THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF ILLINOIS 
 LIBRARY 
 
 From the library of 
 Rev. William Murphy 
 Presented in 1924 
 
 232 
 
 P87l 
 
f 
 
 The person charging this material is re- 
 sponsible for its return to the library from 
 
 1 which it was withdrawn on or before the 
 
 1 Latest Date stamped below. 
 
 Theft/ mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons 
 for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from 
 the University. 
 
 To renew call Telephone Center, 333-8400 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 APR ^ 
 
 
 
 GO 
 
 L161— 0-1096 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive L/ 
 in 2017 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign Alternates 
 
 https://archive.org/details/iwillsofchristbeOOpowe 
 
THE 
 
 “3 tDill 0 ” of 
 
 BEING 
 
 € 1) r i 0 1 ; 
 
 THOUGHTS UPON SOME OF 
 
 THE PASSAGES IN WHICH THE WORDS “I WILL” ARE 
 USED BY THE LORD JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 BY 
 
 REY. PHILIP BENNETT ^OWER, M. A., 
 
 INCUMBENT OF CUEIST CHUECH, WORTHING ; 
 
 Author of “The ‘ I Wills* of the Psalms,” &c., &c. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS, 
 
 530 BROADWAY. 
 
 18 6 2 
 

a.ri^k ( 
 
 53a- 
 
 P87^ 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 HE following pages do not j^retend to exhaust 
 the subject of the I wills'' of Christ. Those 
 which are to be found in the messages to the 
 Churches in the commencement of the Eevela- 
 tion, and which are here left untouched^ would be 
 abundantly sufficient for a volume. The author has 
 taken but one here and there, and woven them to- 
 gether so as to present the reader with a picture of 
 the Lord's gracious work upon a soul. The book might 
 have been, with tolerable accuracy, entitled The his- 
 tory of a soul exemplified in the ^ I wills' of Christ." 
 We have the sinner presented to us as invited ; then 
 on his acceptance of the invitation, as being received ; 
 then as being healed ; then made a confessor of Christ ; 
 then a worker for Christ ; then as comforted of Christ 
 
 59o73(> 
 
IV 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 in life's struggles ; then as being placed loholly at 
 Christ’s disposal ; then as attaining to the highest of 
 all points of sanctification^ viz.^ the subjection of the 
 will ; and finally, as being received to glory to be with 
 Jesus where He is. 
 
 Experience has shown the author the great value 
 of illustration both in writing and preaching ; he has, 
 therefore, gathered together many facts with which to 
 illustrate the truths in the following pages. Some of 
 the extracts it was impossible to shorten, as by so 
 doing, the spiritual processes^ in which consist their 
 value, would have been lost ; they would have been 
 worthless if more condensed. Some of these extracts 
 have been printed in smaller type so as to save space. 
 
 Since this work was put to press, a volume has been 
 published on a kindred subject, principally on the ex- 
 pressions of the Divine will in the Old Testament. 
 The gifted authoress, and the writer of the following 
 pages were employed, unknown to each other, on a 
 similar task. The similarity between the volumes will 
 be found to be in idea, more than in the subjects se- 
 lected, or the method of their treatment ; they are 
 distinct branches of one common tree ; and may they 
 each be found to throw grateful shade, and bear pre- 
 cious fruit for weary, hungry souls. 
 
 The author is deeply thankful to Almighty Grod, for 
 the blessing which He has vouchsafed to very many of 
 the readers of his book, to which this is a companion. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 V 
 
 viz.5 The ^ I Wills' of the Psalms and he earnestly 
 prays that a like blessing may be vouchsafed to the 
 readers of this book. Having heard Christ's I will" 
 of invitation, may they hear also His I will" of glo- 
 rification, and finally be with Him forever, where He is. 
 
 Christ Church Parsonage, 
 
 Worthing^ December, 1861. 
 

 
 
 c" 
 
 
 s ' ' -aJ s'* V 
 
 s -ill 
 
 - ■ '.tfi -:ist ■' 
 
 . '-I- F 
 
 •'V- 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 “ Rest ” the great craving of the human heart — The class attracted 
 by Christ to himself for “ rest”— Adam’s unrest — Cain’s un- 
 rest — Steir’s remark on the laborers — A distinction between 
 ‘laborers” and “ heavy laden” — Laboring after justification — Lu- 
 ther’s laboring — Brainerd’s laboring — Simeon’s ditto — Hamilton’s 
 ditto — St. Augustine’s ditto — The Indian convert’s laboring — ■ 
 Revivalism — Need of spiritual discrimination — The processes of 
 the Spirit — The idiot boys who found Christ — A present salva- 
 tion —Laborers after sanctification — Sarah Martin — The sinner a 
 forgiven, illumined, and assaulted man — Work and rest in sancti- 
 fication — How work is set before the soul, even after reception 
 of Christ — The dangers of spiritual toil — The heav}^ laden — A 
 desperate offender — The earnestness of Christ claims earnestness 
 from us — Glorious results of embracing the invitation, 15 
 
 The multitudes in glory — Once desperate character of many of the 
 redeemed — Immense power of a simple text — Durham’s death- 
 bed testimony — Dr. Doddridge’s ditto — Baxter’s ditto — Rev, R. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Vlll 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Bruce’s ditto — Romaine’s ditto — The dying Indian — Christ’s 
 dealing with the individual — Consequences of “ casting out” — 
 
 The city of refuge — The position which an accepter of Christ’s 
 promise takes up — Satan’s use of the rejection of even a single 
 sinner — Legh Richmond’s dying testimony — “No ! No!” — Con- 
 siderations why Christ will not cast out the sinner — Christ’s feel- 
 ings — Common justice, the tenor of Christ’s life and death, the 
 accomplishment of the mind and will of God — Considerations 
 likely to deter a sinner; old slights to Christ — Present sinfulness 
 — Argument from Christ’s dealings with the body 15 
 
 Christ’s superiority over earthly friends, in His willingness to under- 
 take difficult tasks — The leper’s interview with Christ — The leper 
 throwing the onus of his cure on Christ — Touching Ills sympathies 
 — The sympathies of Christ in daily life — His sympathy at the 
 wedding at Cana of Galilee — The painful display of human infir- 
 mity made by the leper — Burdened life — Suffering life — Con- 
 scious misery — Dij,pla3^ of human infirmity — Conjunction of dark- 
 ness and light — The power of contrast on the mind of Christ — 
 Obligation on Christ’s mind, flowing out of His mission — Christ 
 never refused to help — Obligation, flowing from Christ’s very na- 
 ture — Obligation, flowing from previous acts — The power of pre- 
 cedents — The recognition of power in Christ — Peculiar power in 
 the word “ Thou” — Christ’s isolated position at the raising of 
 Lazarus — “If” — Mixture of good and evil in many “If’s” — Meas- 
 ure of attainment expressed in the leper’s “ If” — How to deal 
 with “ If ’s” — Majestic brevity of Christ’s answer — Christ’s readi- 
 ness to come to the point — The comprehensiveness of Christ’s 
 answer — Authoritative power in Christ's “ I will” — The leper’s 
 restoration — “ I,” “ Thou,” an epitome of the gospel 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 IX 
 
 '‘I ®U” of Coufjssioir. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The noble army of martyrs — The noble army of confessors — The 
 profession of Christianity no confession — Under what circum- 
 stances it would be — The sufferings of a confessing Jew — The 
 sphere of confession — Confession in society — “ The right kind of 
 Christian” — Tea-party confession — The praying soldier — Confes- 
 sion in the barrack-room — In the lodging house — Hedley Vicar’s 
 open Bible — Fuller’s shortcoming in family prayer — The confes- 
 sion of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego — Their coats, their 
 hosen, and their hats — Confession in trade, corporations, boards, 
 
 &c. — Politics — Our owm families — Family prayer — The godless 
 baronet — Hans Joachim Yon Ziethen and Frederick the Great — 
 Evening service given up for friends at dinner — Faulty account 
 books — Confessing Christ in household expenses — Y ariety in con- 
 fession — Confession by silence — Cecil’s advice to Mrs. Hawkes — 
 Power of silence exemplified in Madame Guyon — Our Lord’s si- 
 lence — Unmistakeable silence — Mrs. Ilawkes’s experience of 
 boldness for Christ — Scott, and the grand dinner — Seasons when 
 silence is impossible — Dr. Scudder’s rebuke to the blasphemer — 
 
 The sailor’s rebuke to the shipowner — Female confessors — A 
 woman’s victory over an infidel — Swearing in Hebrew — Suffering 
 in confession — Secret martyrdom — A husband given up for Christ 
 — Gopenath Nundy and Ensign Cheek’s confession in the Indian 
 mutiny — The stout squire Peter Paasch — The “ I will” of Christ — 
 
 The personality of Christ’s confession — The individual owning of 
 the confessor — The future triumph of individuals, as well as prin- 
 ciples — The personal confession of Christ, a ground of encourage- 
 ment — The future acknowledgment of confessors before the great 
 saints — Confession of the saints by an individual Christ — Entrance 
 of the personal element into the greatness of the reward — Value 
 to be attached to the omniscient and judicial power of Christ — ■ 
 
 The future prospect, an encouragement to confessors — Bishop 
 Hooper’s answer to Sir Anthony Kingston — The poorest relations 
 of Christ confessed 125 
 
X 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 %\t “ I Mill” 0f SerMft 
 
 ] 
 
 Christ’s use of homely images — The appointment of fishers of men 
 — The work of the fishers — The application of the conscious to 
 the unconscious element — The sphere of human fishing — Testi- 
 mony of a city missionary to encouragement in fishing — Courage 
 in launching out into the deep — The Bible distributor amongst 
 robbers — The city missionary amongst ditto — The tradition of St. 
 John and the robber — Uncouth fish — Henry Martyn’s despair of 
 seeing even one converted Brahmin — An unlikely fishing ground 
 — Success in ditto — Faith in fishing — Discouragement in ditto — 
 The nailed pulpit — The closed church — A strange parish notice — 
 Scott at the Lock hospital — The laboriousness of fishing — Aggres- 
 sion the duty of the church — Aggressive nature of modern relig- 
 ious societies — Religious service in the theatre — Tossings to and 
 fro — The labor of earth’s pursuits — Louis Marie, the Montreal col- 
 porteur — Patience and perseverance required in fishing — The man 
 for whom there was no escape — Simeon and Henry Martyn’s pic- 
 ture — ^Polly Long— Stockings — The Shoreditch stall-keeper— Valu- 
 ing fish — The appliances of fishing — Skill in the use of the net 
 Street-door words — Noah’s carpenters — “ What is that to you ?” 
 — Power of one remark at a dinner — Conversion of Merle D’Au- 
 bigne — A mathematical question — Conversion of La Combe 
 through Madame Guy on — Conversion of Dr. Wilson, bishop of 
 Calcutta — A good return for a glass of water — The woman who 
 kept out of the way — The man going for the fiddler — Good books 
 — Examples of their value — Bunyan and “Luther’s Commentary 
 on the Galatians” — Col. Gardiner and “Watson’s Christian Sol- 
 dier, or Heaven taken by storm” — The young lady and the hymn 
 book ; and the depraved woman and the hymn book — The seaman 
 and “ Henry and his Bearer” — The sparkish gentleman and “Fla- 
 vel on keeping the heart” — Joseph Periam sent to Bedlam through 
 reading Whitfield’s sermon on regeneration — Lending books — 
 Tract distribution — Tracts in out-of-the-way places — Timidity in 
 tract distributing — The tract by the way-side — The dying stu- 
 dent’s coat— The appearance of tracts— What does the almanac say ? 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XI 
 
 PAGK 
 
 — Sermons — Cecil’s directions to Daniel Wilson — Daniel O’Con- 
 nell and acts of parliament — Wide-meshed sermons — The Dishop 
 and the actor — Market language — The old woman’s rebuke — The 
 law needle and gospel thread — Visits — The visit to the public- 
 house — Mending nets — Importance of this subject in the present 
 day — Preparation, prayer, reflection — Cecil’s remarks upon retire- 
 ment — The reward of the fishers — The funeral of the city mis- 
 s'onarj’", the fisher of men 193 
 
 Conjunction of ‘‘I will not” and “I will” — The loss of Christ, the 
 loss of all — The condition of the disciples if left headless — The 
 subtraction of the great object of life — Christ’s power of substitu- 
 tion — The helpless condition of deserted disciples — The relation 
 of orphaned disciples to the Lord personally — Christ’s obligation 
 to care for His disciples — Hewitson’s testimony of Christ’s faith- 
 fulness — Ditto, testimony to a college friend — Three hundred and 
 sixty-five religions — Compensating power of the love of Christ — 
 Adelaide Newton’s testimony to a schoolfellow — Mr. Hawkes’s 
 testimony about worldly visiting — The upward and the onward 
 struggle — Old and new affinities — Beneficial effects of Christ’s re- 
 turn to His disciples — Removal of great loneliness — Christ an eter- 
 nal source of comfort — Heavenly comfort and earthly discomfort, 
 instance of — “ Confused in the flittin” — The great object in life — 
 Serving a personal Christ — Privileged believers subject to sorrow 
 — Imperfect apprehension of the truth — The great cure of the 
 troubled soul — Troubles of those who have companied long with 
 Christ — Unaccustomed manifestations — Universal sorrow — The 
 solution of trouble — A glorified Christ in union with his people on 
 earth — Christ’s memory — Memory exercised in priesthood — The 
 passage of Christ’s body through death, an argument of peace 
 — Steir’s remarks — No peace to the Christless — God’s people not 
 isolated — A substantial Christ — Christ’s presence in the solitary 
 barrack-room 279 
 
xn 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 ®I]e ‘‘I Mill" 0f iispssL 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Discipleship arid education — Christ the sovereign disposer of disci- 
 ples — Man not to trouble himself about the arrangements of his 
 Lord — Evils consequent on not recognizing Christ’s arrangements 
 — Disciples to mind their own business — The loss of concentra- 
 tion — Turning and stoppings — Christ’s answers sometimes very 
 different to man’s expectations — Peter’s shepherding and martyr- 
 dom — The will of Christ manifested in a comparatively unevent- 
 ful career — N’o career really uneventful — The eventfulness of still 
 life — The rejection of turning points in life — The will of God to 
 be discerned apart from man’s activities — The unexpected devel- 
 opment of spiritual antecedents — John’s antecedents — Examples 
 — Love needed in waiting — John as a “waiter” in connection with 
 Christ — Directions of concentration — The important question. . . 311 
 
 Wonderful sights consequent on unveiling the spiritual world — 
 Great conflicts with the evil will — An amount of spiritual attain- 
 ment possible, without much sanctification of the will — Christ’s a 
 true human will — A perfect human will — Scripture indications of 
 the perfection of Christ’s will — The divine will His nourishment — 
 Conversation with the Samaritan woman — Nourisliment of Christ’s 
 will — The immense importance of a holy life — Christ’s holy will 
 seen in His pursuit in life — The Divine will in connection with 
 the affections of Christ — Ditto in connection with the Saviour’s 
 joy — Christ’s will in natural action in Gethsemane — Bishop Hall 
 on Christ’s agony — Christ’s will in sinless action — Human shrink- 
 ings— Christ’s human will apart from the Father’s will — Peter’s 
 interference with the will of Christ — Christ’s retention of human 
 shrinkings with a determined will — The importance of Gethsemane 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Xlll 
 
 PAGE 
 
 — The natural condition of man’s will — Charnock on disowning 
 God’s will — Man sinning out of an ingrained evil will — Charnock 
 on the gross rebellion of the human will — Jesus delivered by Pi- 
 late to man’s will — The activity of man’s evil will in hell — The 
 condition of man’s will during the process of sanctification — Pro- 
 gressive change of will — Satan’s use of this progression — Apathy 
 not sanctification of the will — Misuse of the word “ resignation” 
 
 — The harmony of the human will essential to God’s glory — Ad- 
 vantages of a sanctified will — Eemoval of the rebellious element 
 of antagonism — Diminished cause for chastening discipline — In- 
 structive discipline — The discipline of the will — The will under 
 various changes of providential arrangement — Mrs. Pletcher, of 
 Madeley — Madame Guyon — Calmness of mind in petty circum- 
 stances — The will restrained from interference with the judgment 
 — Sanctification of the will productive of personal happiness. . . . 331 
 
 The preciousness of family gatherings — Solemn thoughts connected 
 with them — The family gathering of the redeemed — Efforts now 
 being made therefore — The prominent position which this “ I 
 will” occupied in the mind of Christ — Jesus, a man of the future 
 as well as the present — The future of Christ’s people before Him 
 in what He did and suffered, and in sending the Spirit — The place 
 which this will occupied as regards Christ’s personal feeling — 
 Christ’s interest that His people should get the best — His enjoy- 
 ment bound up with His people — His people’s enjoyment bound 
 up with Him — Christ’s connection with His people, not merely 
 temporal but eternal — The difference between the Divine and 
 earthly relationships — The desolation of separations — Of death — 
 Of the departure of friends — Of marriages — No separations 
 amongst the redeemed — The common beatific vision — The activi- 
 ties of the redeemed — The beholding Christ’s glorj^— Beholding 
 with interest — Devils may know something of Christ’s glory — 
 
XIV 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The earthly and the heavenly conquerors — Beholding with com- 
 prehension — Ditto with personal interest — Revelations of wisdom, 
 endurance, triumph — Closeness of vision — Difference between the 
 pleasures and pursuits of Christ’s people and the w^orld’s — Dr. 
 Owen’s dying testimony — Rev. John Brown’s ditto — Rev. Row’- 
 land Hill’s ditto — Conclusion 371 
 
 Appendix 393 
 
'' I ®HI " of InbfitatioiT* 
 
 Matthew xi. 28-30, 
 

 i 
 
 I 
 
Matthew xi., 28-30. 
 
 ‘‘ Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give 
 you rest.” 
 
 EST Best ! this weary world, and all 
 therein, are seeking rest ! It may he that men 
 little know what their hearts, in deepest truth, 
 are craving, hut in all cases, it is Best. 
 
 For rest, the warrior draws his sword — for rest, the 
 merchant toils behind his desk ; for rest, the sailor 
 ploughs the waves — for rest, the shepherd tarries by his 
 flock ; for rest, the young man mingles in the dance — 
 for rest, the widow weeps in misery alone ; the heart 
 is full of craving ; and hither and thither does it turn 
 
 for rest. 'T is true, heart-cravings are not alike in all ; 
 this one seeks rest in honor, and this in wealth ; this 
 in love, and this in hate ; some would find it in grasp- 
 ing all things, and some only in being let alone ; but 
 so it is, that ever since man departed from his God, 
 whether he be found in solitude or in a crowd, probe 
 to the very bottom of his heart-longings and exertions, 
 and he will be found to be in pursuit of rest. 
 
18 THE *1 WILL” OF INVITATION, 
 
 And where will he find it ? It is a part of earth's 
 cursCj tliat in some form or other it is ever claitning the 
 sweat of the hrow^ throwing forth thorns and thistles^ 
 and that it can afford to man no rest. Arise ye and 
 depart^ for this is not your rest/'' is the voice which 
 flowers and fruity as well as thistle and thorn have for 
 all the sons of men. In us/' say all created things^ 
 
 when used, even to the uttermost, man finds no abiding 
 rest. There remainetli a rest for the of God” 
 
 And for tlieiiij there is also a present rest ; amid earth’s 
 turmoil, the shaking of its thrones, and principalities, 
 and powers, there appears one with soft and gentle voice 
 and look, avIio proclaims Himself a king — the prince of 
 jieace — the giver of rest to all who will be the subjects 
 of His kingdom, which was not of this world, but from 
 above. Oh, let it be observed how distinctly Jesus 
 declared that his kingdom was not of this Avorld, for 
 that if it were, then would his servants have fought. 
 It Avould have been easy for Him to muster under His 
 banner all the J ews from Dan even unto Beersheba ; 
 and the history of the siege of Jerusalem shows us, how 
 desperately they would have fought. Had Jesus under- 
 taken at that time to restore the kingdom unto Israel ; 
 and had He been willing to assume the headship of 
 it to Himself, the country would have rushed to arms, 
 and there is little doubt but that it would have been 
 freed. 
 
 This repudiation of earthly sovereignty we find all 
 through the life of Christ, and incidentally it comes 
 before us here. 
 
 Had Jesus been an earthly Sovereign, about to set 
 up an earthly kingdom, and an earthly court. He would 
 
19 
 
 THE '-I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 have attracted to Himself such as would have conduced 
 to His earthly honor, to His profit, to the stability of 
 His throne. The monarchs of this world try to attract to 
 their courts those who are famous for learning, wisdom, 
 and art ; they like to be surrounded by the influential 
 and the rich ; but the blessed Jesus tried to attract to 
 Himself the wretched, the outcast, and the sad ; from 
 such were to be drawn the noblest courtiers for a spirit- 
 ual throne. This is Avhat we find Jesus doing here ; 
 yea, this is what He is doing even now ; still saying, as 
 He did of old, Come unto me, all ye that labor and are 
 heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'' Christ proposes 
 Himself as an object of attraction now ; He will be one 
 of repulsion hereafter, when he utters those tremendous 
 words, Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared 
 for the devil and his angels." It is an awful thought ; He 
 must necessarily be so ; there is no such thing as Christ's 
 mere toleration of any one hereafter ; the mighty power 
 that is in Him must act ; those who rejected Him, and 
 would not be drawn by Him, shall not be able to abide 
 with him ; Christ must then exercise a throwing-off‘ 
 power ; it will be no longer, Come unto me all ye that 
 laborandare heavy laden;" but, ^^Depart into thcland of 
 unrest forever, to labor, and to be heavy laden evermore." 
 
 May no reader of this book ever hear such words as 
 those ; rather may each have rest in Jesus here ; and 
 finally enter into the rest which remaineth for the peo- 
 ple of God. 
 
 Let us first of all see (1.) Who the laboeeks and 
 HEAVY LADEN ARE ; (2.) then wc shall see Who 
 
 HELPS them ; and (3.) lastly, What is their rest. 
 
