary sought
Christ's grave, and when it found not Him, would
stand without the door weeping, — " They have taken
away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid
Him."  "Whom have I in heaven but thee? "
The training for this is gradual, and can only come
through spiritual means. Do not be discouraged if
you have not the full feeling of it, but seek to have the
conviction that it is right you should have it, and
struggle evermore to rise to it. There is a balance of
forces in the works of God. Man's body is attached to
this earth by the power of gravitation, in such a way
that he can walk securely on the surface and yet look




446            THE ETERNAL FUTURE
upward. He is not dragged to the ground by its dead
power, nor is he ready to be driven from it by every
gust of wind. God has similarly proportioned the
forces of the world to come. They are not so strong
as to detach us from this world and its duties, and
yet, if we are open to their influences, they are strong
enough to prevent us cleaving to the dust. Here, too,
we may walk the world's surface while we have heaven
in view. There is this difference only, that into our
spiritual position our own choice enters; and as our
choice strengthens, our upward look is more decided,
and the higher world becomes more and more the one
to which we feel we finally belong.
In this way we become certain that there is a heaven,
and that we are on the road to it. The grand method
for being sure of the immortality of the soul is to be
sure that we have a soul, and this assurance is gained
by having a share of God's life in it. It is no wonder
that some doubt the soul's immortality when they make
so little of their soul, and neglect its true life, till not
a pulse-stroke of it can be felt. Let us not be tormented so much seeking proofs and repelling objections outside of us. Men need not say -" Lo here,
or lo there! for behold the kingdom of God is within
you." All arguments will never prove the future life
to a man in whom its hidden life is not stirring already;
but let a man have this, and his soul may come to such
a state that he shall feel there can be no place for it
but the bosom of God, and that he is as sure of reaching heaven as if he were already within the gate.
The next thing in this way of revealing the future is,
that it is a means of quieting our thoughts. There are




CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.         447
some minds which trouble themselves with the fear
lest their present life and its natural affections should
be irrecoverably lost in the future world. The place
and circumstances seem so indefinite, and must be so
different from the present, that they are tossed in uncertainty. Shall they meet their friends again so as
to know them, or shall they not be separated from
them by the vast expanses of that world, and by the
varied courses they may have to pursue? We may
have our thoughts about these things tranquillized, if
we bring them  into connection with Christ.  Our
eternal life'begins in union with Him, and it must for
ever so continue. If we are gathered round Him
in heaven, and know Him, and are known of Him,
this will insure acquaintance with one another. It is
strange that it could ever be made matter of doubt.
And when we think that He gave us human hearts
and took one into his own breast, —that He bestowed
on us human homes and affections, and solaced Himself with them, - we need not fear that He will deny
us our heart's wish, where it is natural and good.
Variety of pursuit and temperament need no more
separate us there than it does here, and his own name
for heaven, - the Father's house of many mansions, -
speaks of unity as well as diversity, of one home, one
roof, one paternal presence.
There are others to whom the thought of infinite
progress in an eternal life becomes an almost overpowering burden.  Though fired by the conception,
they feel giddy when they think of the heights to
which the soul may climb. The far-off goal stretches
for ever on, and our present position disappears in an




448            THE ETERNAL FUTURE
endless advance. It is then that the thought of Christ
may enter to give us repose, in eternity as now. The
farthest progress can never take us from his presence,
nor weaken the sense of his sympathy. When the
soul is wearied with thought, it is in sympathy that
it finds rest. There are times when this is the yearning cry of our nature, - rest, only rest, - and as John
on his Master's bosom, so every one shall find repose
of spirit there, the mystery being that it shall be for
every one, as God even now is an entire God to us all.
This presence of Christ through all the expanse of the
future will be like the ark of the covenant which
accompanied God's people through the wilderness,
and made it everywhere a safe and pleasant home. Possessed of this companionship, the centre of the soul's
repose will be perpetually near. " And He said, My
presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest.
And he said unto Him, If thy presence go not with me,
carry me not up hence" (Exod. xxxiii. 14).
The last thing in this revelation of the future is,
that it makes Christ the centre of the soul's affections and
aims. Darkness is left brooding, or shadows sent flitting over the great eternity, that Christ may stand
forth in the centre distinct and clear. God's heaven
is made to grow out of Christ, that Christians may not
have a single thought about it in which He is not
present. And it is presented thus, not only to Christians, but to all men, that when they are drawn or
compelled to think of the future, Christ may rise to
view with his words, " I am the way, and the truth,
and the life; no man cometh unto the Father but by
me," and " Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise




CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.          449
cast out." It is to assure them that the gate of
heaven is as wide as the outspread arms of Christ upon
his cross, which are his welcome to a whole guilty
world. Its unbarred and unlimited door is yearning
for the wandering and lost, as his heart did when He
wept over them, and sorrowfully reproached their own
impenitent will as the only obstacle, "Ye will not
come unto me that ye might have life."
There must come times when men think of these
things. The common eddies of life may wheel round
their own trifles, but the deep currents of the soul all
bear it to its deepest interests —to death and judgment, to God and life eternal. And when the powers
of the world come to lay their arrest on a man, when
time dwindles, when the soul whispers clear of its
nature and destiny, when eternity opens in its awful
proportions, it is God's purpose that there should
be no place left for a man to flee to but Christ. He
darkens all the sky save where He appears,- spreads
a vast trackless void around, and leaves the soul with
Christ alone. "Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou
hast the words of eternal life."
And when at last a man is forced to quit his hold of
all the known, and venture forth into that void, who
can give the soul a footing in the empty place, and
bring it safe to the shore of a new world? There is
but One. The ship is tossed until the morning watch,
but ther  can be no calm around, nor peace within,
till He appear. God has willed that morning should
break only at His coming, and calm fall in the track
of his footsteps. He who " made the seven stars and
Orion, who treadeth the waves of the sea " —who has
29




450 THE ETERNAL FUTURE CLEAR ONLY IN CHRIST.
his throne in the upper calm, and his feet on the lower
storms, —is still walking the waters of death for the
help of them who love his appearing. However dark
the sky, let us sweep it with earnest gaze till He is
seen. Nor shall we search in vain. The sky is obscured that He may come out in saving and more
bright relief.
The waters may rise even to the soul, the gloom of
death-shade gather over it, and the heart may so fail as
to cry out for fear in presence of the Deliverer. But
the ear that has learned to recognize his voice will
hear the words of the Son of Man, "It is I, be not
afraid,"- words that assure us of a kindred nature,
and a gracious purpose. Then shall we receive Him
gladly, and be immediately at that land whither we
are going,-" We shall behold his face in righteousness, and shall be satisfied when we awake with his
likeness."
Cambridge: Press of John Wilson and Son.