20 
 
 THE WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 All ye that labor and are heavy laden'' embraces a 
 wide field indeed. This voice passes over the troubled 
 waves of human life wherever they are surging ; it is 
 the only voice that can say, Peace, be still !" And 
 where, in the world, do we find any rest apart from the 
 hearing and yielding obedience to this voice ? Nowhere ! 
 man is ever being urged on in the hope of obtaining 
 satisfaction ; he always has, as he thinks, a point in 
 which he will obtain rest, but when he reaches that 
 point, he finds that there is unrest on the crest of the 
 wave, as well as in the trough of the sea : that man 
 never continueth in one stay ; he finds that the utmost 
 he has done is to surmount one of the many hills that 
 are around — the fancied rest is further on ; — he must 
 gird up his loins and climb again. OhJ. Avith what 
 weary, heated spirits are men seeking after rest ; and the 
 bustle and toil of life seem such that they have no ears 
 for hearing the meek and lowly voice of Jesus, saying, 
 Come unto me, and I will give you rest," — not always 
 rcst/rom earthly toil, but rest in earthly toil ; calm re- 
 pose, even though the ship in Avhich you sail be tossed 
 about upon the waves. Adam entered upon unrest 
 when he hid himself in the trees of the garden, from the 
 jiresence of the Lord ; and he transmitted that unrest 
 to us. Best can only be had in restoration, and that is 
 what Jesus offers. — I will give you rest."'*'* 
 
 Cain, as a rejecter of atonement by blood, and a persecutor unto 
 death, of the one by whom such atonement was held and acted upon, is 
 presented to us, as put into a position of permanent unrest. Behold 
 thou hast driven me out this day from the face of the earth, and from 
 thy face shall I be hid ; and I shall bo as a fugitive and a vagabond 
 upon the earth ; and it shall come to pass that every one that lindeth 
 me shall slay me.” Cain’s doom, in its fearful, typical aspect was not 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 21 
 
 Who are the laborers here invited by the Lord ? 
 Steir*'"' says, that icomcovreg (kopiontes) the ^ laborers/ 
 is subject to a necessary restrictionj and connects itself 
 with TrecjyopTcgixEvoL {pephortismenoi) the ^ heavy laden/ 
 as rw rrvevpari (to pneumati) ^ in spirit/ does with tttw- 
 Xol (ptohoi) " poor/ in the Sermon on the Mount. It 
 means not here, according to its usual meaning else- 
 where, those who labor simply, and strain their ener- 
 gies, for such vehement personal labor and exertion, as 
 long as it is fruitlessly put forth, effectually hinders 
 from coming to the only source of re-invigoration ; but 
 it means, according to the proper and original idea of 
 the word, those who are exhausted and spent, who, 
 pressed down by their burden, can bear it no longer. 
 Though He may call all, yet is His call heard only by 
 those who feel their burden, and would be freed from it : 
 this is the mediating link between the offer and accept- 
 ance of salvation.'' We agree to this ; but between the 
 laboring and the heavy laden, we think we see a dis- 
 tinction — possibly two classes ; possibly in the labor 
 and the oppression of the burden, we have two phases 
 of the same misery. We shall speak of the laboring 
 and the heavy laden separately ; alas ! the combination 
 of them both is only too easily within our reach. 
 
 And, first : some there are who are laboring after 
 God's peace ; they want justification ; the consciousness 
 of pardon ; they have attained to a knowledge of need ; 
 
 thus to be cut short. “And the Lord set a mark upon Cain, lest any- 
 finding him should slay him.” We subsequently find Cain building a 
 city, — an attempt, perhaps, to invalidate the curse, in which he, doubt- 
 less, never could succeed. 
 
 * See “ Steir on the Words of Christ.” 
 
22 
 
 THE -‘I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 they are, and must be, restless until that need he sup- 
 plied. The history of the Church of God is full of 
 instances of the hard labor of His peo2)le, while they 
 were endeavoring after rest, and ere they found it in 
 His Son. Let us, first, take the case of Luther, which, 
 together with that of Brainerd, we shall give with but 
 little condensation, as we wish to exhibit in full, the 
 Avorking of tlieir troubled minds. D’Aubigne tells us 
 that : — 
 
 As lie is going from liis father’s house, at Mansfelt, to 
 Erfurtb, he is overtaken by a violent storm, the lightning 
 flashes, the bolt falls at his feet. Luther throws himself upon 
 his knees ; his hour is perhaps come. Death, the judgment, 
 and eternity summon him with all their terrors, and he hears 
 a voice which he can no longer resist. Encompassed Avith the 
 anguish and terror of death, as he says himself, he makes a 
 vow, if the Lord delivers him from this danger, to abandon 
 the world, and devote himself entirely to God. After rising 
 from the ground, having still present to him that death which 
 must one day overtake him, he examines himself seriously, 
 and asks liimself Avhat he ou^ht to do. The thouo'hts that 
 
 o o 
 
 once agitated him now return with greater force. He has 
 endeavored, it is true, to fulfill all his duties, but Avhat is the 
 state of his soul ? Can he appear before the tribunal of a 
 terrible God with an impure heart ? He must become holy. 
 Lie has now as great a thirst for holiness, as he had formerly 
 for knowledge. But Avhere can he find it, or how can he 
 attain it ? The university provided him with the means of 
 satisfying his first desires. Who shall calm that anguish, 
 who shall quench the fire that now consumes him ? To what 
 school of holiness shall he direct his steps ? He will enter 
 a cloister, the monastic life will save him; oftentimes had he 
 heard speak of its powers to transform the heart, to sanctify 
 
THE ‘‘I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 23 
 
 the sinner, to make man perfect. He will enter a monastic 
 order. He will there become holy ; thus will he secure eter- 
 nal life= 
 
 Luther enters the monastery, and to mark his complete 
 separation from the world, sends back to the university his 
 ring of Master of Arts ; there, in that monastery, he endures 
 the greatest humiliations ; he is made the mendicant of the 
 order; but he stoops to all; for he is in search of holiness 
 and peace, and to disobey would in his mind be sin. When 
 Luther had become a reformer, and had declared that heaven 
 was not to be obtained by such means as mortifications, 
 fastings, and watchings, lie knew very well what he was 
 saying. “ I was indeed a pious monk,” he wrote to Duke 
 George of Saxony, and followed the rules of my order more 
 strictly than I can express. If ever monk could obtain heaven 
 by his monkish works, I should certainly have been entitled 
 to it. Of this, all the friars who have known me can testify. 
 If it had continued much longer I should have carried my 
 mortifications even to death, by means of my watchings, 
 prayers, reading, and other labors.” Luther did not find in 
 the tranquillity of the cloister, and in monkish perfection, that 
 peace of mind which he had looked for there. He wished to 
 have the assurance ot his salvation — this was the great want 
 of his soul. Without it there was no repose for him. But 
 the fears that had agitated him in the world pursue him to 
 his cell. Nay, they were increased. The faintest cry of his 
 heart re-echoed loud beneath the silent arclies of the cloister. 
 God had led him thither that he might know himself, and to 
 despair of his own strength and virtue. His conscience, 
 enlightened by the Divine word, told him what it was to be 
 holy, but he was filled with terror at finding, neither in his 
 heart nor in his life, that image of holiness which he had 
 contemplated in the Word of God. The monks and divines of 
 the day encouraged him to satisfy the Divine righteousness by 
 
24 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 meritorious works. But wnac works, tliouglit ho, co.ii come 
 from a heart like mine ? How can I stand before the holiness 
 of my judge with works polluted in their very source ? ‘‘I 
 
 saw that I was a great sinner in the eyes of God,” said he, 
 “ and I did not think it possible for me to propitiate Him by 
 my own merits.” A tender conscience inclined Luther to re- 
 gard the slightest fault as a great sin. He had hardly discov- 
 ered it before he endeavored to expiate it by the severest 
 mortifications, which only served to point out to him the in- 
 utility of all human remedies. “ I tortured myself almost to 
 death,” said he, ‘‘ to procure peace with God for my troubled 
 heart and agitated conscience, but surrounded with thick 
 darkness, I found peace nowhere.” 
 
 So fierce was this inward strife, that on one occasion Luther, 
 overwhelmed with sorrow, shut himself up in his cell, and for 
 several days and nights allowed no one to approach him. 
 One of his friends, Lucas Edemberger, feeling anxious about 
 the unhappy monk, and having a presentiment of the condi- 
 tion in which he wns, took with him some boys who w^ere in 
 the habit of singing in the choirs, and knocked at the door of 
 his cell. No one opens, no one answers. The good Edem- 
 berger, still more alarmed, breaks open the door. Luther 
 lies insensible upon the floor, and giving no signs of life ; his 
 friend strives in vain to recall him to his senses ; he is still 
 motionless. Then the choristers begin to sing a sweet 
 hymn. Their clear voices act like a charm on the poor 
 monk, to whom music was ever one of the greatest pleas- 
 ures ; gradually he recovers his strength, his consciousness, 
 his life. 
 
 While this fierce struggle was going on, there comes a new 
 actor upon the scene. This is John Staupitz, vicar-general of 
 the Augustines for all Germany. This man, who had under- 
 gone much the same course of conflict as Luther, although 
 probably not with such severity, had found peace to his soul 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 25 
 
 in simple faith in Christ ; he is now destined to help Luther 
 on to the peace of God, though an humbler instrument is 
 designed to complete the work. Staupitz comes to the con- 
 vent of Erfurth to make the usual inspection ; v/hen there, he 
 exhibited much kindness to those monks who were under his 
 authority. One of these brothers soon attracted his atten- 
 tion ; he was a young man of middle height, whom study, 
 fasting, and prolonged vigils had so wasted away, that all his 
 bones might bo counted. Ilis eyes, that in after years were 
 compared to a falcon’s, were sunken ; his manner was de- 
 jected ; his countenance betrayed an agitated mind, the prey 
 of a thousand struggles, but yet strong and resolute ; his 
 whole appearance was grave, melancholy, and solemn. Stau- 
 pitz, whose discernment had been exercised by long experience, 
 easily discovered what was passing in his mind, and distin- 
 guished the youthful monk above all who surrounded him. 
 He had had to struggle like Luther, and therefore could un- 
 derstand him above all ; he could point out to him the road 
 
 to peace which he himself had found Luther’s heart 
 
 found an echo in that of Staupitz. The vicar-general under- 
 stood him, and the monk felt a confidence toward him that he 
 had as yet experienced for none. He unbosomed to him the 
 cause of his dejection, described the horrible thoughts that 
 perplexed him ; and then began in the cloister of Erfurth 
 those conversations so full of wisdom and of instruction. Up 
 to this time no one understood Luther. One day, when at 
 table in the refectory, the young monk, dejected and silent, 
 scarcely touched his food. Staupitz, who looked earnestly at 
 him, said at last, “ Why arc you so sad, brother Martin T’ 
 Ah,” replied he, with a deep sigb, “ I do not know what 
 will become of me.” ‘‘These temptations,” resumed Staupitz, 
 “ are more necessary to you than eating or drinking.” These 
 two men did not stop there ; and ere long, in the silence of 
 the cloister, took place that intimate intercourse which pow- 
 
26 
 
 THE ^'1 WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 erfally contributed to lead forth the future reformer from liis 
 state of darkness. 
 
 “ It is in vain,” said Luther, despondingly to Staupitz, 
 “ that I make promises to God ; sin is ever the strongest.” 
 
 “ O my friend,” replied the vicar-general, looking back on 
 his own experience, ‘‘ more than a thousand times have I 
 sworn to our holy God to live piously, and I have never kept 
 my vows. Now, I swear no longer, for I know I can not keep 
 my solemn promises. If God will not bo merciful toward 
 me for the love of Christ, and grant me a happy departure, 
 when I must quit this world, I shall never, with the aid of all 
 my vows, and all my good works, stand before Him ; I must 
 perish.” 
 
 The young monk is terrified at the thought of Divine jus- 
 tice. He lays open all his fears to the vicar-general. He is 
 alarmed at the unspeakable holiness of God, and His sovereign 
 majesty. “ Who may abide the day of his coming, and who 
 shall stand, when ho appeareth ?” 
 
 Staupitz resumes * he knows where he had found peace, 
 and he will point it out to the young man. “ Why,” said he, 
 
 do you torment yourself with all these speculations and these 
 high thoughts? Look at the wounds of Jesus, to the blood 
 He has shed for you : it is there that God’s grace will appear 
 to you. Instead of torturing yourself on account of your sins, 
 throw yourself into the Eedeemer’s arms. Trust in Him — 
 in the righteousness of His life — in the atonement of His 
 death. Do not shrink back. God is not angry with you, it is 
 you who are angry with God. Listen to the Son of God. He 
 became man to give you the assurance of Divine favor. He 
 says to yon, “ You are my sheep, you hear my voice ; no man 
 shall pluck you out of my hand.” 
 
 But Luther does not find in himself the repentance which 
 he thinks necessary for salvation, and replies : “ How can I 
 dare believe in the favor of God, so long as there is no real 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF INVITATION. 
 
 27 
 
 conversion in me ? I ninst be cbanged, before Ho will accept 
 me.” 
 
 llis venerable guide shows liim that there can bo no roal 
 conversion so long as man fears God, as a severe judge. 
 ‘‘What will lie say then,” asks Luther, “to so many con- 
 sciences to which a thousand insupportable tasks are pro- 
 scribed in order that they may gain heaven 
 
 Then he hears this reply of the vicar-general, or rather he 
 does not believe that it comes from man ; it seems to him like 
 a voice from heaven, “There is no real repentance except tliat 
 which begins with the love of God, and of righteousness. 
 AVhat others imagine to be the end and accomplishment of re- 
 pentance is, on the contrary, only its beginning. In order 
 that you may be filled with the love of what is good, you must 
 first be filled with love for God. If you desire to be con- 
 verted, do not be curious about all these mortifications, and all 
 these tortures. Love Him who first loved you i” 
 
 Luther listens — he listens again. These consolations fill 
 him with joy till then unknown, and impart new light. “ It 
 is Jesus Christ,” thinks he in his heart. “ Yes, it is Jesus 
 Christ himself, who so wonderfully consoles me by these 
 sweet and healing words.” These words indeed penetrated to 
 the bottom of the young monk’s heart, like the sharp arrow 
 of a strong man. Guided by this new light, he begins to 
 compare the Scriptures. He looks out all the passages that 
 treat of repentance and conversion. These words till then so 
 dreaded, to use his own expression, “ arc become to him an 
 agreeable pastime, and the sweetest of recreations. All the 
 passages of Scripture that used to alarm him, seem now to 
 run to him from every part, to smile and sport around him.” 
 “ Hitherto,” exclaims he, “ although I carefully dissembled the 
 state of my soul before God, and endeavored to express to- 
 ward Him a love which was a mere constraint and a fiction, 
 there was no expression in Scripture so bitter to me as that 
 
28 
 
 THE “ I WILL ’ OF INVITATION. 
 
 of repentance. But now there is none so sweet or more ac- 
 ceptable.” 
 
 Although Luther had been consoled by Staupitz’ words, he 
 nevertheless fell sometimes into despondency. Sin was again 
 felt in his timid conscience, and then all his previous despair 
 banished the joy of salvation. “0 my sin! my sin I my 
 sin !” cried the young monk one day in the presence of the 
 vicar-general, with a tone of profound anguish. “Well! 
 would you only be a sinner in appearance,” replied the latter, 
 “and have also a Saviour in appearance?” “Know,” replied 
 Staupitz, with authority, “Know that Jesus Christ is the Sa- 
 viour even of those who are great, real sinners, and deserving 
 of utter condemnation.” 
 
 It was not alone the sin he discovered in his heart that 
 agitated Luther : the troubles of his conscience were aug- 
 mented by those of reason. If the holy precepts of the Bible 
 alarmed him, some of the doctrines of that Divine book still 
 more increased his tortures. The truth, which is the great 
 medium by which God confers peace on man, must necessarily 
 begin by taking away from him the false security that de- 
 stroys him. The doctrine of Election particularly disturbed 
 the young man, and launched him into a boundless field of in- 
 quiry. Must he believe that it was man who first chose God 
 for his j)ortion, or that God first elected man ? He wished to 
 penetrate into the secret counsels of God, unvail Ilis mys- 
 teries, see the Invisible, and comprehend the incomprehen- 
 sible. Staupitz checked him 5 he told him not to presume 
 to fathom the hidden God, but to confine himself to what 
 He has manifested to us in Jesus Christ. “ Look at Christ’s 
 wounds,” said he, “ and then you will see God’s counsel to- 
 ward man shine brightly forth. Wo can not understand 
 God out of Jesus Christ. In Him, the Lord has said, 
 you will find what I am, and what I require. Nowhere 
 else, neither in heaven, nor in earth, will you discover it.” 
 
 V 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 29 
 
 The vicar-general did still more. He showed Luther the 
 paternal designs of Providence in permitting these temptations 
 and these various struggles that his soul was to undergo. He 
 made him view them in a light well calculated to revive his 
 courage. “ It is not in vain,” said he to him, “ that God ex- 
 ercises you in so many conflicts : you will sec that He will 
 employ you as His servant for great purposes.” 
 
 Thus the struggles of Luther prepared his heart to under- 
 stand the word of God. The soil had been ploughed deep, 
 and the incorruptible seed sank into it with power. When 
 Staupitz quitted Erfurth, a new dawn had risen upon Luther ! 
 
 But the work was not yet finished. The vicar-general had 
 prepared the way : God reserved its accomplishment for an 
 humbler instrument. The conscience of the young Augustine 
 had not yet found repose. His body gave way at last under 
 the conflict and the tension of his soul. He was attacked by 
 an illness, that brought him to the brink of the grave. This 
 was in the second year of his abode in the convent. All his 
 distresses, and all his fears were aroused at the approach of 
 death. His own impurity, and the holiness of God again dis- 
 turbed his mind. One day, as he lay overwhelmed with de- 
 spair, an aged monk entered his cell, and addressed a few 
 words of comfort to him. . Luther opened his heart to him, 
 and made known the fears by which he was tormented. The 
 venerable old man was incapable of following up that soul in 
 all its doubts as Staupitz had done ; but he knew his Credo^ 
 and had found in it much consolation to his heart. He will 
 therefore apply the same remedy to his young brother. Lead- 
 ing him back to that Apostle’s creed which Luther had learnt 
 in early childhood at the school of Mansfeldt, the aged monk 
 repeated this article with kind good nature : ‘‘ I believe in the 
 forgiveness of sinsT These simple words, which the pious 
 brother pronounced with sincerity in this decisive moment, 
 diffused great consolation in Luther’s heart. “ I believe !” he 
 
30 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 repeated to liimself ere long on liis bed of sickness, “ I believe 
 in the forgiveness of sins !” “ Ah !” said the monk, “ you 
 
 must believe not only in the forgiveness of David’s and Peter’s 
 sins, for this even the devils believe. It is God’s command 
 that we believe our own sins are forgiven us.” How delight- 
 ful did this commandment seem to poor Luther ! “ Hear what 
 
 St. Bernard says in his discourse on the Annunciation,” added 
 the aged brother : ‘‘ The testimony of the Holy Ghost in thy 
 heart is this : ‘ Thy sins are forgiven thee.’ ” 
 
 From this moment light sprung up in the heart of the young 
 monk of Erfurth. The word of grace had been pronounced, 
 he had believed in it. He disclaims all merit of salvation, 
 and resigns himself confidingly to the grace of God, in Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 This is the story of the famous Martin Luther, the 
 solitary monk that shook the world he was pre- 
 eminently a laborer after spiritual peace, but, like all 
 others who attain to peace, he found it not in toil, but 
 in simple resting upon Jesus. 
 
 So common is this laboring after rest for the soul, 
 that we shall give yet one or two more instances of it. 
 It may be that the reader has himself found peace ; if 
 he have, he will have no objection to go over the bat- 
 tle-field again ; perhaps he knows of some one who is 
 toiling for peace, but has found none ; then we shall 
 have had the pleasure of furnishing him with instances 
 to his hand, by which he can prove to his toiling and 
 heavy laden friend that no toil after Christ will give 
 peace, that it is in rest in Him that peace is to be 
 had. 
 
 The next hard laborer that appears upon the scene 
 is the celebrated David Brainerd, the missionary to the 
 
THE WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 31 
 
 Indians ; lie too must tell the tale of his stragglings 
 and final peace. 
 
 Some time in the winter of 1732 I was something roused 
 out of carnal security, by I scarce know what means at first ; 
 but was much excited by the prevailing of a mortal sickness in 
 Haddam. I was frequent, constant, and sometimes much 
 melted in duties, and took great delight in the performance of 
 them ; and I sometimes hoped that I was converted, or at least 
 in a good and hopeful way for heaven and happiness, not 
 knowing what conversion was. The Spirit of God at this time 
 proceeded far with me ; I was remarkably dead to the world, 
 and my thoughts were almost wholly employed about my soul’s 
 concerns ; and I may indeed say, “ Almost I was persuaded to 
 be a Christian.” I was exceedingly distressed and melancholy 
 at the death of my mother, in March, 1732, but afterward my 
 religious concern began to decline, and I by degrees fell back 
 into a considerable degree of security, though I still attended 
 secret prayer frequently. 
 
 About the 15th of April, 1732, I removed from my father’s 
 house to East Haddam, where I spent four years, but “ still 
 without God in the world though for the most part I went 
 a round of secret duty. I was not exceedingly addicted to 
 young company, or frolicking, as it is called. But this I know, 
 that when I did go into company, I never returned from a 
 frolic in my life with so good a conscience as I went with ; it 
 always added new guilt to me, and made me afraid to come to 
 the throne of grace, and spoiled those good frames I was wont 
 sometimes to please myself with. But, alas ! all my good 
 frames were but self-righteousness, not bottomed on a desire 
 for the glory of God. 
 
 About the latter end of April, 1737, 1 removed to Durham, 
 and began to work on my farm, frequently longing, from a 
 natural inclination, after a liberal education. I became very 
 
32 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 strict and watcliful over my tbouglits, words, and actions ; and 
 tliouglit I must be sober indeed because I designed to devote 
 myself to the ministry, and imagined I did dedicate myself to 
 the Lord. 
 
 Some time in April, 1738, I went to Mr. Fiske’s, the pastor 
 of the church at Haddam, and lived with him during his life. 
 And I remember he advised me wholly to abandon young 
 company, and associate myself with grave elderly people, 
 which counsel I followed ; and my manner of life was now 
 exceedingly regular, and full of religion, such as it was ; for I 
 read my Bible more than twice through in less than a year ; 
 I spent much time every day in secret prayer and other secret 
 duties ; I gave great attention to the word preached, and en^ 
 deavored to my utmost to retain it. So much concerned was 
 I about religion, that I agreed with some young persons to 
 meet privately on Sabbath evenings for religious exercises, 
 and thought myself sincere in these duties ; and after our 
 meeting was ended I used to repeat the discourses of the day 
 to myself, and recollect what I could, though sometimes it 
 was very late in the night. Again on Monday mornings I 
 used sometimes to recollect the same sermons. And I had 
 sometimes considerable movings of affections in duties, and 
 much pleasure, and had many thoughts of joining the 
 church. In short, I had a very good outside, and rested 
 entirely on my duties, though I was not sensible of it. 
 
 After Mr. Fiske’s death I proceeded in my learning with my 
 brother ; and was still very constant in religious duties, and 
 often wondered at the levity of professors ; it was a trouble to 
 me that they were so careless in religious matters. Thus I 
 proceeded a considerable length on a self-righteous founda- 
 tion ; and should have been entirely lost and undone, had not 
 the mere mercy of God prevented. 
 
 Some time in the beginning of winter, 1738, it pleased God 
 on one Sabbath day morning, as I was walking out for some 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 33 
 
 secret duties, as I remember, to give me on a sudden such 
 a sense of my danger and of the wrath of God, that I stood 
 amazed, and my former good frames that I had pleased my- 
 self with, all presently vanished ; and from the view that I 
 had of my sin and vileness, I was much distressed all that 
 day, fearing the vengeance of God would soon overtake me ; 
 I was much dejected, and kept much alone, and sometimes 
 begrudged the birds and beasts their happiness, because they 
 were not exposed to eternal misery, as I evidently saw I was. 
 And thus I lived from day to day, being frequently in great 
 distress ; sometimes there appeared mountains before me to 
 obstruct my hopes of mercy ; and the work of conversion 
 appeared so great, I thought I should never be the subject 
 of it ; but used, however, to pray and cry to God, and per- 
 form other duties with great earnestness, and lioped by some 
 means to make the case better. And though I hundreds 
 of times renounced all pretences of any worth in my duties, 
 as I thought, even in the season of the performance of 
 them, and often confessed to God that I deserved nothing 
 for the very best of them but eternal condemnation ; yet still 
 I had a secret latent hope of recommending myself to God 
 by my religious duties ; and when I prayed affectionately, 
 and my heart seemed in some measure to melt, I hoped God 
 would be thereby moved to pity me ; my prayers then 
 looked with some appearance of goodness in them, and I 
 seemed to mourn for sin : and then I could in some measure 
 venture on the mercy of God in Christ, as I thought, though 
 the preponderating thought and foundation of my hope was 
 some imagination of goodness in my heart-meltings, and flow- 
 ing of affections in duty, and sometimes extraordinary enlarge- 
 ments therein. 
 
 Some time in February, 1738-9, I set apart a day for secret 
 fasting and prayer, and spent the day in almost incessant cries 
 to God for mercy, that he would open my eyes to see the 
 
 2 * 
 
34 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 evil of sin, and the way of life by Jesus Christ. And God 
 was pleased that day to make considerable discoveries of my 
 heart to mo. But still I trusted in all the duties I per- 
 formed, though there ’was no manner of goodness in those 
 duties, there being no respect to tlie glory of God in them, 
 nor any such principle in my heart : yet God was pleased to 
 make my endeavors that day a means to show me my help- 
 lessness in some measure. 
 
 Sometimes I was greatly encouraged, and imagined that 
 God loved me, and was pleased with me, and thought I should 
 soon be fully reconciled to God : while the whole was founded 
 on mere presumption, arising from enlargement in duty, or 
 flowing of affections, or some good resolutions, and the like. 
 And when, at times, great distress began to arise, on a sight 
 of my vileness, and nakedness, and inability to deliver myself 
 from a sovereign God, I used to put off the discovery, as 
 what I could not bear. Once, I remember, a terrible pang 
 of distress seized me, and the thoughts of renouncing myself, 
 and standing naked before God, stripped of all goodness, 
 were so dreadful to me, that I was ready to say to them, as 
 Felix to Paul, “ Go thy way for this time.” Thus, though I 
 daily longed for greater conviction of sin, supposing that I 
 must see more of my dreadful state in order to a remedy ; yet, 
 when the discoveries of my vile, hellish heart were made to 
 me, the sight was so dreadful, and showed me so plainly my 
 exposedness to damnation, that I could not endure it. I con- 
 stantly strove after whatever qualifications I imagined others 
 obtained before the reception of Christ, in order to recom- 
 mend me to his favor. Sometimes I felt the power of a hard 
 heart, and supposed it must be softened before Christ would 
 accept of me : and when I felt any meltings of heart, I 
 hoped now the work was almost done : and hence, wdien 
 my distress still remained, I was wont to murmur at God’s 
 dealings ivith me ; and thought when others felt their hearts 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 35 
 
 softened, God showed them mercy ; but my distress remained 
 still. 
 
 Sometimes I grew remiss and sluggish, without any con- 
 victions of sin, for a considerable time together ; but after 
 such a season, convictions sometimes seized me more violently. 
 One night I remember in particular, when I was walking 
 solitarily abroad, I had opened to me such a view of my sin 
 that I feared the ground would cleave asunder under my feet, 
 and become my grave, and send my soul quick into hell 
 before I could get home. And though I was forced to go to 
 bed^ lest my distress should be discovered by others, which I 
 much feared, yet I scarce durst sleep at all : for I thought it 
 would be a great wonder if I should be out of hell in the 
 morning. And though my distress was sometimes thus great, 
 yet I greatly dreaded the loss of convictions, and returning 
 back to a state of carnal security, and to my former insensi- 
 bility of impending wrath : which made me exceeding exact 
 in my behaviour lest I should stifle the motions of God’s 
 spirit. AVhen at any time I took a view of my convictions of 
 my own sinfulness, and thought the degree of them to be con- 
 siderable, I was wont to trust in my convictions; but this 
 confidence, and the hope that arose in me from it, of soon 
 making some notable advances towards deliverance, would 
 case my mind, and I soon became more senseless and remiss : 
 but, then again when I discerned my convictions to grow 
 languid, and I thought them about to leave me, this immedi- 
 ately alarmed and distressed me ; sometimes I expected to 
 take a large step, and get very far towards conversion, by some 
 particular opportunity or means I had in view. 
 
 The many disappointments, and great distresses, and per- 
 plexity I met with, put me into a most horrible frame of 
 contesting with the Almighty ; and my wicked heart often 
 wished for some other way of salvation than by Jesus Christ; 
 and being like the troubled sea, and my thoughts confused, I 
 
36 
 
 THE “I AVILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 used to contrive to escape the wrath of God by some other 
 means, and had strange projections full of atheism, contriving 
 to disappoint God’s decrees and designs concerning me, or to 
 escape God’s notice and hide myself from Him. But when, 
 upon reflection, I saw these projections were vain, and would 
 not serve me, and that I could contrive nothing for my own 
 relief, this Avould throw my mind into the most horrid frame 
 to wish there was no God, or to wish there were some other 
 God that would control Him. These thoughts and desires 
 were the secret inclinations of my heart, that were frequently 
 acting before I was aware : but alas ! they were mine, although 
 I was affrighted with them when I came to reflect on them : 
 when I considered of it, it distressed me to think that my 
 heart was so full of enmity against God, and it made me 
 tremble lest God’s vengeance should suddenly fall upon me. 
 I used before to imagine my heart was not so bad as the 
 Scriptures and some other books represented. Sometimes 
 I used to take much pains to work up into a good frame, and 
 humble submissive disposition, and hoped there was some 
 goodness in me : but it may be on a sudden, the thoughts of 
 the strictness of the law, or the sovereignty of God, would so 
 irritate the corruption of my heart, which I hoped I had 
 brought to a good frame, that it would break over all bounds, 
 and burst forth on all sides, like floods of waters when they 
 break down their dam. But being sensible of the necessity of 
 a deep humiliation in order to a saving union with Christ, I 
 used to set myself to work in my own heart those convictions 
 that were requisite in such a humiliation ; as a conviction that 
 God would be just if He cast me off for ever : and that if 
 ever God should bestow mercy on me, it would be mere grace, 
 though I should be in distress many years first, and be ever so 
 much engaged in duty ; that God was not in the least obliged 
 to pity me the more for all past duties, cries, and tears. These 
 things I strove to ray utmost to bring myself to a firm belief 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 37 
 
 of, and hearty assent to ; and hoped that now I was brought 
 olf from myself, and truly bowed to the divine sovereignty ; 
 and was wont to tell God in my prayers, that now I had those 
 very dispositions of soul that He required, and on which lie 
 showed mercy to others, and thereupon to beg and plead for 
 mercy to me. But when I found no relief, and was still 
 oppressed with guilt and fears of wrath, my soul was in a 
 tumult, and my heart rose against God, as dealing hardly with 
 me. Yet then my conscience flew in my face, putting me in 
 mind of my late confession to God of His justice in my con- 
 demnation. And this giving me a sight of the badness of my 
 heart, threw me again into distress, and I wished I had watched 
 my heart more narrowly, to keep it from breaking out against 
 God’s dealings with mo, and I even wished I had not pleaded 
 for mercy on account of my humiliation, because thereby I 
 had lost all my seeming goodness. 
 
 Thus, scores of times, I vainly imagined myself humbled, 
 and prepared for saving mercy. 
 
 While I was in this distressed, bewildered, and tumultuous 
 state of mind, the corruption of my heart was especially irri- 
 tated with these things following : — 
 
 1. The strictness of the divine law. For I found it w’as 
 impossible for me, after my utmost pains, to answer the 
 demands of it. I often made new resolutions and as often 
 broke them. I imputed the whole to carelessness, and the 
 want of being more watchful, and used to call myself a fool 
 for my negligence. But when, upon a stronger resolution, and 
 greater endeavors, and close application of myself to fasting 
 and prayer, I found all attempts fail, then I quarreled with 
 the law of God, as unreasonably rigid. I thought if it ex- 
 tended only to my outward actions and behavior, I could 
 bear with it; but I found it condemned me for my evil 
 thoughts, and the sins of my heart, which I could not possibly 
 prevent. I was extremely loath to give up, and avow my 
 
38 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATIOX. 
 
 helplessness in this matter ; but after repeated disappointments, 
 thought that, rather than perish I could do a little more still, 
 especially if such and such circumstances might but attend 
 my endeavors and strivings. I hoped that I should strive 
 more earnestly than ever, if the matter came to extremity, 
 though I never could find the time to do my utmost in the 
 manner I intended ; and this hope of future more favorable 
 circumstances, and of doing something great hereafter, kept 
 me from utter despair in myself, and from seeing myself fallen 
 into the hands of a sovereign God, and dependent on nothing 
 but free and boundless grace. 
 
 2. Another grievance was, that faith alone was the con- 
 dition of salvation ; and that God would not come down to 
 lower terms, that he would not promise life and salvation upon 
 my sincere and hearty prayers and endeavors. That word, 
 Mark xvi. 16, “He that believeth not shall be damned,” cut 
 off all hope there ; and I found that faith was the sovereign 
 gift of God : that I could not get it as of myself, and could 
 not oblige God to bestow it upon me by any of my perform- 
 ances, Eph. ii. 1 — 8. “This,” I w^as ready to say, “is a hard 
 saying, who can hear it ?” I could not bear that all I had 
 done should stand for mere nothing, who had been very con- 
 scientious in duty, and had been exceeding religious a great 
 while, and had, as I thought, done much more than many 
 others that had obtained mercy. I confessed indeed the vilc- 
 ness of my duties ; but then what made them at that time seem 
 vile, was my wandering thoughts in them, not because I was 
 all over defiled like a devil, and the principle corrupt from 
 whence they fiowed, so that I could not possibly do anything 
 that was good. And therefore I called what I did, by the 
 name of honest, faithful endeavors, and could not bear that 
 God had made no promises of salvation to them. 
 
 3. Another thing was, that I could not find out what faith 
 was ; or what it was to believe, and come to Christ. I read 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 39 
 
 the calls of Christ made to the weary and heavy laden, but 
 could find no way that lie directed them to come in ; I 
 thought I would gladly come if I knew how, though the path 
 of duty directed to were ever so difficult. I read Mr. Stod- 
 dart’s “ Guide to Christ,” which I trust was, in the hand of 
 God, the happy means of my conversion, and my heart rose 
 against the author, for though he told me my very heart 
 all along under convictions, and seemed to be very bene- 
 ficial to me in his directions, yet here he failed, he did not 
 tell me anything I could do that would bring me to Christ, 
 but left me, as it were, with a great gulf between me and 
 Christ, without any direction to get through. For I was 
 not yet effectually and experimentally taught, that there 
 could be no way prescribed whereby a natural man could, of 
 his own strength, obtain that which is supernatural, and which 
 the highest angel cannot give. 
 
 4. Another thing that I found a great inward opposition 
 to, was the sovereignty of God. I could not bear that it 
 should be wholly at God^s pleasure, to save or damn me just 
 as lie would. That passage, Rom. ix. 11 — 23, was a constant 
 vexation to me, especially verse 21. The reading or medita- 
 ting on this always destroyed my seeming good frames ; when 
 I thought I was almost humbled, and almost resigned to God’s 
 sovereignty, the reading or thinking on this passage would 
 make my enmity against the sovereignty of God appear. And 
 when I came to reflect on my inward enmity and blasphemy, 
 that arose on this occasion, I was the more afraid of God, and 
 driven farther from any hopes of reconciliation with Him ; and 
 it gave me such a dreadful view of myself, that I dreaded 
 more than ever to see myself in God’s hands, and at His 
 sovereign disposal, and it made me more opposite than ever 
 to submit to His sovereignty ; for I thought God designed 
 my damnation. 
 
 All this time the spirit of God was pow^erfully at work 
 
40 
 
 THE ‘=1 WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 with me ; and I was inwardly pressed to relinquish all self- 
 confidence, all hopes of ever helping myself by any means 
 whatsoever ; and the conviction of my lost estate was some- 
 times so clear and manifest before my eyes, that it was as if it 
 had been declared to me in so many words, “ It is done, it 
 is done ; it is forever impossible to deliver yourself.” For 
 about three or four days my soul was thus distressed, espe- 
 cially at some turns, where for a few moments I seemed 
 to myself lost and undone ; but then would shrink back 
 immediately from the sight, because I dared not venture 
 myself into the hands of God as wholly helpless, and at the 
 disposal of His sovereign pleasure. I dared not see that 
 important truth concerning myself, that I was “ dead in 
 trespasses and sins.” But when I had, as it were, thrust 
 away these views of myself at any time, I felt desirous to 
 have the same discoveries of myself again ; for I greatly 
 feared being given over of God to final stupidity. When I 
 thought of putting it off to a more convenient season, the 
 conviction Avas so close and powerful Avith regard to the 
 present time, that it Avas the best time, and probably the only 
 time, that I dare not put it off. It Avas the sight of truth 
 concerning myself, truth respecting my state, as a creature 
 fallen and alienated from God, and that consequently could 
 make no demands on God for mercy, from Avhich my soul 
 shrank aAvay, and trembled to think of beholding. And 
 though sometime before I had taken much pains, as I 
 thought, to submit to the sovereignty of God, yet I mistook 
 the thing ; and did not once imagine, that seeing and being 
 made experimentally sensible of this truth, Avhich my soul 
 noAV so much dreaded and trembled at a sense of, Avas the 
 frame of soul that I had been so earnest in pursuit of hereto- 
 fore ; for I had ever hoped, that Avhen I had attained to that 
 humiliation Avhich I supposed necessary to go before faith, 
 then it Avould not be fair for God to cast me off ; but noAV I 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 41 
 
 saw it was so far from any goodness in me to own myself 
 spiritually dead, and destitute of all goodness, that on the 
 contrary my mouth would be forever stopped by it ; and it 
 looked as dreadful to me, to see myself, and the relation I 
 stood in to God, as a sinner and a criminal, and He a great 
 Judge and Sovereign, as it would be to a poor trembling 
 creature to venture off some high precipice. And hence I 
 put it off for a minute or two, and tried for better circum- 
 stances to do it in ; either I must read a passage or two, or 
 pray first ; or something of the like nature ; or else put off my 
 submission to God’s sovereignty with an objection, that I did 
 not know how to submit. But the truth was, I could see no 
 safety in owning myself in the hands of a sovereign God, 
 and confessing that I could lay no claim to anything better 
 than damnation. 
 
 But after a considerable time spent in such like exercises 
 and distresses, one morning, while I was walking in a solitary 
 place, as usual, I at once saw that all my contrivances and 
 projections to effect or procure deliverance and salvation for 
 myself, were utterly in vain. I Avas brought quite to a stand, 
 at finding myself totally lost. I had thought many times be- 
 fore, that the difficulties in my way Avere very great ; but now 
 I saw, in another and very different light, that it Avas forever 
 impossible for me to do any thing toAvard helping or deliver- 
 ing myself. T then thought of blaming myself that I had 
 not done more, and been more engaged, Avhile I had oppor- 
 tunity ; for it seemed now as if the season of doing was for- 
 ever over and gone ; but I instantly saAV, that let me have 
 done what I would, it Avould not more have tended to my 
 helping myself, than what I had done ; that I had made all 
 the pleas I ever could have made to all eternity; and that all 
 my pleas Avere vain. The tumult that had been before in 
 my mind was noAV quieted ; and I Avas something eased of 
 that distress Avhich I felt, whilst struggling against a sight of 
 
42 
 
 THE ‘‘I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 myself, and of tlie divine sovereii^nty. I had the greatest 
 certainty that my state was forever miserable, for all that I 
 could do ; and wondered, and was almost astonished, that I 
 had never been sensible of it before. In the time while I re- 
 mained in this state, my notions respecting my duties were 
 quite different from what I had ever entertained in times 
 past. Before this, the more I did in duty the more I thought 
 God was obliged to me, or at least the more hard I thought 
 it would be for God to cast me off; though at the same time 
 I confessed, and thought I saw that there was no goodness or 
 merit in my duties ; but now, the more I did in prayer, or 
 any other duty, the more I saw I was indebted to God for 
 allowing me to ask for mercy ; for I saw it was self-interest 
 that led me to pray, and that I had never once prayed from 
 any respect to the glory of God. Now I saw there was no 
 necessary connection between my prayers and the bestow- 
 ment of divine mercy : that they laid not the least obliga- 
 tion upon God to bestow His grace upon mo ; and that there 
 was no more virtue or goodness in them, than there would be 
 in my paddling with my hand in the water, which was the 
 comparison I had then in my mind ; and this because they 
 \vere not performed from any love or regard to God. I saw 
 that I had been heaping up my devotions before God, fast- 
 ing, praying, etc., pretending, and indeed really thinking at 
 some times, that I was aiming at the glory of God ; whereas, 
 I never once truly intended it, but only my own happiness. I 
 saw that as I had never done any thing for God, I had no 
 claim to lay to any thing from Him but perdition, on ac- 
 count of my hypocrisy and mockery. 0 how difficult did my 
 duties now appear from what they used to do ! I used to 
 charge them with sin and imperfection ; but this was only on 
 account of the wanderings and vain thoughts attending them, 
 and not because I had no regard to God in them — for this I 
 thought I had ; but when I saw evidently that I had regard 
 
THE WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 43 
 
 to nothing but self-interest, then they appeared vile mockery 
 of God, self- worship, and a continual course of lies ; so that I 
 saw now, there was something worse had attended my duties 
 than barely a few wanderings : for the whole was nothing but 
 self-worship and a horrid abuse of God. 
 
 I continued, as I remember, in this state of mind from Fri- 
 day morning till the Sabbath evening following, July 1 2th, 
 1739, when I was walking again in the same solitary place, 
 where I was brought to see myself lost and helpless as was 
 before mentioned ; and here, in a mournful melancholy state 
 was attempting to pray, but found no heart to engage in that 
 or any other duty ; my prime concern and exercise, and re- 
 ligious affections, were now gone. I thought the Spirit of 
 God had quite left me, but still was not distressed : yet discon- 
 solate, as if there was nothing in heaven or earth could make 
 me happy. 
 
 And having been thus endeavoring to pray, though being 
 as I thought, very stupid and senseless for near half an hour, 
 then, as I was walking in a dark thick grove, unspeakable 
 glory seemed to open to the view and apprehension of my 
 soul ; I do not mean any external brightness, for I saw no such 
 thing ; nor do I intend any imagination of a body of light, 
 somewhere away in the third heaven, nor any thing of that 
 nature ; but it was a new inward apprehension or view that I 
 had of God, such as I never had before, nor any thing which 
 had the least resemblance of it. I stood still, and wondered 
 and admired ; I knew that I never had seen before any thing 
 comparable to it for excellency and beauty ; it was widely 
 different from all the conceptions that ever I had had of God, 
 or things divine. I had no particular apprehension of any 
 one person in the trinity, cither the Father, the Son, or the 
 Holy Ghost ; but it appeared to be divine glory that I there 
 beheld ; and my soul rejoiced with joy unspeakable, to see 
 such a God, such a glorious divine being ; and I was inwardly 
 
44 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION, 
 
 pleased and satisfied that He should be God over all forever 
 and ever. My soul was so captivated and delighted with the 
 excellency, loveliness, greatness, and other perfections of God, 
 that I was even swallowed up in Him ; at least to that de- 
 gree, that I had no thought, as I remember, at first about my 
 own salvation, and scarce reflected there was such a creature 
 as myself. 
 
 I continued in this state of inward joy and peace, yet as- 
 tonishment, till near dark, without any sensible abatement ; 
 and then began to think and examine what I had seen, and 
 felt sweetly composed in my mind all the evening following. 
 I felt myself in a new world, and everything about me 
 appeared with a different aspect from what it was wont 
 to do. 
 
 At this time, the way of salvation opened to me with such 
 infinite wisdom, suitableness, and excellency, that I wondered 
 I should ever think of any other way of salvation ; and was 
 amazed that I had not dropped my own contrivances, and 
 complied with this blessed and excellent way before. If I 
 could have been saved by my own duties, or any other way 
 that I had formerly contrived, my whole soul would now 
 have refused. I wondered that all the world did not see and 
 comply with this way of salvation entirely by the righteous- 
 ness of Christ. 
 
 The sweet relish of what I then felt continued with me 
 for several days, almost constantly, in a greater or less degree , 
 I could not but sweetly rejoice in God, lying down and 
 rising up. 
 
 To this we may add an affecting account which 
 Brainerd gives of one of his converts, who had been in 
 much distress of mind, but was brought under the 
 preaching of the word to a heavenly frame, composure 
 of spirit, and entire resignation to the divine will. 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 45 
 
 When I came to discourse particularly with her/' 
 Brainerd writes, and to inquire of her how she got 
 relief from the spiritual distresses under which she had 
 lately been, she answered, in broken English — ^ Me try, 
 me try, save myself : last, my strength be all gone,' 
 meaning her ability to save herself : ^ could not me 
 stir bit further. Den last, me forced let Jesus Christ 
 alone, send me hell if he please.' I said, ^ But you were 
 not willing to go to hell, were you ?' She replied, 
 
 ^ Could not me help it. My heart would be wicked for 
 all. Could not me make him good,' meaning that she 
 saw it was right she should go to hell, because her heart 
 was wicked ; and would be so, after all that she could do 
 to mend it. I asked her how she got out of this case. 
 She answered, still in the same broken language — ^ By 
 by my heart be grad desperately.' (By and by my heart 
 was exceedingly glad.) I asked her why her heart was 
 glad. She replied ^ Grad my heart Jesus Christ do 
 what he please with me. Den me tink, grad my heart 
 Jesus Christ send me hell. Did not me care where He 
 put me : me lobe Him for all.' (My heart was glad that 
 Jesus Christ would do with me what he pleased. Then 
 I thought my heart would be glad although Christ should 
 send me to hell. I did not care where He put me ; I 
 should love Him for all — ) that is, do what he would 
 with her. And she could not readily be convinced, but 
 that she was Avilling to go to hell, if Christ were j)leased 
 to send her thither, though the truth evidently was, that 
 her will was so swallowed up in the divine will, that 
 she could not frame any hell in her imagination, that 
 would be dreadful or undesirable, provided it was the 
 will of God to send her to it." / 
 
46 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 The case of Simeon will supply another illustration. 
 He says : — 
 
 It was but the third day after iny arrival at college^ 
 that I understood I should be expected shortly to attend 
 the Lord's Supper. Without a moment's loss of time^ I 
 bought the ^ Whole Duty of Man/ (the only religious 
 book I had ever heard of^) and began to read it witli 
 great diligence ; at the same time calling my ways to 
 remembrance^ and crying to God for mercy ; and so 
 earnest was I in these exercises^ that within three weeks 
 I made myself quite ill with reading^ fasting, and jirayer. 
 I next j)rocured ^ Kettlewell on the Sacrament/' but I 
 remember that it required more of me than I could bear, 
 and, therefore, 1 2)rocured ^ Wilson on the Lord's Supper,' 
 which seemed to be more moderate in its requirements. 
 I continued with unabated earnestness to search out, and 
 mourn over the numberless iniquities of my former life ; 
 and so greatly was my mind oppressed with the weight 
 of them, that I frequently looked upon the dogs with 
 envy ; wishing, if it were possible, that I could be blessed 
 with their mortality, and they be cursed with my im- 
 mortality in my stead. I set myself immediately to 
 undo all my former sins, as far as I could ; and did it in 
 some instpiTices v/hich required great self-denial, my 
 distress of mind continued for about three months, and 
 well might it have continued for years, but God began at 
 last to smile upon mo, and to give me a hoj)0 of accept- 
 ance Avith Him. The circumstances attendant on this 
 Avere very peculiar. My efforts to remedy my former 
 misdeeds had been steadily pursued, and in comparison 
 of approving myself to God in this matter, I made no 
 account of shame, or loss, or anything in the Avorld. In 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 47 
 
 jiroportioii as I proceeded in this work^ I felt somewhat 
 of hope springing up in my mind ; hut it was an indis- 
 tinct kind of hope^ founded on God's mercy to real pen- 
 itents. But as I Avas reading ^ Wilson on the Lord’s 
 Supper/ I met with an expression to this effect : ^ That 
 the Jews knew what they did when they transferred 
 their sin to the head of their offering.' The thought 
 rushed into my mind^ What ! may I transfer all my 
 guilt to another ? Has God provided an offering for mc^ 
 that I may lay my sins on his head ? Then, God Avilling, 
 I will not bear them on my own soul one moment longer. 
 Accordingly I sought to lay my sins upon the sacred 
 head of Jesus ; and on the Wednesday began to have a 
 hope of mercy ; on the Thursday that hope increased ; 
 on the Friday and Saturday it became more strong ; and 
 on the Sunday morning (Easter Hay,) I awoke Avith those 
 Avords upon my heart and lips, ^ Jesus Christ is risen 
 to-day ! Hallelujah !' From that liour peace floAved in 
 rich abundance into my soul."'*'' 
 
 Hewitson again, speaking of his conversion, says : — 
 I am sure of this, that /or a long^ long time^ I have 
 been deceiving myself and making myself miserable 
 CA^ery day, through ignorance of the free, glorious gos- 
 pel, Avhile I imagined that I clearly understood its 
 gracious character. For long the painful feeling still 
 preyed upon my mind, that I must do some good Avorks 
 myself, or God Avould not accept me in Christ Jesus ; 
 and my misery Avas, that Avhile Satan tlius blinded my 
 eyes, I found myself unable to do the good Avorks that I 
 Avould. Noav I see that the gospel is quite different — 
 that it is free, and full, and Avholly of grace." 
 
 * Sec Carus’ Memoirs cf Simeon.” 
 
48 
 
 THE “I WILL*' OF INVITATION. 
 
 And if we go back to the early history of the Churchy 
 the confessions of St„ Augustine will supply another 
 striking example. 
 
 The house he lodged in had a little garden^ in Avhich 
 he could always reckon on finding a quiet retreat. 
 
 Thither/^ says he^ the tumult of my breast hurried 
 me^ where no man might hinder the hot contention 
 wherein I had engaged with myself. What said I not 
 against myself ? With what scourges of condemnation 
 lashed I not my soul^ that it might follow me striving 
 to go after Thee ! . . . Thus soul-sick was and 
 
 tormented, accusing myself much more severely than my 
 wont, rolling and turning me in my chain.'' 
 
 For ten years had he been groping after Christ, but all 
 his struggles only left him more guilty and more self- 
 condemned. I cast myself down," says he, I know 
 not how, under a certain fig-tree, giving full vent to my 
 tears ; and to this purpose spake I unto Thee ; — ^ How 
 long, Lord, wilt Thou bo angry ? for ever ? How long ? 
 how long ? to-morrow, and to-morrow ? Why not now ? 
 why not now Augustine Avas still speaking and 
 Aveeping in the most bitter contrition of his heart, when 
 suddenly there fell upon his ear from a neighboring 
 house, a voice, as of a boy or girl chanting and oft repeat- 
 ing, — Take up and read ! take up and read !" Checking 
 the torrent of his tears, he arose, interpreting it to be no 
 other than a command from God, to open the book and 
 read the first chapter he should find. He snatched the 
 volume of St. Paul, which he had brought Avith him to 
 the garden, opened it, and his eye fell on that Scripture, 
 — Put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not 
 provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof." ^‘No 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 49 
 
 further would I read/’ says he ; nor needed I : for in- 
 stantly^ at the end of this sentence^ by a light as it were 
 of serenity infused into my hearty all the darkness of 
 doubt vanished away ; I felt it scatter^ and descried 
 the dawning day. ....... 
 
 How hast thou loved us^ Father^ delivering up thy 
 only Son for us ungodly ! Well may my hope be strong 
 through such an Intercessor ; else I should despair. 
 Many and great are my diseases^ Thy medicine larger 
 still ! . . Terrified with my sins^ and the Aveight 
 
 of my misery, I was desponding, but Thou encouragest 
 me, saying, ^ Christ died for all, that they which live 
 should not henceforth live unto themselves, but to Him 
 who died for them and rose again." So I cast all my 
 care on Thee, Lord, that I may live, — not Avith doubting, 
 but Avith assured confidence do I love Thee, 0 Lord ! 
 Thou art my King ; reign absolute in my heart And 
 some years after this, we find him saying : ^^No Avant 
 of deserving on my part, not even the lowest and most 
 mortifying thoughts of my vileness and unAvorthiness, 
 nor the highest and most enlarged notions of the excel- 
 lence of the bliss in heaven, can cast me down from 
 this high tower of hope.""’*" 
 
 Many a long century had passed away, Avhen a boy 
 at Oxford, Charles Wesley by name, began to be 
 concerned about the conscientious improvement of his 
 time, Avhich had before been lost in idle diversions, and 
 commenced diligently to observe the method of study 
 prescribed by the statutes of the University. Others 
 joined him, forming a little society, distinguished by 
 
 ^ See “Milner’s Church History,” Vol. II; and “Memoirs of St. 
 Augustine,” by Rev. J. Baillie. 
 
50 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 observance of the method of study, and of the sacra- 
 mental observances and means of grace. A thing so 
 extraordinary in that day as serious attention to study 
 and religious worship, even on the part of a handful of 
 boys, could not pass without observation and ridicule, 
 and young Wesley and his friends, from their regard to 
 the method of study, soon went by the slang epithet of 
 the ^Methodists." John Wesley, who was five years older 
 than Charles, now four years a serious and devout cler- 
 gyman of the Church of England, at this time returned 
 to Oxford as a tutor, and joining the little society of 
 ^ Methodists," became a master-spirit among them. 
 Their earnestness and austerity in religion deepened to 
 a wonderful extent, and exhibited itself in unbounded 
 self-denials, charities, fastings, prayers, and labors, in 
 all which they found no spiritual peace, yet persevered 
 in spite of opposition, defamation, and contempt. 
 
 Four or five years had thus passed over the heads of 
 these young devotees, when an indigent student entered 
 as a servitor j defraying his college expenses by perform- 
 ing menial offices in the rooms of the wealthier young 
 men in the university. This was George Whitefield, 
 then eighteen years of age, both by nature and grace 
 marked as the greatest beyond comparison of those 
 among whom he moved as a menial. He was strongly 
 attracted towards the Wesleys and their associates, by 
 their earnest religious life, but from the poverty of his 
 station dared not intrude himself upon their notice. 
 But having been named to Charles Wesley by a poor 
 woman whom he had employed on an errand of charity, 
 he was sought out, and introduced to the little brother- 
 hood, of which he became one of the most zealous 
 
THE ‘-I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 51 
 
 members. It was among their rules, for example, 
 frequently ^ to interrogate themselves whether they had 
 been simple and recollected, whether they had always 
 prayed with fervor, on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, 
 Saturday noon ; if they had used a collect at nine, 
 twelve, and three o'clock ; duly meditated on Sunday, 
 from three to four, on Thomas a Kempis ; mused on 
 Wednesday and Friday, from twelve to one, on the 
 Passion,' etc. ^ I now began,' says Whitefield, ^ like 
 them, to live by rule, and to pick up every fragment of 
 my time, that not a moment of it might be lost. Like 
 them, having no weekly sacrament at our college, al- 
 though the rubric required it, I received it every Sunday 
 at Christ Church. I joined with them in keeping the 
 Stations, by fasting Wednesdays and Fridays, and left 
 no means unused which I thought would lead me nearer 
 to Christ. By degrees I began to leave off eating fruits 
 and such like, and gave the money I usually spent in 
 that way to the poor. Afterwards I chose the worst sort 
 of food, though my place furnished me with variety. 
 My apparel was mean. I thought it unbecoming a pen- 
 itent to have his hair powdered. I wore woolen gloves, 
 a patched gown, and dirty shoes. It was now suggested 
 to me that Jesus Christ was among the wild beasts 
 when He was tempted, and that I ought to follow His 
 example ; and being willing, as I thought, to imitate 
 Jesus Christ, after supper I went into Christ Church 
 walk, near our college, and continued in silent prayer 
 nearly two hours, sometimes lying on my face, sometimes 
 kneeling upon my knees. The night being stormy, gave 
 me awful thoughts of the day of judgment. The next 
 day I repeated the same exercise at the same place. After 
 
52 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 this tlie holy season of Lent came on^ which our friends 
 kept very strictly, eating no flesh during the six weeks, 
 except on Saturdays and Sundays. I abstained fre- 
 quently on Saturdays also, and ate nothing on the other 
 days (except Sunday) but sage tea without sugar, and 
 coarse bread. I constantly walked out in the cold 
 mornings till one part of my hands was quite black." 
 
 This truly Eomish course of penance and austerity 
 finally exhausted nature, and threw him into an alarm- 
 ing illness which lasted seven weeks. This sickness 
 Whitefield calls, in his journal, ^a glorious visitation." 
 The constant brotherly attentions of his fellow-ascetics, 
 the Wesleys, with their maxims and citations, were in- 
 efiectual now to comfort or direct his mind. His course 
 of externals, with the energy of the natural man which 
 had much to do in prompting and sustaining it, was 
 effectually broken up, and his thoughts communed with 
 his own heart and the word of Grod. He spent much 
 of his time in reading the Greek Testament, and in 
 prayer. He gained more clear, truthful, and affecting 
 views of his own sinfulness, and saw how hopeless was 
 the effort to remove a sense of guilt by religious ob- 
 servances. ^ One day," he informs us, ^perceiving an 
 uncommon drought and noisome clamminess in my 
 mouth, and using things to allay my thirst but in vain, 
 it was suggested to me that when Jesus Christ cried 
 out, ^ I thirst j His sufferings were near over. Upon 
 this I threw myself on the bed and cried out, I thirsty 
 I thirst ! Soon after I perceived my load to go off ; a 
 spirit of mourning was taken from me; and I knew 
 what it was truly to rejoice in the Lord. When I said 
 those words, I thirsty I thirsty my soul was in agony ; 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 53 
 
 I thirsted for a clear discovery of my pardon through 
 Jesus Christ, and the seal of the Spirit. I was at the 
 same time enabled to look up with faith to the glorious 
 Lord Jesus as dying for sinners, and for some time I 
 could not avoid singing psalms wherever I was."" 
 
 These are but specimens of a vast multitude who are 
 laboring after peace and rest ; could we see all who 
 are thus toiling, we should have to look upon hundreds 
 of thousands ; and very fearful indeed would be the 
 anguish revealed. Could we see embodied all the var- 
 ious forms of toil, we should be surprised at the dif- 
 ferent loads under which men are struggling in their 
 efforts to get peace. 
 
 And here Avill be a fitting place to say a word or two 
 with reference to what is popularly known as ^Hhe 
 revival"" in the present day. I quite believe that there 
 are seasons when there are special manifestations of 
 Grod"s Spirit ; and at such seasons I am quite prepared 
 to look for something beyond the experience of what 
 we might call ordinary times."" I quite believe that 
 people may be what is popularly called stricken 
 and that the peace of Grod may be obtained in a mo- 
 ment of time. But, whilst holding all this fully, I can 
 not but object to the violence of many who are known 
 as revival preachers"" (alas ! that we are not all known 
 as revival preachers !) and who in too many instances 
 deal with indiscriminating force. 
 
 It is true that there is but the one j)anacea for all 
 human guilt and woe, and that is the blood of Christ. 
 The Come unto ME "" is the only hope ; but we say, 
 this mighty truth maybe abused as well as used. Yes ! 
 unthinking, unconscience-stricken men may be carried as 
 
54 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 it were off their legs by the torrent of the preacher's 
 energy ; and be swept down the stream of the prevail- 
 ing enthusiasm^ without being able to give a reason for 
 the desire that is within them. We shall never be sur- 
 prised at hearing that some who were thought to be 
 savingly affected at the time of a revival have fallen off ; 
 we firmly believe that a sufficient number will remain 
 as a solid increase to the church of God, to prove that 
 the revival was no myth. It has been well observed, 
 that the proportion of awakenings to conversions, is 
 much the same as of blossoms to fruit. Who disbelieves 
 in the existence or value of the fruit, because it has 
 swelled, and ripened, from amid a quantity of blossoms 
 which have come to nought. 
 
 We believe, we say, that there will be fallings off, and 
 we believe that amongst these will be found many, who 
 had so to speak, only been revived by man — galvanized, 
 but not vivified. They heard a formula about finding 
 peace in Christ but they knew not that they were at 
 war with God — they heard about ^G^est in Christ," but 
 they knew not that they were heavy laden ; they heard 
 of His being a physician, but they knew not that they 
 were sick — they knew not that they were wretched, 
 and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked they 
 thought that they had need of nothing ; they needed 
 to be counselled to buy of Him gold, tried in the fire, 
 that they might be rich ; and white raiment, that they 
 might be clothed ; and that the shame of their naked- 
 ness do not appear, and to anoint their eyes with eye- 
 salve that they might see : Eev. iv., 17, 18. 
 
 There seems to be a crude and sweeping way of 
 dealing with all souls alike, as though because there 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 55 
 
 were but the one disease and the one remedy, therefore 
 all should be treated in exactly the same way. We 
 believe fully in the oneness of the disease and of the 
 remedy ; but Ave believe also in diversities of mental 
 constitutions ; and in processes of the Holy Ghost. It 
 is possible that we may be met with the statement that 
 conscience and faith — the two great elements in con- 
 version — are independent of the mental constitution ; 
 and that, whatever a man's mental constitution may 
 be, he can be converted, if his conscience be smitten, 
 and his faith be stirred — we firmly believe it — we hold 
 that but scant intelligence is necessary to salvation 
 but at the same time, when there is a mental constitu- 
 tion, it will work ; it will show its peculiarities ; it has 
 often to be carried through certain processes ; and we 
 can not agree to ignore this method of the Spirit's deal- 
 ing, because by a sjpeediy act of faith, so many have, 
 thank God, found peace. 
 
 The tendency, in the present day, is to undervalue 
 
 * “ I have seen Jesus,” said a poor imbecile, who for many years had 
 been the terror of his neighborhood, but who under the Divine influenco 
 had become a mild and gentle creature. “ I have seen Jesus,” was his 
 only reply to those who inquired what had induced a change so wonder- 
 ful. And as the years passed on, and the love of Jesus showed itself in 
 his every act, this single testimony to the power of the cross, won many 
 a stouter heart to yield to the blessed Eedeemer. 
 
 “Does Jesus love foolish boy?” asked an idiotic lad of the superin-' 
 tendent of the Idiotic Asylum at Essex Hall. On being told that He 
 did, the poor child could hardly contain himself for joy. “ Jesus love, 
 Jesus love me,” he cried, “ nobody love foolish boy before;” and as his 
 time passed on, the consciousness of the love of Jesus made even the 
 lack lustre eye and grinning face of the boy to assume a look of intelli- 
 gence, and his struggles to subdue the evil propensities of his wayward 
 nature, showed that grace had indeed found a lodgment in his heart. — 
 Revival Incidents. 
 
56 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 such spiritual work as is not rapid ; and to think that 
 souls must be converted as with the speed of a light- 
 ning flash. 
 
 It would be sad indeed for the church of Giod, if 
 there were none who could sympathize with the labor- 
 ing soul^ with its difficulties^ its struggles^ its burdens^ 
 and its tears ; if there were none skilled to enter into 
 the intricacies^ and peculiarities of different minds ; 
 these men are also true evangelists ; with the most pro- 
 fessed revivalists, they cry of Jesus, Come unto me;" 
 but with Him also, they note the ffiabor" and the 
 burden of the soul. These men have to do with souls, 
 which are like Israel in the desert ; often skirting the 
 promised land, and then doubling wearily away, yet 
 entering in at last. It is through much tribulation 
 that many enter into the kingdom of God ; not per- 
 haps the tribulation of outward suffering, but that of 
 mental conflict. 
 
 It is not true, that the simple display of the great 
 truth of free justiflcation by the blood of Jesus, will 
 at all times bring peace to the soul at once; there may 
 be obstacles to the reception of that truth, which re- 
 quire to be cleared away ; there may be processes of 
 the Spirit required for doing that great work ; and this 
 must not be forgotten in the present day, when so many 
 think that the chief truth to be insisted on is, that 
 
 the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence, and the 
 violent take it by force."" 
 
 But whilst we thus plead for j)atience with laboring 
 souls, and for skill rather than violence in their treat- 
 ment, we state our full belief in the truth, that the way 
 to deal with sinners is to set before them a ^present 
 
THE '‘I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 57 
 
 Saviour ; it is the privilege of every Christian to say 
 to the laboring soul^ not^ ^ J esus will forgive yon/ but 
 ^ J esus does forgive you.'’ There is amazing power in a 
 present salvation; as long as we preach, ^ Jesus %cill 
 forgive you we leave the soul with little or nothing to 
 grasp. Why should we say, He loill forgive you 
 Is it when He sheds more blood ? Jesus will never die 
 again. Ah ! you know that. Well ! is it when. He 
 has more love to you ? Why should He ever love you 
 better than He does now ? What reason have you for 
 thinking that He will ever do so ? Oh no ! you don't 
 expect that J esus's love to you will come in some won- 
 derful way ; you think He loves the poor sinner now. 
 
 Well then ; is it when you are better than you are ? 
 Ah ! even at the best, must we not be imperfect still ? 
 
 But is it, when you have repented more ? what a 
 common thought this is ; as if repentance could ever 
 make us worthy ; as if there were ascertain point, on the 
 attainment of which Jesus would meet us, and pour over 
 us His blood. 
 
 The sinner must be told that there is not a particle 
 of hindrance in Christ ; but at the same time we must 
 endeavor to remove the hindrances which lie in him- 
 self ; there is often, as it were, a laying on of the hand, 
 and a saying, ^‘brother Saul," before the scales fall from 
 the eyes. 
 
 But there are other laborers besides those who are 
 seeking for pardon, for justification before God. There 
 are laborers after sanctification ^ after personal holiness, 
 after riddance of the power of the old Adam ; and, to 
 such, as well as to those who are seeking after salvation, 
 
 3 * 
 
58 
 
 THE “I WILL’» OF INVITATION. 
 
 Christ gives this great invitation ; to such He promises, 
 with this great I will/" 
 
 It is highly possible, after having found justifying 
 rest in Christ, to enter upon a state of deep need as 
 regards sanctifying rest. We think we shall not go far 
 wrong, if we say, that this has been the experience of 
 almost every believer that has ever lived. 
 
 Vv^e may quote one instance by way of example ; it 
 is that of Sarah Martin, a well-known name in the roll 
 of God"s most earnest laborers. 
 
 ^^In the autumn of 1810, I was led by my most 
 merciful God to examine the great subject in earnest ; 
 and I became convinced, not only of the truth of Divine 
 revelation, but also that my own crime in having rejected 
 it, embodied guilt capable of every possible manifestation, 
 when not held back by God himself. By the light of the 
 Divine majesty, and by His law, I saw myself condemned, 
 and I felt the justice of my condemnation ; for not only 
 had I violated that righteous and holy law, but I had 
 added to it contempt of the blessed Gospel, and rejection 
 of the Son of God. And yet such was the pity of my 
 God, and such his tenderness to me, that in the imme- 
 diate disclosure of these, my circumstances, he showed 
 to me, as in the same glance, the mediator Jesus Christ, 
 my Saviour, and forgiveness through Him. 
 
 For twelve months after this, my satisfaction was 
 incomplete, and my happiness was held back, not know- 
 ing the extent of the promise, ^ If thou return to the 
 Almighty, thou shalt be built up / Job xxii. 23 ; there- 
 fore with strong confidence in my own imaginary power, 
 and supposing all the while that God required it of me, 
 I sought to advance, less by receiving from the fulness 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 59 
 
 of Jesus^ than by providing something to bring. To this 
 end I sought to satisfy my thirst for religious knowl- 
 edge^ by reading theological works. The Bible was in-^ 
 deed read formally, a few chapters daily, but not hon- 
 ored as the supreme source of divine knowledge ; whilst 
 my first expectation of advance was from religious 
 books, to the reading of which late and early hours 
 were devoted ; and of every sermon I heard, I wrote 
 an outline afterwards. 
 
 About the close of this year, I became increasingly 
 bowed down in spirit with heavy disappointment, toiling 
 hard and reaping no fruit ; for in full acknowledgment 
 and wonder at God's power, in the change which he had 
 wrought in my thoughts, principles, and habits, I had yet 
 believed that it was required of me to take a distinct 
 part in carrying forward the work of religion in my own 
 life : nor was I made happy, until, in Divine compassion, 
 the Almighty removed my error, by making it known to 
 me, that to uphold and prosper Divine life in principle, 
 and in its fruits, was His sovereign prerogative, as exclu- 
 sively belonging to the Holy Spirit, as the first move- 
 ment of the soul from spiritual death ; and that in the 
 plan of the salvation of a sinner, according to his eternal 
 wisdom and purpose, was comprehended all I needed for 
 persevering advance in godliness, as to knowledge and 
 obedience. These happy views were suddenly opened 
 to me whilst reading the ninth and eleventh of Eomans. 
 There, seeing salvation, not in its commencement only, 
 but from first to last, to be entirely of grace, I was made 
 free ; and looking upon a once crucified, but now glorified 
 Saviour, with no more power of my own than the pray^ 
 ing thief had upon the cross, I also found peace. The 
 
60 
 
 THE “I WILL’' OF INVITATION. 
 
 declaration of Jesus Christy ^ It is finished/ was enough^ 
 and I was graciously given to understand^ that contrition, 
 love, and holiness, are the fruits of the Spirit, produced 
 in a believer when looking unto Jesus. I read the 
 chapters referred to much. On one memorable day, the 
 words, ^ It is not of him that willeth, nor of him 
 that runneth, but of God that showeth mercy," were as 
 heavenly music to my heart ; for whilst experience had 
 shown my utter destitution before God, I rejoiced to see 
 my eternal salvation secure on the ground of God"s free 
 and sovereign mercy, and realized the blessed promise, 
 ^ Thou shalt forget thy misery, and remember it as waters 
 that pass away Job xi., 16. The high assurance, that 
 Christ was mine, and with Him ^ all things," has never 
 been withdrawn ; but in all I have been called to resist, 
 or conquer, or endure, or suffer, it has been a light from 
 God not to be obscured, an ocean of comfort from the 
 rock of my strength."" 
 
 If we look a little at the circumstances of a man 
 thus delivered from the load of guilt, we shall easily 
 understand how it is that he enters uj)on a course of 
 subsequent labor. When a sinner finds peace in the 
 blood of Christ, he becomes a new man ; old things are 
 passed away, all things have become new ; he is now a 
 forgiven man ; an illumined man ; and he becomes also 
 pre-eminently an assaulted man. Here are three sources 
 of labor ; and in each of them the soul can find no rest 
 except in Christ. 
 
 For be it observed, that the forgiveness of sins brings 
 with it the impulses of love ; the sap, flowing out of the 
 stem of the vine into the branches, makes them shoot 
 and bud ; and man starts forward into a new set of 
 
THE ‘a WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 61 
 
 activities; he feels he must be doing'' for Christ. Now 
 this new-born activity has to exert itself in the midst of 
 old enemies^ and many obstacles. We must remember 
 that the work of sanctification is progressive ; the Ca- 
 naanite is still in the land ; and forasmuch as we can- 
 not keep quiet^ owing to the impulse of love^ Ave have 
 all our work made as hard as possible to us by our old 
 enemies. Then commences hard toil ; at one moment 
 we are like men carrying a heavy load through a 
 ploughed field ; at another we are like those who have 
 to elbow and push their way through a rude crowd ; and 
 yet, but a little Avhile, and we are like the night- watchers, 
 Avho have to guard a treasure from the midnight thief. 
 Now, we seem to have dropped some good thing, and we 
 have to stoop doAvn and look for it ; now we see some 
 good thing a little farther on, and we have to try to 
 attain to it ; and thus, Ave labor, sometimes all day and 
 all night long too. 
 
 Be it remembered that the Christian is an illumined 
 man ; the light gradually dawning upon his heart and 
 conscience, reveals to him hoAv much has to be purged 
 out, what heights are to be attained ; and as the light is 
 ever growing stronger, so is it ever revealing more evil 
 to be shunned, more holiness to be attained, and the soul 
 responds to the teaching, and at each fresh light a fresh 
 struggle begins. 
 
 We must also bear in mind that a soul thus cir- 
 cumstanced becomes especially assaulted. The strong 
 man armed, who used to keep his goods in safety, Avill 
 not see them taken away from him tamely. Why should 
 he ? I often think how unreasonable Christians are to 
 expect quiet from Satan ! If men are going to take 
 
62 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 away our property^ we try to hinder them ; why should 
 not the devil do the same ? And so his assaults gather 
 especially round the believer, just as the moths and in- 
 sects of the night gather especially around the light. 
 
 All this being the case, can we be surprised, that 
 many a believer is found laboring — laboring after holi- 
 ness of character — after obedience — after spiritual at- 
 tainment — after perfect freedom from the presence of, it 
 may be, some particular sin ? He is delighting in the 
 law of God after the inward man, but he sees another 
 law in his members ; warring against the law of his 
 mind, and bringing him into captivity to the law of sin, 
 which is in his members. [Eom. vii. 22, 23.] 
 
 To such an one, the promise of Christ applies ; to 
 him is the invitation given, Come unto Me all ye that 
 labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'" 
 And in truth there is a need that this should be pointed 
 out to many in the Church of God. After having re- 
 ceived Christ, they seem to lose Christ ; they forget 
 what the Apostle has written in 1 Cor. i. 30. But of 
 Him are ye in Christ Jesus, who, of God, is made unto 
 us wisdom, and righteousness, and sanctification ^ and 
 redemption. Yes, we are forgetting oftentimes that 
 Christ is our sanctification, as well as our justification ; 
 and we are “terrified as to what appearance we shall 
 hereafter make, even though our sins have been forgiven 
 us, so that we are secured from the danger of being lost. 
 
 Dear reader, I know well that the believer is called 
 to labor, that Scripture is full of imagery, which shows 
 Him as one, all whose energies are called forth ; I know 
 he is a warrior [1 Tim. vi. 12], and a racer [Heb. xii. 1], 
 and a workman [2 Tim. ii. 15] ; still, it is his privilege 
 
THE '‘I WILL” OF INVIT ATIOH, 
 
 63 
 
 to have a quiet mind in Christ ; we may be peaceful in 
 our toil ; we may be working^ striving, in the full as- 
 surance that we are accepted in the Beloved/' 
 
 We are very apt to lose ourselves in spiritual toil ; we 
 may easily be led away from Christ, while earnestly en- 
 gaged in it ; we may become so absorbed in the work, as 
 to forget for Whom it is being done. And of this Satan 
 will take immediate advantage ; he will decoy us by 
 holy things away from Christ ; he will make us to be 
 so taken up with our work, that we forget Him. We 
 may thus be led far away from J esus ; we shall in all 
 probability be induced to look at frames, and feelings, 
 and advancement in sanctification, as having something 
 to do with our being saved ; our short-comings will be 
 suggested to us as causes of doubt, as to whether we are 
 the Lord's at all ; and then, perhaps, will ensue a long, 
 weary wandering back again, to find our first great 
 spring and principle of hope — our Lord upon His cross. 
 Is it not well known to every Christian, that one of 
 Satan's grandest aims is, to fix the eye on self ? — to 
 divert the eye /rom self," when a man is living in sin, 
 so that we may not know his vileness — to fix it upon 
 self, when he has escaped from the power of sin, so that 
 he may be brought into a state either of self-righteous- 
 ness or despair. Let us be upon our guard ; whatever 
 we have to do, let us do it as in the presence of our 
 Lord — of the One who said, Come unto me." Thus, 
 and thus only in the great work of Christian life, can 
 we have rest. Yes, every day let us say, Eeturn unto 
 thy Best, 0 my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully 
 with thee Psalm cxvi. 7. Let us continually cast our 
 eyes around, so that on no account the cross be allowed 
 
64 
 
 THE '‘I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 to be out of sight ; and whatever may be our improve- 
 ment in character^ and moral meetness for heaven, let 
 our single hope of the possession of the beauty of 
 holiness/' be the possession of the One perfect in all 
 holiness, even Jesus Christ Himself. 
 
 And now, a word for those who might be described 
 as the heavy laden. 
 
 We must be permitted to look at them as a class by 
 themselves. No doubt, as we have already seen, the 
 laboring ones' are, in many instances, the ^ heavy laden;' 
 but it does not of necessity follow, that all the ^ heavy 
 laden' are ^laborers.' No ! there is something in the 
 human breast, such a crushing weight of unforgiven sin, 
 such a realized consciousness of impotence ; it may be, 
 also, such a sense of the rejection of former calls, that 
 the heart refuses to try ; the weight is so heavy as to 
 crush and paralyze all hope. 
 
 Now Christ Jesus is prepared to deal with such a 
 case as this : as He is ready to set at rest the laboring 
 one, so is He ready to stimulate the energies of the one 
 utterly bowed down ; He will take man in every phase 
 of his need ; and thus there shall doubtless be, through- 
 out eternity, varied specimens of his power. 
 
 I feel quite prepared to preach the full grace of Jesus 
 to such an afflicted soul as this ; let there be but a con- 
 sciousness of sin, and a heavy suffering under it, and 
 then, I believe, that although there be paralysis, still 
 there is life ; that this is a salvable creature ; that he 
 may be, so to speak, brought to J esus, like the palsied 
 man, borne of the four. Moral consciousness is of in- 
 estimable price. 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 65 
 
 The best way to deal with such, is to show them 
 that there is hope. Hope will make them lift up their 
 eyes, and they shall see that there is a cross ; then it 
 may be that they will see that there is One hanging 
 thereon ; then, as they look, perhaps, they will try to 
 drag themselves to Him who says, Come unto me, 
 all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give 
 you rest 
 
 As in this work it is our aim to influence the mind 
 of the reader by facts, as well as by statements of truth, 
 let us here consider the case of a desperate offender, 
 who sought Christ, and found Him, laden though he 
 was with guilt. The story is from the man's own lips, 
 and is to be found in an admirable work on the Eevivals 
 in Ireland.’^ 
 
 I came to Coleraine in 1832, the year of the great plague : 
 God was then pouring out the vials of His wrath on His 
 people, and many, fearing His righteous indignation, were 
 turning to the Lord ; on some the impressions then made 
 were “ the savor of life unto life,” hut when the plague was 
 stayed, and fear of immediate punishment passed, many 
 returned like the “ sow to their wallowing in the mire.” So 
 it was with me. My first great error was absconding from 
 my apprenticeship ; I stole my indenture and went to Belfast; 
 my craft refused to admit me until I returned and served my 
 time. Being of a proud, rebellious spirit I refused, and was 
 led into sin, until completely under the dominion of “the 
 world, the flesh, and the devil.” I went from step to step, not 
 caring where my feet might fall. I soon outstripped my com- 
 panions, and became a leader in debauchery. 
 
 * “ A visit to the Scenes of the Ulster Revivals,” by the Rev. E. K, 
 Elliott, M.A., Rector of Broadwater, Sussex. 
 
66 
 
 THE “ I WILL OF INVITATION. 
 
 I returned to Coleraine, and after a time managed to 
 secure a good business, and have always been living in easy 
 circumstances. I formed a marriage connection with a young 
 woman, the daughter of Christian parents, and went to 
 church with her putting on a hypocritical face ; but her 
 parents were very much against her taking. this step. For a 
 while I continued an outward show of morality, as my wife 
 was pious ; at length I began to long for the pleasures of sin ; 
 I entered into company and became addicted to drink, and 
 the indulgence of this habit led to crimes, the very mention 
 of which makes me shudder. Of no one sin can I altogether 
 acquit myself. An accident caused me to take the life of a 
 fellow-sinner, while engaged in a most unlawful and unholy 
 expedition. Once I took a car and drove down three miles to 
 throw myself into the sea, and was found upon a rock with 
 the waves dashing at my feet. I was noted as a drunkard, 
 having drunk from fifteen to twenty glasses of whiskey at a 
 time, and latterly obliged to have it at my bedside. No 
 modest female would pass my factory after dark, unless pro- 
 tected, on account of the blasphemous language of my tongue, 
 which I indulged in, even in common conversation ; and 
 when giving orders to my men I was always swearing, and 
 was given over to a reprobate mind. 
 
 I often put out my wife and children in the clouds of 
 night undressed. I smashed valuable furniture, and burned 
 wearing apparel, on one occasion to the value of twenty 
 pounds. At length my family left me, their lives not being 
 safe in the same house. Several times, when intoxicated, and 
 under delirium tremens, I attempted their lives ; thank God 
 I never succeeded in inflicting any very serious injury upon 
 them. Whilst separated, I persecuted them in every way 
 which a devilish ingenuity could devise. I affronted them in 
 the public streets, and following them to the house of God, 
 tore them from it. I feared neither God nor man ; indeed I 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF INVITATION. 
 
 67 
 
 seemed as if I was determined to show to what depths of 
 wickedness a man might go. 
 
 I was, I believe, God-forsaken ; and men hated to speak 
 to me even in anger. So low had I fallen, that even my 
 debauched companions would scarcely appear with me in the 
 streets, and my next neighbor, a gentleman of high stand- 
 ing, had given notice to leave his house on account of the 
 annoyance caused by my horrible blasphemy and outrageous 
 conduct. 
 
 During these years (twenty of servitude to the devil) God 
 blessed me in temporal affairs, and knocked at my heart by 
 opening up opportunities for reformation ; and very often did 
 He lay His hand upon me, but Satan had bound me. I was 
 stiff-necked and rebellious, and would not heaiken to God’s 
 calls. On the Sunday previous to my conversion, I went to 
 Portrush, and spent twenty-eight shillings that day in drink. 
 
 When the revival was mentioned, I mocked at it, and 
 joined with some in saying that it was all delusion and hum- 
 bug. I had gone on the previous evening to a meeting on 
 “ Fair Hill,” and disturbed the congregation by my blas- 
 phemy and disorderly behavior. I returned home quite 
 drunk from Portrush, to frighten and keep my wife from 
 public worship. Next week I spent ten pounds in intoxi- 
 cating drink. During this time my son had been under 
 convictions. The second night after the Revival had broken 
 out in Coleraine, he attended a meeting held at the Market 
 Hill, and was ‘‘ stricken” down. A good woman came to me 
 while I was reading the flimsy trash of the day — I think it 
 was “Reynold’s Miscellany” Iliad at that time — she said, “Mr. 
 Haltridge, kneel down and give God thanks, your son is 
 stricken down.” I ordered her out of the way, and went to 
 my bedroom and shut myself up for eight hours. They 
 brought him and laid him on the sofa : I heard his cries. 
 For twenty-four hours no one could tell whether he was dead 
 
68 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF INVITATION. 
 
 or alive ; but when God revealed Himself to him the first 
 thing he said was, God be merciful to my wicked father.” I 
 heard all this. My daughter attended meetings that w^ere 
 held in the schoolroom. She also was “ stricken” down, and 
 cried to God for mercy. 
 
 I was generally under the infiuence of drink, and I drank 
 to excess. I gave plenty to any that would go with me, 
 especially did I delight to lead astray any that were endea- 
 voring to escape the snares of Satan, openly ridiculing their 
 fears of judgment, and defying God’s power. I shamed the 
 most godless ; and any who were bent on attending the house 
 of prayer I endeavored to draw to the public-house. On one 
 occasion I drank a bottle of brandy in thirty minutes. 
 
 On Thursday morning I got out of my bed at three a. m. ; 
 a very unusual circumstance with me, as I generally slept half 
 the day from the effects of drink the night before. My brain 
 was still reeling, when I seemed to be under some irresistible 
 infiuence. I lifted a book, put it in my pocket, but with no 
 aim or purpose ; indeed, I did not then turn to see what it 
 was, or most likely I should have thrown it aside. I wan- 
 dered out of the house in a sort of somnambulism, not caring 
 
 or knowing where I went, I was led to ; here I sat 
 
 down and took out the book — a Church of England Prayer 
 Book — which I opened at Ps. lii. I began to read it, as I 
 would have done anything I might have lifted. My usual 
 reading for years had been the flimsy periodicals and highly- 
 spiced novels of the day ; but God was pleased to open the 
 eyes of my understanding, and thus displayed to me, in its 
 full danger and genuine colors, the ruin which my conduct 
 had prepared for me. At verse 6 it declared, “ Therefore 
 shall God destroy thee for ever; He shall take thee and 
 pluck thee out of thy dwelling, and root thee out of the land 
 of the living.” It seemed as if the words had been written 
 for me, they went like an arrow to my heart. I knew the 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 69 
 
 sentence was just ; I shut the hook and said to myself, “ all 
 is lost, there is no way of escape even if I sought to find one, 
 and what remains for me hut weeping, and wailing, and 
 gnashing of teeth.” 
 
 Having come to this conclusion I determined to drink 
 until I killed myself; and returning to town knocked up a 
 tavern keeper at 4 a. m., and drank all alone until reason and 
 thought were drowned, and conscience wholly silenced. I 
 was taken home completely drunk, and lay until sober ; and 
 again repeated the dose until nine. 
 
 The prayers of my Christian wife were now about to be 
 answered. She was a Christian from her youth up. I have 
 often seen her at the bed-side praying ; yet I have taken the 
 pillow and thrown it at her, and at the same time I have 
 lifted up my arm defying God to do His worst. My wife and 
 daughter requested me to stay with them and go to the 
 Wesleyan Chapel, as the new preacher had arrived on the 
 circuit ; they coaxed and flattered me, offering to give me any- 
 thing I would ask in reason, if I would only stay at home one 
 Sunday, and be social. I had ceased to attend a place of 
 worship for a long time. If I did happen to go, I could not 
 sit out the service, and usually came away in the middle of the 
 discourse ; but my wife felt so powerfully earnest this morn- 
 ing, that she even put her back to the door, and reasoned 
 with me until I promised to go. I went, but cannot say I 
 was more impressed than usual ; I knew my lost state hut had 
 not the ability to amend it, I had often formed good resolu- 
 tions, confirming them with oaths, and as often I had failed 
 to keep them. After service I returned home, took a little 
 drink, and went to the workhouse to see an old servant, who 
 was at the point of death. I was induced to say a few words 
 to her about her salvation, and the efficacy of Christ’s finished 
 work, and God’s love, and the truth of His words. She was 
 quite surprised, as were several persons who were present, to 
 
70 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 hear one like me speak on such a subject, it was the devil 
 quoting Scripture ; but all unknown to myself it was a devil 
 upon the eve of transformation. 
 
 The old woman asked me if I had undergone ‘‘the 
 change,” but shaking my head I said, “I thought it was too 
 late for me.” On my way home I met three old companions, 
 who were about to have a social cup and smoke. They gave 
 me a pressing invitation to join them ; formerly it had re- 
 quired no asking, but unaccountably I now refused, though I 
 had formed no resolutions to do good. I felt quite a new 
 man after resisting the temptation. 
 
 I went again to the house of God with my wife and 
 children. The preacher Avas a very young man just on trial, 
 that being his first attempt at a sermon. He had chosen 
 (Ps. xl. 2.) “ lie brought me up out of a horrible pit, out of 
 the miry clay, and set my feet upon a rock, and established 
 my goings ;” as he told me since, to show forth the goodness 
 and loving-kindness of God in snatching sinners from destruc- 
 tion. He had gone on in this strain for some time, but 
 suddenly stopping, he said he felt himself impelled to describe 
 the horrors of the pit, and misery of the damned through all 
 eternity. In his discourse he repeated the words, “ wrath to 
 come” three times ; he said, “ it will be the motto on the seal 
 that closes the gates of hell, and still through the countless 
 ages of eternity it will be Avrath to come, never ending, still 
 beginning.” These Avords suddenly seized me, and the thought 
 came across my mind, “ am I to be shut up there ?” Big tears 
 started into my eyes ; I saw vividly before me the lake of fire, 
 the smoke already wreathed about me ; I felt as if I Avere 
 sinking down, down, down ; but I had fallen into the hands 
 of a God of mercy. I covered my face Avith my hands, and 
 ground my teeth to smother the prayer that unexpectedly 
 made its escape. Oh, the goodness of God, He could not see 
 me sink Avithout putting forth His hand to save me. Still I 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF INVITATION. 
 
 71 
 
 resisted tlie strivings of the Holy Spirit, and determined not 
 to let my weakness (so I called it) be seen by hundreds, who 
 had heard me laugh at the influence of that Spirit who was 
 now working in me. I opened the pew door, but not one 
 foot would move ; my limbs could not sustain my weight ; I 
 was chained there ; the tears made way, and streamed down 
 my face. When the sermon was over, the agony of my mind 
 was dreadful ; remorse for the past, and fear for the future, 
 gave me to taste the torments of eternity, A hymn was given 
 out to be sung. (It was the same hymn that was blessed to 
 the conversion of an actress.*) I had stood up and was hold- 
 ing on by the pew, my book trembling in my hands, but at 
 the second line I was prostrated, and was quite unconscious 
 for two hours, reclining on my wife’s knees ; I was sensible 
 of a dreadful darkness — a crushing . sensation seemingly upon 
 the chest and heart ; I can give no idea of the agony I en- 
 dured, and the kind of pain I suffered. Thank God the day- 
 spring dawns after the darkest hour of midnight. By degrees 
 I returned to consciousness, under a deep conviction of my 
 undone state, my need of pardon, and a desire to flee from 
 that wrath to come which had so impressed me, and a faint 
 conviction that God would not cast me out. 
 
 I was again and again directed to cast my burden on the 
 Lamb of God, who “ loved me and gave Himself for me.” I 
 heard the blessed words, “ Him that cometh to Me I will in 
 no wise cast out and I knew that through Him alone could 
 I make my peace with God. I tried to ask in faith, “ Open 
 Thou mine eyes that I may behold wondrous things out of 
 Thy law,” but I could not lay the unction to my soul at once. 
 Sev^eral friends made intercession for me, but I found no con- 
 
 * “ Depth of mercy ! can there bo 
 
 Mercy still reserved for me ? 
 
 Can my God His wrath forbear ? 
 
 Me the chief of sinners spare?” 
 
72 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 solation. One of those who prayed for me was a boy of four- 
 teen years of age, named John Hall. He had found the Lord 
 himself, and he was crying, “ Lord^ reveal Thyself to Mr, 
 Haltridge,^'' My son then took one arm and a kind friend the 
 other, and helped me home. I was not able to waflv ; my 
 feet refused to carry me ; on reaching home I was laid on that 
 sofa on which, a month before, my son was laid. That son 
 now pleaded with God on my behalf, and repeated the prom- 
 ises to repenting backsliders, but the time was not yet fully 
 come. I went alone to my chamber, and wrestling hard with 
 God, urged all His promises. I prayed that He would grant 
 me His Holy Spirit, to endue me with wisdom, and reveal to 
 my understanding, “ Christ as the hope of glory.” I prayed 
 and read at intervals till four the next morning. Mind and 
 body were exhausted in the awful struggle, when Christ the 
 Physician applied the balm of Gilead to my weary soul. The 
 “ Sun of Righteousness had risen with healing in His wings,” 
 and streaming the light into every corner of my heart, spoke 
 comfort with the words, “ Arise, go in peace, thy faith hath 
 made thee whole.” Sorrow had endured for a night, joy came 
 with the morning light. 
 
 I felt that sin had no longer dominion over me ; the stronger 
 than Satan had entered in to divide the spoil ; my chains fell 
 off ; my heart was fixed ; the salvation prepared by God in 
 Christ, before the face of all people, had appeared to me. I 
 knew my pardon was sealed in the Redeemer’s blood ; and I 
 could read my title clear to a mansion in the skies, for “ the 
 mouth of the Lord had spoken it.” I now felt such love to 
 my fellow-men, that I thought I could stand on a mountain 
 top, and take the whole world in my arms ; and as Christ told 
 His disciples to begin preaching at Jerusalem, so, when called 
 upon, I gladly consented to speak at meetings held at the place 
 which had been the scene of my former life. 
 
 It is now two months since I knew Jesus to bo the trutk 
 
THE “I WILL” OF INVITATION. 
 
 73 
 
 and the life,” and every day He grows more precious to my 
 soul. I feel He is able to sustain me. I retain that conscious- 
 ness of pardon and acceptance. I have found Christ to be 
 “ all in all,” and by the help of God’s Holy Spirit I have been 
 enabled to “ put off the old man,” to condemn “ all vain things 
 that charmed me most and though “ when I would do 
 good, evil is present with me,” I trust in God for grace and 
 mercy to help me in every time of need. 
 
 When we read a case like this^ need any heavy laden 
 man despair ? Need we despair^ who desire to draw 
 sinners to Christ out of the very deepest pits ? not so ! 
 The great I will’’ of Jesus meets all the need, does all 
 the work ; He speaks it still, I will give you rest.” 
 
 And oh ! dear readers, if there be indeed any neces- 
 sity for urging upon you this coming to your Lord ; let 
 me beseech you by the earnestness of Christ. Was He 
 in earnest to save, and shall not we be in earnest to be 
 saved ? Did He even sweat blood in the fearful hour 
 of His agony, and drain the cup to its dregs, rather than 
 that it should pass from Him, and with it the salvation 
 of a ruined world ? Then let it be seen that this bread 
 of life has not been given to the dogs, or this pearl of 
 great price been cast before swine. No ! but let the mul- 
 titude of toil-worn and heavy-laden men, who respond 
 to this invitation of their Lord, show that they are alive 
 to their best interests, that they appreciate the deeds of 
 the mount, the garden, and the cross ; that they are of 
 the number of those upon whom the torch of wisdom has 
 thrown its brightest beam, and upon whom the might of 
 celestial strength has been unmistakably brought to bear. 
 
 Let our own necessities, which press upon us from 
 every side, urge us nearer and nearer to the Christ, until 
 
 4 
 
74 
 
 THE I WILL ” OF INVITATION. 
 
 we have touched Him^ and felt^ by the benefit which we 
 ourselves have received^ that virtue has gone out of Him. 
 Let us think of the glory of the results^ and let that, 
 as with a hand of light, beckon us onward to the cross. 
 Ho longer shall we be poor, pitiful cowards, always in 
 bondage unto death ; but our load having been re- 
 moved, w^e shall spring upwards in our expectation of 
 everlasting life. Ho more shall the judgment and eter- 
 nity be words rendered awful by the fear of impending 
 torment, but we shall learn to v/eave their cyphers into 
 our hopes ; no more shall we be the victims of a low 
 task-master, who hastes us to fulfill our daily task of 
 unreasonable toil, but we shall be the servants of the 
 Most High God, and children ofthe Heavenly Father, the 
 citizens of the celestial city, and the heirs of eternal glory. 
 
 If any reader of these lines is delaying, let him re- 
 member that time is speeding on ; and that if this work 
 be not done now, it may never be done at all. While 
 graves are being dug, and years are rushing past, almost 
 as quickly as the lightnings fiash athwart the sky, is this 
 a time to be careless, to slumber, and to sleep ? 
 
 Eemember that hell is up in arms to oppose you ; 
 that heavy yokes are being forged there to bind you, 
 each year, more surely to your ruin. Remember that 
 what a spiritual power puts on, that can a spiritual 
 power alone take off ; and that the bonds of Satan can 
 be severed only by the Christ. 
 
 The remembrance of this, if sanctified by the Holy 
 Ghost, will bring you to the cross, where your burden 
 shall be rolled from your shoulders ; and where, from 
 having been the slaves of sin, you shall be numbered 
 amongst the freemen of the Lord. 
 
“ I Will " of ictc|3tioir. 
 
John vi., 37. 
 
 “ Him that comcth to Mo I will in no wise cast out.” 
 
 0 grander^ no lovelier sight could wo desire to 
 see^ than that of the multitude of those who 
 have been saved through the mighty influence 
 of this verse. Millions upon millions are now 
 ill joy unutterable, who in the power of this single 
 sentence sprang upwards from the dust, Avith a new 
 light in their dull despairing eye ; with a fresh hope in 
 their withered hearts ; Avith the belief that they could 
 be saved, that they Avere privileged to grasp the cross 
 on earth, the crown in heaven. 
 
 If the imagination be overwhelmed at the thought 
 of this multitude, arrayed in light ineffable ; the Avon- 
 der is increased at the revelation of the materials of 
 which that multitude is composed. These are they that 
 have come out of great tribulation, and made Avhite 
 their robes in the blood of the Lamb. Here are des- 
 perate offenders ; some, Avhose hands had been reddened 
 by their brother's blood ; some, whose lips had been 
 
78 
 
 THE ^'1 WILL” OF KECEPTION. 
 
 the mouthpiece of the evil One for all blasphemy ; 
 some^ who had been ringleaders of all assaults upon the 
 faith ; well known were they to the angels ; well known 
 to their fellow men as desperate characters, beyond all 
 human reach, all human hope ; no common truth would 
 have had j^ower to lift them, in the day when they were 
 struck by the Holy Ghost to the earth, and when their 
 sins leaped demon-like upon them, to strangle the 
 faintest expectation which might have risen in their 
 hearts, of there being a chance for such as they ; when 
 lo ! for them, in their low estate, mercy provided in 
 this no wise'' a cord long enough to reach them in 
 their low abyss, and strong enough to bear their weight; 
 a cord, not to bind, but to deliver ; they grasped it ; 
 they were drawn forth into light and life ; and they 
 were saved. 
 
 In that glorious crowd, are doubtless some, who were 
 peculiarly buffeted of the devil ; he sifted them like 
 wheat ; he tried with mighty strokes to beat them 
 down from the cross, and with cunning arguments to 
 reason them out of hope ; many a time did he almost 
 cast them into despair, and break their hearts ; and it 
 seemed as though it needed but the finishing stroke, 
 and then they were his own ; when lo ! he was met and 
 foiled — not by mighty arguments ; not by extraordinary 
 revelations ; but by these simple words ; the Spirit 
 shone upon the ^^no wise" of Christ ; the poor afflicted 
 soul beheld the vast circumference of its sweep ; the 
 sinner saw that it embraced himself ; he also clung 
 tight ; and though he was dragged through many waters, 
 and buffeted by doubts and fears, still he held on, until 
 at last, he was landed safe upon the heavenly shore. 
 
THE ‘a WILL” OF RECEPTION. 
 
 79 
 
 Here also, in this glorious crowd, there will be found 
 many upon whom other texts appeared to fail; but in 
 this one they found life. The positiveness, the sim- 
 plicity of this declaration, became the means of their 
 salvation. It may be, that they put other truths away 
 from them, as being too high for their understandings ; 
 perhaps they hedged them round with so many limita- 
 tions that they thought they could never come up to all 
 these requirements and demands ; but this struck home 
 to them as the very one that suited their case ; they 
 learned to understand all other Scriptures by this ; they 
 entered into the various mysteries of truth through this 
 plain homely door ; they themselves learned in no wise 
 to deny their Lord, but to be steadfast and immovable 
 for Him ; because He would in no wise be shaken in, 
 or beaten off from, His love to them. 
 
 Oh ! what desperation of faith was seen in some, as 
 they clutched this truth with a dying grasp ; their des- 
 tiny for eternity hanging upon a word ; oh ! what calm 
 composure was seen in others, as for long days and 
 nights of weariness, they lay expecting from hour to 
 hour their summons into the presence of the King. No 
 fears, no anxious thoughts had they ; they rested on a. 
 message from above ; they knew in whom they be- 
 lieved ; they remembered that these Avords came from 
 One Avho could not mistake or lie, and conscious on 
 their part that they had simply come to Christ, all sin- 
 ful as they were, they had peace in the consciousness 
 that He would never send them away. 
 
 ^^For all I have preached, or written,'" said Mr. 
 James Durham, there is but one Scripture I can 
 remember, or dare grip to ; tell me, if I dare lay the 
 
80 
 
 THE ‘a WILL” OF IlECEPTIOX. 
 
 weight of my salvation upon it, ^ Him that cometli to 
 me, I ivill in no ivisc cast out'‘? His friend replied, ^ You 
 may indeed depend upon it, though you had a thousand 
 salvations at hazard/ A gleam of joy lighted up the 
 soul of the dying saint, under the radiance of which he 
 was ushered into the glory and brightness of eternity/^ 
 I have no hope in what I have been or done,^' said 
 Dr. Doddridge on his dying bed, Yet I am full of con- 
 fidence ; and this is my confidence, there is a hope set 
 before me. I have fied, I still fly for refuge to that hope. 
 In Him I trust, in Him I have strong consolation ; and 
 shall assuredly be accepted in this beloved of my soul."’^ 
 The Eev. Kichard Baxter, when near the close of his 
 course, exclaimed, I have p)ains ; there is no arguing 
 against sense ; but I have peace, I have peace.'' You 
 are now drawing near your long desired home,' said 
 one, I believe, I believe," was his reply. When asked. 
 How are you he promptly answered, Almost 
 WELL !" To a friend Avho entered the chamber he said, 
 I thank you, I thank you, for coming." Then fixing 
 his eyes upon him he added, The Lord teach you 
 how to die !" These were his last words. 
 
 The Kev. Eobert Bruce, having lived to a venerable 
 old age, one morning, after breakfasting with his family, 
 reclined awhile in his chair, silently meditating. Sud- 
 denly he spoke, Daughter, hark ! doth not my master 
 call me ?” Asking for his Bible, he perceived that his 
 eyes were dim, and that he could no longer read its 
 precious words. ^^Find for me," said he, ^Hhe eighth 
 chapter of Eomans, and lay my finger on the passage ; 
 ^ I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels, 
 nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor 
 
THE “I WILL” OF KECEPTION. 
 
 81 
 
 things to come^ nor height^ nor depths nor any other 
 creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of 
 God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord/ Now is my 
 finger placed upon these blessed words Being as- 
 sured that it was, he said, Then God bless you, God 
 bless you all, dear children : I have refreshed myself 
 with you this morning, and shall be at the banquet of 
 my Saviour, ere it is night/" And thus he died. 
 
 During seven weeks of Eomaine"s severe suffering, 
 a fretful or murmuring expression never escaped his lips; 
 but often would he say, ^ How good is God to me ! 
 What entertainments and comforts does He give me ! 
 Oh, what a prospect of glory and immortality is before 
 me ! He is my God, through life, through death, and 
 through eternity !" When inquiries were made how he 
 felt, his general reply was, ^ As well as I expect to be 
 this side heaven." To a brother minister he said, ^ I do 
 not repent of one word that I have printed or preached 
 on faith in Jesus, for I now feel the blessed comforts of 
 that precious doctrine." ^ I have lived," said he to an- 
 other, ^ to experience all I have spoken, and all I have 
 written, and I bless God for it." Afterwards he ob- 
 served, ^ I knew the doctrines I preached to be truths, 
 but now, I experience them to be blessings." As he lay 
 waiting for his dismission, the friend in whose house he 
 was, said to him, H hope, sir, you now find the salva- 
 tion of Jesus inestimably precious to you." ^ Yes," he 
 replied with a feeble voice, ^ He is precious to my soul." 
 ^ More precious than rubies," said his friend. He caught 
 the word, and completed the scriptural idea, ^ and all 
 that can be desired is not comparable to Him.""" 
 
 The one great truth is all powerful everywhere. 
 
 4 >:^ 
 
82 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF RECEPTION. 
 
 There Avas once a caravan crossing to the north of India^ 
 and numbering in its company a godly and devout mis- 
 sionary. As it passed along, a poor old man was over- 
 come by the heat and labors of the journey, and sinking 
 down Avas left to perish on the road. The missionary 
 saw him, and kneeling down at his side, Avhen the rest 
 had passed along, Avhispered into his ear, Brother, 
 Avhat is your hope The dying man raised himself a 
 little to reply, and Avith a great effort succeeded in an- 
 SAvering, ^^The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from 
 all sin \” and immediately expired with the effort. The 
 missionary Avas greatly astonished at the answer, and in 
 the calm and peaceful appearance of the man, he felt 
 assured he had died in Christ. How, or where, he 
 thought, could this man, seemingly a heathen, have got 
 this hope ? And as he thought of it, he observed a 
 piece of paper grasped tightly in the hand of the corpse, 
 Avhich he succeeded in getting out. What do you think 
 Avas his surprise and delight, Avhen he found it Avas * a 
 single leaf of the Bible, containing the first chapter of 
 the first Epistle of John, in Avhich these Avords occur ! 
 On that page the man had found the gospel. 
 
 And Avhat this verse has done, it yet can do ; it can 
 repeat its triumphs ; it can descend into the abyss, and 
 bring up more souls ; it can enter the arena of conflicts, 
 doubts, and fears, and calm more troubled hearts; it can 
 smooth more dying pillows, and gild the horizon of 
 more closing days. If you, dear reader, have not yet 
 found rest and peace in Christ, may these Avords now 
 give them to you ; and if you have, then take the Avords 
 into your lips, and evangelize Avith them the vilest of 
 the vile ; go everywhere ; go to CA^ery one ; go Avith 
 
THE ‘-I WJLL” OF RECEPTION. 
 
 83 
 
 mighty hope ; go Avith a consciousness of superhuman 
 power ; go in the strength of this great declaration of 
 your Lord ; see in every sinner a soul that may ho 
 saved ; and proclaim your Saviour in His own great 
 words^ Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast 
 out 
 
 And now, to look a little more closely into these 
 Avords : observe how 
 
 Out Lord deals ivitli the individual. In all individu- 
 ality there is a concentration of poAver. The sinner has 
 here this special advantage, that he need not look upon 
 himself merely as one of a class, but as an individual. 
 
 It is precisely thus that Jesus Avishes to deal with the 
 poor sinner ; He wishes to take him in his individual 
 wretchedness, depravity, and fears, and to apply Himself 
 to them all. We knoAv that men often hide themselves 
 in their class f a threat or a promise may belong to 
 their class, and yet not to them ; many a one says, 
 
 yes ! that promise is for sinners, but not for me/' 
 
 Now, here Jesus seems to take poor sinners indi- 
 vidually ; it is as though he called us all aside, one by 
 one, and said, ‘‘1 have something to say unto thee, and 
 to thee, and thee it is true, Avhen we come to com- 
 pare notes, Ave shall find that He has perhaps said 
 exactly the same to each of us, Him that cometh to 
 Me I Avill in no Avise cast out but each heart Avill 
 have heard the Avord Avith poAver, saying, ^^'twas said 
 to me, to me.'' 
 
 And oh ! what a comfort it is, that the Saviour 
 enters into our individuality ; into each one's need, each 
 one's position, each one's hopes and fears. When deep 
 
84 
 
 THE 1 WILL OF EECEPTIOX. 
 
 solemnities of eternal things are realized, we never can 
 content ourselves with generalities ; we feel, I must be 
 saved, or I must be lost ; we think but little of our- 
 selves in our j)osition as belonging to a class. Jesus 
 meets us in our need, Jesus says, I come to thee that 
 thy interests may be secured, that thy soul may be 
 saved.'" And hence we are warranted in our hours of 
 deep-felt personal necessity in coming to Christ, even 
 though we have not deep knowledge of the abstract 
 nature of sin ; though ours be only sirnjile (and perhaps 
 very imperfect) knowledge of our own sin. Ever so 
 little knowledge of our own personal necessity is more 
 to the point, than ever so much knowledge of necessity 
 in general. Jesus wants an individual sufferer to apply 
 to Him ; one smarting, sorrowing, fearing ; and him 
 He will not cast out." 
 
 And now, what is contained in this promise to the 
 individual sinner ? If Jesus cast him out, what will 
 it be out from what will it be out to ? 
 
 Jesus will not cast out the poor sinner from the 
 'place of safety he seeks. Mark that panting, sweating 
 man, who rushes along with almost unearthly speed ; 
 his nostrils are dilated, his eyes are blood shot, and the 
 veins stand out like knotted cords upon his brow ; on, 
 on he bounds, as though he had winged feet ; as though 
 to win this race Avere life ; and to lose this race were 
 death. And, in truth, it is a race of life or death ; this 
 is the man that has killed his neighbor unawares ; and 
 behind him, bounding after him with eager face and 
 vengeful arm, is the avenger of blood ; there is but little 
 distance between them ; let that be but overpast ; and 
 
THE ‘‘I WILL” OF RECEPTION. 
 
 85 
 
 then^ with one fatal leap the avenger springs upon his 
 prey, and his sword is crimsoned with his blood. On, 
 on they speed ; the man upon whose hands are the stains 
 of his neighbor's blood nears the gate of the city of ref- 
 uge, and inside that gate are eager eyes watching the 
 event of this race for life ; thence come inspiring shouts ; 
 there are ready arms to pull in the runner, if he should 
 fall exhausted upon the threshold, ere he takes the last 
 spring Avhich will put him far beyond the avenger's 
 reach. Whose are these eager eyes, these ready arms ? 
 They belong to men who have themselves found refuge 
 in the city ; and can we imagine for a moment that with an 
 iron grasp these watchers would seize the new-come refugee 
 and throw him out to the avenger, that he might wreak 
 his vengeance, and shed the still boiling blood upon the 
 ground ? Oh no ! they never would cast him out ; and 
 shall they thus receive to refuge one who comes to their 
 city to save the life of the body ; and shall Jesus cast 
 out one that comes to Him to save the life of the soul ? 
 Not so! Jesus will never cast out from the place of 
 safety the one who speeds to it to save his life. Well 
 does he know the dread importance of this race : well 
 does he know the value of the soul ; He has no arm 
 outstretched to dash us back upon the sword point of 
 the avenger ; He has an arm outstretched to draw us in 
 to Himself ; never did those who crowded the gate of 
 the city of refuge receive another escaped one, added to 
 their company, with such pleasure as J esus receives an- 
 other added to His. He sees an individual imperiled ; 
 He sees him rush for his life ; He feels him touch 
 Himself, the portal of life ; He accepts, He shields. He 
 saves ; the avenger of blood in vain demands his prey ; 
 
86 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF RECEPTION. 
 
 the voice of Jesus sends him disappointed and empty 
 away^ Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast 
 out/^ 
 
 Nor will Jesus cast out the sinner from the 'position 
 he thus takes up. We cannot come to Jesus without 
 taking up a high position ; indeed so high a one, that 
 if it entered into a sinner’s sober calculations, he would 
 in all probability be alarmed, and shrink back from 
 coming to Christ at all. 
 
 None can come to Christ savingly, without entering 
 into union with Him. Jesus knows that ; and know- 
 ing it, still gives the poor sinner the full guarantee his 
 trembling soul desires. It has often happened, that the 
 men who have come to Christ to be saved, and who in 
 this act, have had their sin and unworthiness before 
 them, have thought of tarrying there, never dreaming 
 of advancing into fellowship with their Lord. They did 
 not know what being ^ received^ or ^ saved’ involved ; 
 and when j)ressed on by the impulses of divine life, they 
 thought, ^ it is presumption in me to expect this.’ The 
 courtier w^ho is invited to the j^ublic receptions of his 
 sovereign, could not be surprised if he were turned out, 
 should he be found intruding into the private apartments 
 of the royal family ; to be a member of the court is one 
 thing, to be a member of the family is another. It is to 
 belong to this latter that all are destined who come to 
 Jesus ; He gives them, as it were, the keys of the private 
 chambers of his heart ; He will never turn them out if 
 they venture there. Oh ! that we were less satisfied 
 with the outer courts of safety ; oh ! that we ventured 
 into the inner chamber of His love ; for what, dear 
 
THE “I WILL” OF LECEPTION. 
 
 87 
 
 reader^ have we been saved ? Is it merely to remain 
 iinslain ? Is our bare life to form the highest trophy of 
 the blood of Christ ? Is this all that is to be said of the 
 saints, ^^The devil could not Idll them Can that Evil 
 One mock us and say, Aha ! Christ has you, but He 
 will never make much of you, — try to get into closer 
 communion with Him, and you'll soon see that He will 
 resent the liberty, and send you away." The little 
 promise before us rescues us from this ; it penetrates 
 beyond the outer courts of atonement, into the inner 
 sanctuary of communion. Make bold, dear reader, to 
 enter into Christ ; remember that you are accepted in 
 the Beloved," — not only pardoned," but accepted ;" 
 not only received into life, but into sonship. Let us go 
 deep into Christ ; he will in no wise cast us out. 
 
 And if Jesus were to cast us out, what would He cast 
 us to ? To rest upon our own resources ; and that. He 
 knows well, would be our death. In Him is life, and 
 out of Him is death ; if Christ cast us out, or repel us. 
 He deliberately hands us over to ruin. The enemies of 
 our soul are hard by, ready to pounce upon us, and make 
 an end of us, the moment they ascertain that He will 
 have nothing to do with us. Can we imagine the 
 blessed Jesus thus deliberately thrusting any earnest 
 soul into the very jaws of death ? Can we imagine His 
 deliberately giving the devil such a terrible and eternal 
 triumph as this ? Oh ! if J esus were to cast out a single 
 soul that came to Him, in repentance and belief, I can 
 well believe that that soul would henceforth be the 
 greatest jihenomenon of the land of perdition— the 
 strangest curiosity of hell. All would understand how 
 
88 
 
 THE WILL'» OF RECEPTION. 
 
 the murderer and adulterer fell into the land of woe ; 
 how the impenitent and the unbelieving dropped into 
 the lake of fire ; but how came this man there ? Who 
 can solve the riddle of his being damned ? There is 
 not a devil that would not look upon him with wonder ; 
 the arch-fiend himself would confess, that this man's 
 being lost, was a greater mystery than all others being 
 saved ; the devil's choicest treasure would be this re- 
 jected soul. 
 
 And cannot we well imagine the use he would make 
 of it : how he would make himself master of all the 
 circumstances of its rejection ; how he would chronicle 
 carefully all its sighs and tears — its timid trial, and its 
 fierce repulse ; and then, how he would go forth to poor 
 perishing sinners, and tell them, that he knew for a fiict, 
 that Jesus did not receive every one that came to Him. 
 There is no instance on record of Christ's having done 
 this ; if there were, we can easily understand how the 
 Evil One would be continually bringing it up, preaching 
 all sorts of sermons upon it, writing all sorts of treatises 
 upon it ; that would be his favorite subject ; he would 
 always preface it with it is written he would give 
 out the text very plainly, much more so than some min- 
 isters give out their texts, so that every one might know 
 Avhere exactly to turn in the sacred volume, and find out 
 for himself the fact, that Jesus sent a poor distressed 
 and believing man empty away. Blessed be God, the 
 great enemy of souls can show no rejection of any one in 
 need, on the part of Christ. 'Tis true, he could, even at 
 the worst, point to but this single case ; but this one 
 would do for him ; what has been," he Avould say, 
 
 may be ; 'tis true, this is the first, but perhaps it is 
 
THE “I WILL” OF BECEPTION. 
 
 89 
 
 not the last ; what happened to another, may happen 
 to you ; so, in your vaunted promise, you have no 
 ground for hope/' 
 
 Oh ! how Satan would work that possihility of our 
 being lost ; no matter how strongly we insisted upon 
 the improhahility of it, he would pertinaciously work 
 the possibility j whispering continually into our ears, 
 
 But you may be ; you may be !" 
 
 Thanks be to Grod, we may meet him, dear reader, in 
 the power of these words, him," and in no wise 
 sovereign grace has made this proclamation for poor sin- 
 ners ; we may live on it ; we may die on it ! Brother, 
 brother," said the Rev. Legh Richmond when he was 
 dying, strong evidences, nothing but strong evidences 
 will do at such an hour as this. I have looked here, 
 and looked there for them — all have failed me ; and so 
 I cast myself on the sovereign, free, and full grace of 
 Grod in the covenant by Jesus Christ ; and there, 
 brother, (looking at me with a smile of tranquillity 
 quite indescribable) there ^ I have found peace." Even 
 so ; the free grace of the promise, is just our only lioj^e. 
 
 What a blessed thought it is, that Jesus will in no 
 wise" cast out the one who comes to Him. The figure 
 used here is a litotes — ov yrj — two negatives, equal to 
 
 In no wise" — No ! No !” Such words falling from 
 the lips of Jesus, who was the way, the truths and the 
 life," are of inexpressible importance to us. It is as 
 though Jesus said, Such a thing is not even to be 
 spoken about ; it does not come within even the range of 
 possibility much less probability ; under no circumstances 
 could such an event take place." We know that circum- 
 
90 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF RECEPTIOISr. 
 
 stances often prove too strong for the sternest resolutions 
 of men; butJesus is above all circumstances; nothingbut 
 a deliberate act of His will would make Him hand over 
 the poor sinner to his ruin ; and the whole testimony 
 of His promises^ His life^ His cross secure to us His will. 
 
 What V’ says Satan^ will He not cast you out 
 when He finds how feeble your faith is ?” ov iiif' 
 
 No ! No 
 
 Will He not send you off when He has had a close 
 sight of you^ and sees how horribly bad you are 
 oi No ! No 
 
 Will He not say that He will have no more to do 
 with you, when He finds how hard it is to make any 
 thing out of you ov j-iTf' — No ! No 
 
 Will He not get tired of you, and say, ^ I fil look 
 for more promising subjects on which to work ?' ov 
 ! No 
 
 ^^No ! No V’ We will enter into no further argu- 
 ment with Satan than this : we will meet him with 
 Scripture, after the example of our Lord : whatever 
 cogitations and reasonings we may have in our own 
 minds, there is no need of our enlarging upon them to 
 him : No ! No V is quite enough ; He will in no 
 wise'' cast us out. 
 
 And in truth, though we do not enter upon them 
 with Satan, we know of many considerations why the 
 Lord Jesus will not cast us out. 
 
 Christ’s oion feelings engage Him not to do this 
 dreadful deed. See hovr tenderness marks all His words 
 to the poor, weak, and sorrowful ones ; and could He 
 ever bring Himself to send them away, after having 
 
THE ‘a WILL” OF RECEPTION. 
 
 91 
 
 raised their hopes, and invited them to come ? Did He 
 not weep over Jerusalem ? Did He not mourn over the 
 sheep who were without a shepherd ? Did He not love 
 the young man who came unto Him ? Did He not say 
 that He would not break the bruised reed, or quench 
 the smoking flax ; and that He did not come to con- 
 demn the world, but to save ? Christ would do a 
 violence to His own feelings, if He turned the poor 
 trusting sinner ofi*. Yes ! where would his love for 
 souls be, when He did this dreadful deed ? How could 
 He fashion His lips to pronounce the awful words ? 
 How could he look sternly, and coldly, upon the poor 
 creature, that stood before Him, ready to see life in His 
 smile, and death in his frown ? Surely all, all would 
 be changed, if Jesus could do this ; this must be a dif- 
 ferent Jesus from the one who used to speak lovingly 
 to, and look lovingly on, sinners when He was upon 
 the earth ; His heart must have been changed at His 
 ascension, but we know that it was not ; Jesus is the 
 same yesterday, to-day, and for ever and His very 
 feelings are part of our guarantee for life. 
 
 But we can understand how Jesus would say, Com- 
 mon Justice forbids my doing this ; I have pledged my 
 word to the sinner ; I have induced him to venture all 
 on me ; I have declared, that ^ he that believeth shall 
 be saved J I have stripped the poor sinner of every 
 other plea ; I have left him nothing to hope for from 
 himself ; I must perform to him my word/' 
 
 And then, would not Jesus also say, the whole tenor 
 of my life and death forbids this/' Did I not die, the 
 just for the unjust to bring sinners unto God." Was it 
 not for carrying out this great design that I lived and 
 
92 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF RECEPTION. 
 
 died ? To what purpose have I lived and died^ if I am 
 to cast out any who come to me for life ? 
 
 We cannot imagine the Lord Jesus Christ frustrating 
 tlie design of his own life and death ; deliberately 
 making void the bloody sweat in Gethsemane^ and the 
 bitter agonies of Calvary ; we cannot imagine His 
 coming short of the full fruition of His sufferings, which 
 He must do, if He reject a single soul, really willing to 
 be saved in His own way. Christ's life and death have 
 a price in His own eyes, as well as in those of the 
 Father, and of a soul. 
 
 And would not the lohole counsel and loill of the 
 Father he overthrown^ if J esus cast out any poor believing 
 soul ? What was the counsel and will of the Father but 
 this, that there should be a highway made for sinners to 
 come back to Himself ; that whosoever believed should 
 be saved ; that He Himself should bo honored, and 
 glorified, in the freeness of the terms, in the eternal life 
 of those by whom they were accepted ; in whom but 
 sinners is that counsel to be carried out ? and how is it 
 to be carried out, but by their being certainly received ? 
 All, all conspire to secure the safety of the man that 
 comes ; a multitude of reasons, not one of which can 
 be gainsaid, all confirm to us the word, ^^Him that 
 cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out." 
 
 Let none be deterred by considerations of old slights; 
 Jesus will never mention them. Where was He so 
 slighted as in Jerusalem ? And yet when he sent 
 forth His apostles to evangelize the world, He said, 
 
 beginning at Jerusalem." 
 
 Let none be deterred by considerations of gpresent sin- 
 
THE “I WILL” OF EECEPTION. 
 
 93 
 
 fulness, Jesus knows your nature ; He came ^‘^not to 
 call the righteous hut sinners to repentance f He takes 
 you^ in your poor sinful nature^ just as you are ; and 
 will gradually make you what He would have you he. 
 Leave it to Him^ hy His Spirit^ to make you what He 
 would have you he ; you can no more sanctify, than 
 you can justify yourself ; with present sinfulness, and 
 present sins, just come to Him. 
 
 Behold the universality of Christ’s cures on earth ; 
 whom did He ever send away unhealed ? Not one ; 
 were any closed eyc'S left unopened ? were any deaf ears 
 left unstopped ? was any arm left shrivelled ? was any 
 foot allowed to halt ? who was sent away unfed ? who 
 uncleansed notone! they gathered to Him in crowds; 
 they came to Him one hy one ; and He helped, and 
 blessed them all. And shall it ever he said, that He 
 did all this for the body, hut that He leaves undone the 
 greater work for the soul ? Shall it he said, ^ He never 
 sent any one away unhealed in the flesh, He did send 
 some one away unhealed in the soul ?' Oh no 1 Ave 
 rise from the less to the greater ; from the body to the 
 soul ; and we hear the voice proclaiming for man’s 
 higher needs. 
 
 Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast 
 out.” 
 

 ot J*>rt,** ftKW?9 ‘)H ' 
 
 »f>}{»f. dfl'.*'; »!JaH^mfp^ (yf tn-miurr 9(& Itw. 
 
 ' HfA iibiV fes :£<S6Kri^^ £!?,«;.■■,■ 
 
 '••'■/ -'I H .Uy.'i-r- mv 'sdHtii 
 «fi' JjKC^ Wir ‘.»')Jf<at oi". i Li tq^i ri ';{-£' /■' 
 
 \. ^rii' •jnoi>r A'ts- MJV-vyo-> (. -.w'f 
 \ ' fssMi ^aryaff^iai-i Jo'.'a-rttji {tti:«. ; - 
 
 fui -i^ . 
 
 >■:'.• ^e^-^e'^fe^yut'-vr-vr S tAfe.-K^uitS'^iMv- 
 
 ‘ '-:' xl I W ’■ > / i Ufa yt-jt,i£f'U5 vti^ii i •y©l 
 
 ‘'jhz ivi\ tf 
 
 • - kiiiluif '/ «' wf y, 
 
 ■5^f I ut£ k'liiia rx! rVrn' " ?'^t5 rTaa' .U# 'ri94^%^kM- ^ 
 
 ' yfiolifih «7« ii' I 
 
 ,' ', ' 'iaVao' ' -piiiit' iL *1 ft(‘m yy-^ ^.'i- . 
 
 $■' |p)a fclk «i.i ,ifB')}i' L’lfe S'.; 
 
 . ftiji ky 3fU '’■•> 
 
 »^iti "ifh ^KtaM'-I-'X?'CfJ •>'iff}V fiV.' 
 
 - ^ 7 . . 
 
 •' ■' ftaiTT OA ‘A; lliw 1 ^ou; 'k- £?■• ■- CH JAift fi!lli * > •_ 
 
®tll " 0f icalitrg. 
 
 Matthew viii. 2, 3. 
 

Matthew viii. 2. 3. (Mark i. 41. Luke v. 13.) 
 
 “And, behold, there came a leper and worshipped Him, saying. Lord, 
 if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean. And Jesus put forth His 
 hand, and touched him, saying, 1 will ; be thou clean. And imme- 
 diately his leprosy was cleansed.” 
 
 UR earthly friends do not like our putting 
 them on very difficult tasks ; they are not 
 willing that we should throw heavy responsi- 
 bility upon them. But herein is Jesus the 
 friend that sticketh closer than a brother/' the friend 
 of publicans and sinners/' different from all other friends^ 
 and superior to them ; He is willing to undertake the 
 most difficult tasks for us ; He does not shrink from any 
 amount of responsibility. The darker our sky, the more 
 luminously does His friendship shine ; so that the believer 
 may well triumph in his Lord, and cry, This is my be- 
 loved, and this is my friend, 0 daughters of Jerusalem." 
 Cant. V. 16. If any doubt the Saviour's willingness to 
 undertake a heavy responsibility, or a difficult task, on 
 behalf of a poor sinner, let him hear that one great invi- 
 tation which embraces every form of misery, and every 
 one bending beneath its load, Come unto me, all ye that 
 labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest 
 
 5 
 
98 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 Matt. xi. 28^ there is no task too hard for the One who 
 is able to save the world. 
 
 Many were the difficult tasks upon which the Lord 
 Jesus Christ was put^ during His sojourn amongst men ; 
 the blind were brought to Him, to receive their sight ; 
 the dumb to be made to speak ; and the deaf to hear ; 
 all manner of sicknesses were proposed to Him for cure ; 
 He refused not one ; with a rich, free, powerful hand 
 He cured them all. Do not all these mighty deeds unite 
 in common testimony, and say, Poor, laden, stricken 
 sinner, Jesus Christ, who did all these wonderful works, 
 is the Saviour for thee 
 
 And here we have Christ allowing Himself to be 
 put on a most difficult task, even the cure of a leper ; 
 the task was beyond all human power ; the man Christ 
 Jesus was the only One who could accomplish it ; and 
 so we find Him throwing open His sympathies to this 
 poor afflicted creature, and that with the certainty that 
 He did not raise any hope, which bye and bye He would 
 be constrained to disappoint. Oh ! blessed thought, 
 Jesus never raises any false hope, Jesus never dis- 
 appoints. 
 
 Now, let us think for a while over this wonderful cure 
 of the leper ; let us dwell upon his if thou wilt,^^ and 
 upon the Lord Jesus Christ's will," and may the 
 Holy Spirit enable us to gather up some blessed teach- 
 ings for ourselves. 
 
 Our Lord had been preaching and healing, through 
 Galilee, and was now returning to Capernaum. Strength 
 had flowed from His word, and healing from His touch, 
 in His progress from place to place, and His steps had 
 left prints of light wherever they fell, whether on the 
 
THE ‘a WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 99 
 
 road way, the hamlet, or the town ; for in every place 
 men sought Him, and healing by Him and found all 
 that they desired. And now that Jesus is returning, 
 mercy must mark His incoming even as it did His out- 
 going ; and so this poor leper is found in His path, his 
 measure of faith no doubt imperfect, but the love 
 of Jesus, beyond all measure, perfect ; and according 
 to the perfection that is in Christ, the man finds his 
 cure. 
 
 It may be,'' as Kitto says, that the lepers had 
 heard of Christ ; that they had seen Him afar off ; that 
 they had talked to each other of His great doings, in 
 their isolated communities ; and as they recounted the 
 wonders of mercy He had wrought, that they shook their 
 sad heads, and remarked one to another, that He had not 
 yet cured a leper ; and asked, who since the days of 
 Elisha had ever heard of a leper being cured ? But there 
 was one poor man who suffered a ray of hope to enter 
 into his heart, and being entered, he nourished it, until 
 it grew into faith. The more he thought upon the mi- 
 raculous cures of which he had heard, the more ho felt 
 that in the prophet of Galilee dwelt a power such as 
 the world had not before known, and which it were idle 
 to limit to leprosy. Yes! He could cure him, hntzvould 
 He do so.^ Would he deign even to look upon an object 
 so loathsome and so vile ? Would He not rather, as 
 scores of famous teachers and learned doctors had done, 
 Avarn him from His path as a pollution ? The poor leper 
 may be forgh^en this doubt ; for his affliction had not 
 allowed him to enter the cities in which Jesus taught, 
 or to mix in the crowds that saw His miracles. He had 
 not, therefore, been able to witness the divine compas- 
 
100 
 
 THE I WILL ” OF HEALING. 
 
 sion^ that so often beamed from the Saviour's eyes^ or 
 to hear the tender gentleness of those tones in which He 
 spoke to the cast down and the miserable. Well^ then, 
 J esus could doubtless heal him ; and it remained to be 
 seen if He were willing. He could at least try. He lost 
 nothing, nothing, alas ! but hope, if he were repelled : 
 he gained much if he were accepted. This concluded, 
 there remained yet the difficulty of getting access to 
 His presence. He could not go into any town to seek 
 Him ; nor could he, to approach Him, enter the crowds 
 by which He was usually in public surrounded. There 
 was but one course, and this was, to wait upon the 
 road leading to Capernaum, when the return of Jesus 
 was expected, and to accost Him, as He went by with 
 His disciples. He went, ho waited, and doubt not that 
 his unleprous heart beat in audible throbs, when he at 
 length beheld the near approach of One who might de- 
 liver him from the horrible bondage in which he had 
 lain so long. He advanced towards our Lord as He 
 came nigh, and laying his head low in the dust before 
 Him, he cried, ^ Lord, if Thou wilt. Thou canst make 
 me clean.' Oh ! the agonizing suspense of the moment 
 that followed ! But it was not protracted. A replying 
 voice, that went at once to his heart, and filled it with 
 rapture, said, ‘ I will ;' and our Saviour, moved with 
 deep compassion, put forth His hand and touched him — 
 him, whom no unleprous hand had touched for years ; 
 and the same voice, which never left the memory more, 
 said to him, ^ Be thou clean !' At that word a change 
 passed over him, he felt new blood tingle through his 
 veins, he felt the fiush of healthy life in all his tainted 
 members; he knew that the leprosy had passed from him. 
 
THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 101 
 
 and he stood np^ cleansed^ enfranchised^ restored to his 
 family and friends^ and to all the blessings of social life.'' "* 
 
 This description^ sufficiently graphic, may give us a 
 correct account of exactly how this leper came into the 
 immediate presence of the Lord ; enough for us that 
 he is now there ; our teaching is to be from what sub- 
 sequently happens. 
 
 The leper, having thrown himself into a position of 
 lowliest reverence, worshipping Jesus, addresses Him at 
 once upon the subject of his misery ; his address was 
 short ; none of the three evangelists, by whom the nar- 
 rative is given, tells us of his having said anything 
 more than the one sentence which we are considering 
 now, Lord, if Thou wilt. Thou canst make me clean."" 
 We are glad that the leper"s petition is so concentrated; 
 perhaps it would not have so much teaching for us if 
 it had been more diffused. 
 
 ^af Thou wilt."" 
 
 The whole onus is here thrown on Jesus ; the man 
 says, I am miserable, I am ready, and Thou art 
 able ;"" one thing only was wanting, and about that the 
 leper was not altogether sure — it was Jesus" will ; and 
 so he challenged that ; this was a happy word — it se- 
 cured the cure. Let us examine, in something of order, 
 what this leper did, Avhen he thus threw himself upon 
 the will of Jesus. 
 
 In the first place, he deeply touched the sympathies of 
 Christ. Saint Mark, with one of those little touches 
 peculiar to himself, tells us, that Jesus was moved with 
 compassion there was a spring in the Saviour"s mind 
 which the word of supplication touched ; a fountain, the 
 * Kitto’s “ Life and Death of our Lord,” p. 262. 
 
102 THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 waters of which it unsealed ; a fire which it caused to 
 glow ; the leper threw himself upon the innermost ten- 
 derness of Christ's nature ; and the whole being of our 
 Lord answered to the touch. There was no question 
 of poioer to be solved or proved ; the method of the 
 appeal left no room for argument ; the leper's words, 
 as they passed into the depths of Christ's loving nature, 
 which alone was invoked, cut a passage for themselves, 
 through Avhich the healing waters could flow ; the 
 response was instant — ^^if Thou wilt" — will." 
 
 And bear in mind, dear reader, that Jesus still has 
 sympathies ; He is the same yesterday, and to-day, 
 and for ever;" in Him there is ^^no variableness or 
 shadow of turning we also must appeal to the sym- 
 pathies of our Lord. In Hebrew iv. 15, we are told, that 
 we have not a high-priest which can not be touched 
 with the feeling of our infirmities oh! no, such a 
 hard and stern high-priest would be of little use to us, 
 who are in circumstances to need sympathy continually. 
 For, setting apart for a moment such deep need as this 
 of the leper — fundamental need, touching even life it- 
 self — is not our daily life full of little needs, of needs 
 which have more to do with sympathy than anything 
 else ? Have we not, insensibly it may be, still con- 
 tinuously, to fall back upon the sympathies of those 
 who are around us ? Are we not dependent for our com- 
 fort rather upon their will than their power — upon the 
 tenderness of sympathetic feeling rather than the display 
 of great resources and strength.^ Sympathy is the heart's 
 load-stone, silent, mysterious, all-powerful, attracting 
 to it all forms of misery, and imparting to it its very 
 self ; and such is the sympathy in the heart of Jesus. 
 
THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 103 
 
 And do not be afraid^ dear reader^ to make a claim 
 upon these sympathies of J esus^ because you think that 
 your present case is not one of such deep importance as 
 the leper's. Life is made up of little things, and if 
 Jesus can not sympathize with us in little things, then, 
 instead of living ever close to Him, and ever in commu- 
 nion with Him, we must spend the greatest part of our 
 life away from Him. Jesus looks at things, not in their 
 abstract, but in their relative importance, in the precise 
 relationship which they bear to His people. A little 
 scratch, at which a surgeon would laugh, may be produc- 
 tive of great suffering to persons of some constitutions; 
 J esus, the great Physician will take the constitution into 
 account, and give His sympathies, not according to ap- 
 pearances, but according to our need ; He seeth not 
 as man seeth He is ^^of quick understanding in the 
 fear of the Lord, and shall not judge after the sight of 
 His eyes, neither reprove after the hearing of His ears 
 Isa. xi. 3. Was not Jesus touched with sympathy at 
 that wedding feast, at Cana of Galilee, when His mother 
 said to Him, they have no wine Yes, He was ; then 
 He felt how the bridegroom would be put to shame at 
 such scant provision, on this, the day when every one 
 brought forth his best ; then He felt how the pleasure of 
 this, one of life's brightest and most joyous days, would 
 be marred, if threadbare poverty were thus rudely and 
 unexpectedly to intrude ; there was no absolute need for 
 J esus to shew His power ; no harm, so far as we can see, 
 would have ensued from there being too little wine ; but 
 Christ's sympathy was touched ; far was it from Him to 
 wish to see a cloud float across the horizon of this short 
 passing day of earthly bliss ; He was at that festive 
 
104 
 
 THE “I WILL’’ OF HEALING. 
 
 board a sympathetic guest; and so He turned their water 
 into wine ; such wine as man had never drunk before. 
 
 Surely this sympathetic Saviour is the very one for 
 us; and what are we but foolish neglecters of the mighty 
 power^ which Jesus Himself has put into our hands^ if 
 we fail to use this sympathy of our Lord ? In giving 
 us access to His sympathy, J esus has bared to us the 
 very secret of His being ; He has privileged us to pass 
 beyond all outer courts into the very holy place itself. 
 Be not afraid then, dear friend, to appeal to the sym- 
 pathies of your Lord ; the relationship of sympathy ad- 
 mits of all sorts of little things ; rather be afraid of 
 stripping yourself by unbelief of this privilege ; for if 
 you throw aside this privilege ; if you view it just as a 
 j)iece of sentimentality, and nothing else, what ground 
 will you go upon when you come to Christ for help ? 
 Will you come upon His justice, and power, and so 
 forth ? No ; you will feel the disproportion between 
 your little wants, cand these vast attributes, and the 
 consequence will be, that you will keep many of your 
 necessities from Him, you will try to bear many of your 
 trials unbefriended and alone. Heaven's choice gift will 
 have been left unused, and you have been left unblest. 
 
 In thus touching the great spring of Jesus' sympathy, 
 we must observe. The Confession^ and the ‘painful display 
 of Inman infirmity ^ made hy this poor leper. All this 
 was brought before Jesus in the one word clean." 
 
 Thou canst make me clean." The man was in a state 
 of living death ; unclean life" was his portion. Those 
 who wish to know what leprosy really was, can refer to 
 the note at the end of this volume, in which they will 
 find it with appalling minuteness; it is sufficient for us 
 
THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 105 
 
 here to consider that this poor man led a burdened life^ 
 a suffering life^ and one of conscious misery ; all this 
 was surely enough to make him an earnest suitor for 
 the blessings which Christ could give. 
 
 Burdened life!'" We hear men sometimes say, 
 My life is a burden to me the leper, surely, might 
 pre-eminently have said this ; morning by morning he 
 awoke to the realization of misery, night by night he lay 
 down without a hope ; his life dragged wearily along, 
 and there was no spring in his existence, nothing but the 
 heavy, even crushing of his daily burden of disease. If 
 there be any of us leading such a burdened life as this, 
 what can we do better than come with it before Jesus, 
 and say, If thou wilt, thoucanst" take this load off my 
 soul ? His own blessed words seem peculiarly to invite 
 us to do this. He says, Come unto me, all ye that 
 labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." 
 Our blessed Lord might be truly said, in many respets, 
 to have led a burdened life Himself ; how could He 
 have borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows," (Is. liii. 
 4,) without feeling the pressure of the load ? Let us 
 look at the absence of sympathy, at the perverseness 
 even of His own disciples, at His physical sufferings. 
 His long watchings, and all, in fact, that goes to make up 
 the history of His life amongst men on earth ; and how 
 is it possible to think of that life, otherwise than a bur- 
 dened one All who are thus suffering may come to 
 Jesus, and make use of this if thou wilt if you have 
 to say with Job, I am a burden to myself chap. vii. 
 20 ; or with the psalmist, Mine iniquities are gone over 
 mine head : as an heavy burden, they are too heavy for 
 me:" Ps. xxxviii. 4 ; or with the apostle, We that are 
 
106 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 in this tabernacle do groan, being burdened 2 Cor. v. 
 4 ; Jesus meets you all with His offer, Come unto me 
 all ye that are heavy laden ; my yoke is easy, my 
 burden is light.'' And let us suppose for a moment, 
 that your chief trouble is only this sense of being bur- 
 dened ; that deep depression is the characteristic of your 
 whole spiritual system ; that you have no great external 
 sores to exhibit ; oh ! do not think that Jesus will not 
 enter into this form of misery. He knows what depres- 
 sion is ; in Gethsemane He began to be sore amazed, 
 and to be very heavy," His soul was exceeding sorrow- 
 ful unto death Mark xiv. 33, 34. And when you, 
 dear reader, plead your burden. He will remember His 
 burden, and will do for you whatever your case requires. 
 
 The like may be said of suffering. This poor leper 
 had something more than his dead weight of misery to 
 contend with ; he felt the corroding influence of the 
 leprosy eat into every part of his diseased frame. All 
 this he now brings before Jesus ; it is all comprehended 
 in the petition, Thou canst make me clean." There are 
 times when we lead the life of many years in a few 
 moments ; and so there are expressions, and sentences, 
 in which we wrap up a multitude of thoughts ; thus is 
 it here ; no doubt the leper concentrated into this inter- 
 view the energies of many years ; no doubt also he con- 
 centrated into this petition the story of many miseries ; 
 concentration on his part as the petitioner, and on Christ's 
 as the gran ter, are a chief characteristic of this scene. 
 Let us follow His example in whatever sufferings come 
 upon us ; all classes and forms of suffering were brought 
 before Jesus in His sojourn on the earth ; let them be 
 brought before Him also, now that He is seated at the 
 
THE '‘I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 107 
 
 right hand of the throne of God in heaven ; trouble, 
 sorrow, need, may be brought, as well as gold, franldn- 
 cense, and myrrh. Oh ! poor sorrowful one, do not 
 think that your sorrows will be out of j)lace in the pres- 
 ence of Jesus ; do not mark this one bringing Jesus 
 his service, and this other one his money, and yet again 
 this other one the joyous praise of his bounding heart, 
 whilst you have nothing but your sufferings ; hring 
 them ; they also are acceptable when they are brought 
 in faith ; they will give Jesus a fresh opportunity of being 
 gracious. He who has any need has therein something 
 to bring to Christ ; it is only he who believes that he 
 has no need in himself, and therefore no need of Jesus, 
 that had better stay away. And mark. 
 
 The conscious misery of this poor leper. That was 
 another great characteristic of his life. By no possibil- 
 ity could that afflicted man shake off the consciousness 
 of his wretchedness ; it was stereotyped upon his flesh ; 
 it pervaded the very marrow of his bones, it was in- 
 grained in him, so as to be a very part and parcel of 
 himself ; no doubt the one absorbing thought of his 
 whole being was this, I am a leper.” Surely, it is 
 exactly with such persons that the Saviour has to do ; 
 when He sees a poor creature coniing to Him, and say- 
 ing, Behold, I am vile Job xi. 4 ; acknowledge 
 my transgression, and my sin is ever before me Ps. li. 
 3 ; The crown is fallen from our head, woe unto us, 
 that we have sinned Lam. v. 16 ; then He sees one 
 for whom He can do something ; He sees a cons^cious 
 emptiness, which is, in point of fact, a capacity for re- 
 ceiving what He has to give. So far, then, from being 
 downcast at a consciousness of our misery, and above 
 
108 
 
 THE “I WILL’’ OF HEALING. 
 
 all^ SO far from trying to get rid of it by diverting our 
 attention to other things, let us rather be incited by it 
 to come into the presence of Jesus ; our consciousness 
 of misery will appeal to His consciousness, to His mem- 
 ory, His sympathy, all, all that can work in our behalf. 
 This was on the leper’s part, 
 
 A ‘painful display of human infirmity, Ho doubt he 
 felt it very much himself ; he was not accustomed to 
 come near people ; the company which he had for a long 
 time been obliged to keep was that of his fellow lepers ; 
 and now he had to make a full display of his disease 
 before the Lord ; if he came to Christ at all, he must 
 come with his leprosy ; and this he did. 
 
 Dear reader, let us bear in mind that we must ever 
 come ivith our sins or sorrows ; and if we do not choose 
 to bring them with us, we must stay away ; for we can 
 never get rid of them ourselves. How many mistakes 
 have been made on this point, not only by those who are 
 trying to make themselves a little better, and somewhat 
 acceptable before they come to Christ for the first time, 
 but also by God’s own dear j)eople when they have fallen 
 into sin. Their sin is now fresh, and clear, and sharp, 
 and well-defined before their mind’s eye ; and instead of 
 bringing it at once to God, they wait until they have, as 
 they think, repented enough ; or gained some victory in 
 the very point in which they have been overcome. And 
 when this is the case, men are not bringing before the 
 Lord their guilt, but rather the palliations of their guilt; 
 not the deep demerit of their offences, but the merit of 
 their repentance for them, or their efforts against them. 
 All this is a grand mistake ; let us do our best with sin 
 in any form, we cannot make it look otherwise than 
 
THE '‘I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 109 
 
 what it really is, i, e., exceeding sinful f we had much 
 better bring it all as it is ; we cannot hide from it, or 
 diminish it, by any effort that we make. The Lord's 
 dealings with all these efforts at hiding are very marked. 
 Hear hov/ sharjjly He speaks in Isaiah xxviii. 14, &c., 
 Therefore hear the word of the Lord, ye scornful men, 
 that rule this people which is in Jerusalem. Because ye 
 have said, we have made a covenant with death, and 
 with hell are we at agreement ; when the overflowing 
 scourge shall pass through, it shall not come unto us : 
 for we have made lies our refuge, and under falsehood 
 have we hid ourselves : therefore thus saith the Lord 
 God, behold, I lay in Zion for a foundation, a stone, a 
 tried stone, a precious corner stone, a sure foundation ; 
 he that believeth shall not make haste. J udgment also 
 will I lay to the line, and righteousness to the plummet : 
 and the hail shall sweep away the refuge of lies, and the 
 
 Avaters shall overflow the hiding place for the bed is 
 
 shorter than that a man can stretch himself on it, and 
 the covering narrower than that he can Avrap himself in 
 it." ^^Mine eyes," says the Lord, in Jeremiah xvi. 17, 
 ^^are upon all their ways, they are not hid from my face, 
 neither is their iniquity hid from Mine eyes." Incalcu- 
 lable evil has been done by our attemjDting to modify 
 our guilt, to clothe our nakedness, to make less pitiable 
 our appearance before God ; and this evil is often 
 suffered by the Lord's people. Insensibly the Avicked 
 One puts repentance and moral efforts in the place of 
 plain, quick, and unadorned confession, and the conse- 
 quence is bad ; henceforth let our experience be that of 
 the Psalmist, I acknowledged my sin unto Thee, and 
 mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I Avill confess my 
 
110 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 transgressions unto the Lord ; and Thou forgavest the 
 iniquity of my sin Psalm xxxii. 5. This is the way 
 to blessing, to being enabled to say with him, Thou art 
 my hiding place. Thou shalt preserve me from trouble, 
 Thou shalt compass me about with songs of deliverance.'" 
 The worst display which we can make of our misery, 
 Lills far short of all that J esus already knows about it ; 
 we gain nothing, we lose much, by every effort to ex- 
 tenuate or conceal. Now may we pass over. 
 
 The hringing into immediate conjunction the darkness 
 of the 'present distress^ and the brightness luhich would 
 folloio if Jesus only ivilled to put forth His poiver and 
 heal. Deep dark shadows and bright glorious lights are 
 brought here into a proximity which no painter would 
 venture on, whatever might be his skill. Thou canst 
 make me (and look what I am) clean." (Oh ! think what 
 I might be made !) This contrast the leper brought 
 before the mind of Jesus, when he presented himself 
 with his leprosy, and asked for a cure ; but the contrast 
 was no doubt still more powerfully presented before Him 
 by the omniscience of His own mind. There, before 
 Him, lay the leprous creature in the dust ; let Him but 
 speak the word, and he would rise from it no longer with 
 a scaly skin, but with skin like that of a little child ; no 
 longer an outcast from his fellow men, but one whom 
 every one might embrace ; no longer the bondsman of 
 disease, but the freedman of health ; if the Son did but 
 set him free, he should be ^^free indeed." And thus let 
 each distressed one bring his case before the Saviour, 
 saying, See what I am, see what Thou mayest make 
 me." Oh ! Jesus knows the power of contrast well ; 
 He only knows the intense depth of the shadows of 
 
THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 Ill 
 
 darkness ; He only the exceeding brightness of heavenly 
 light ; and if we are constrained to say to Him, I am 
 in darkness, oh ! give me light,'' He knows the depth of 
 the meaning of those words, far better than we do our- 
 selves ; He will act in the power of the contrast as it is 
 presented to His own mind. How wonder-working, how 
 transforming is that power ! Know ye not that the 
 unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God ? Be 
 not deceived : neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor 
 adulterers, nor eflPeminate, nor abusers of themselves 
 with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, 
 nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom 
 of God. And such were some of you : but ye are 
 washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in the 
 name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God 
 1 Cor. vi. 9 — 11. There is a contrast ; and we have 
 another painted for us by our Lord himself, in Luke xv. 
 Avhen He shows us the prodigal, who a little while ago 
 was amid the swine, now clothed in the best robe, with 
 a ring on his finger, and shoes on his feet, no longer 
 filling his belly with the husks which the swine did eat, 
 but feasting upon the fatted calf, which had been killed 
 in honor of his return. 
 
 Is it not comforting to think that this powerful con- 
 trast is presented before the mind of Jesus, that it is 
 brought before His benevolence ; that He thinks, ^ I 
 know what this man is, I know what I can make him to 
 be Oh ! it is well for us that Christ knows so much 
 more about us than we know about ourselves ; let us 
 bear this in mind, whatever be our plague, when we 
 come before Him, and say like the leper of old, If 
 Thou wilt. Thou canst make me clean." 
 
112 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 There is one more thought suggested to our minds by 
 the leper's words^ If Thou wilt/' and it is this : — 
 
 A Idnd of obligation was here throion upon Jesus to 
 be gracious. The method of the leper's appeal might 
 have no Aveight Avith us^ but it had with Jesus^ and 
 perhaps a little thought Avill explain the reason Avhy. 
 
 The obligation flowed (1.) out of Christ' s very mission. 
 It was part of the mission of the Lord to heal the sick^ 
 not merely as a physician would do^ without any ulterior 
 object, but amongst other reasons, as an evidence of His 
 good will to man — as a type in which was wrapped up 
 the pledge of a higher healing — the healing of that 
 deadly leprosy of sin, of Avhich the disease now in 
 question Avas pre-eminently the type. Christ must not 
 alloAv it to be said of Him, that He sent any one away 
 Avho came to him in faith and need. He filled the hun- 
 gry Avith good things ; it Avas only those Avho were rich in 
 their oAvn eyes, that He sent empty away. Shall not we 
 also in all our need make use of the knoAvn mission of 
 our Lord ? Shall not Ave say to Him, Oh, Thou blessed 
 One, didst Thou not come to seek, and to sav^o that 
 Avhich Avas lost ? Didst Thou not come to bind up the 
 broken-hearted ? Didst Thou not manifest Thyself to 
 attract all misery to Thyself ? Thy mission Avas to the 
 Aveak, the Aveaiy, and the heavy laden, and such am I. 
 Fulfill, 0 my Saviour, Thy mission to me !" And Jesus 
 Avill do this ; He Avill see in thee, poor afflicted one, a fit 
 object for His Avork ; Avhen thou challengest Him Avith a 
 holy faith and boldness, to fulfill His mission in thee, and 
 in thy needs. He Avill not — He cannot send thee empty 
 away; for thee Christ hath an ^^I Avill — and His 
 I Avill" is this : Be thou clean." 
 
THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 113 
 
 But we are not limited to the obligation which Christ 
 has graciously caused to hang as a natural consequent 
 upon His mission ; we may throw ourselves also (2.) upon 
 that lohicli 'proceeds from His very nature. The Lord of 
 life and glory loves to put many toils close to men's hands 
 wherewith they may bind Him^ and hold Him fast. 
 
 We know what is the nature of our Lord ; all that 
 He ever said^ and did^ goes to show^ that He is full of 
 compassion and love ; he has revealed that nature to us 
 in order that we may use it ; and so any poor affiicted 
 one may come in his need, and say, 1 know Thee, who 
 Thou art," yea, 1 know Thee, what Thou art ; Thou art 
 kind in Thyself ; 0 be kind to me." If you touch a harp- 
 string it will vibrate and give forth its own peculiar tone ; 
 if you touch the nature of your Lord, it also will give 
 forth its own peculiar voice ; it is from an inner depth 
 there will come forth the sound you want to hear, — 
 Christ's great I will," the gift of what you need. 
 
 Yet once more, (3.) the Lord hy His previous acts has 
 furnished us 'with grounds hoth for argument and en- 
 couragement. We make much of precedents in life ; we 
 base calculations upon them in mercantile transactions ; 
 we raise arguments upon them in courts of law ; and 
 many of our own reasonings are insensibly based upon 
 them ; and why should we leave them unused in our 
 spiritual life ? Oh ! there is great power in the fact, that 
 Jesus did so-and-so ; He never acted upon the caprice 
 of the moment ; there was a reason for everything He 
 did ; the principles out of which His actions flowed in 
 former years, are the same now ; like effects will flow 
 out of like causes : let us use what Jesus did, as well as 
 what Jesus said. You may use His acts, thus, in prayer. 
 
114 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 Oh Thou who didst still the wildness of the tempest^ and 
 walk upon the troubled sea^ walk upon the troubled waters 
 of my soul and calm the agitation there. Oh Thou who 
 didst feed the famishing multitude^ look upon this my 
 low estate of hunger (either of body or of soul)andfeedme^ 
 even as Thou didst feed them^ and let me have enough 
 and to spare. Oh Thou who didst restore the withered 
 hand, mark the paralysis that there is over me, infuse 
 fresh life into me ; bid this withered part be whole V’ 
 Thus might we follow our Lord though all the doings 
 of His life, pleading well-established precedents in all 
 our times of need ; and He will never, by denying us, 
 practically repudiate what he has formerly done ; He 
 will shew Himself to be the same yesterday, and to-day, 
 and for ever ; and perhaps speak to us and say, Know- 
 est thou so well what I have done ? then thou shalt 
 know also what I can do.'’' Then will follow the great 
 will the herald of the blessed words ; the pledge 
 that we shall receive what we require. 
 
 Thou canst." 
 
 Whatever measure of ignorance or even unbelief, 
 there might have been in this poor leper with regard to 
 Christ's loilly there seems to have been none with refer- 
 ence to Christ's power. There was a great difference 
 between the ^^canst" of this leper, and that of the father 
 whose son was afflicted with the fierce and dumb spirit. 
 When he described his need to Jesus, he said, ^^but if 
 Thou canst do anything have compassion on us, and help 
 us," (Mark ix. 22,) and mark the answer which J esus gave 
 him: He did by him just as He did by the leper — took 
 him exactly where He found him ; the man said, if Thou 
 canst do anything;" Jesus answered, ^^if thou canst 
 
THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 115 
 
 believe'' — the poor leper said^ Thou canst f and Jesus 
 said^ Be thou clean." 
 
 There was in this leper a recognition of the existence 
 of secret springs of power in Jesus; without that, all 
 would have been of no avail ; there was here a strong 
 substratum of faith, whatever shiftings and inequalities 
 there may have been upon the surface. 
 
 Is not this precisely the caso with many in the 
 present day ? They believe in the power of Jesus, 
 though they are uncertain about His will ; but perhaps 
 they do not believe in His power in altogether the same 
 way as the leper before us now. He doubtless must 
 have believed in its secret springs ; he knew how his 
 blood and very being were interpenetrated with disease ; 
 he knew that Jesus could send through them a healing 
 power which would altogether reverse his curse. It is 
 thus that all who come to Christ for healing should 
 believe in His power : you must believe that His power 
 is unlike all others — that it has secret and irresistible 
 methods of operation — that it has ways of doing every- 
 thing that is to be done. The leper recognised the 
 power that was exactly suited to his case : so, dear 
 reader, let it be with you ; see a power, not only which 
 can do a great many other great things, but, what is far 
 more to the purpose, which can do what you require. 
 
 And we must not fail to observe that there is deep 
 importance in the repetition of the word Thou" — if 
 
 Thou'’ ^\\\i Thou'' canst. Leprosy was curable by 
 divine interposition alone ; the skill of the physician, 
 the healing influences of the most precious herbs, could 
 not remove even a single one of its hideous scabs, or 
 purify a single drop of its tainted blood — there lived no 
 
116 
 
 THE ‘a WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 physician on earth to whom the leper might have applied 
 and said^ Thou'' — thoucanst do something for me. It 
 may have been that there was a peculiar emphasis in the 
 unhappy man's expression of that word Thou that 
 all his faith^ his hope^ the terrible energy of his 
 whole beings now moved to its very depths, threw their 
 mighty strength into this single word, and Jesus felt the 
 whole weight of the man's need and hope thrown upon 
 Himself alone. Here was a recognition of His ability to 
 put forth divine power ; the man's need demanded this 
 and nothing less. And is it not thus, dear reader, that 
 the poor sinner is brought before his Lord ? is he not 
 taught the great truth, that none can do anything for 
 him, but Jesus Christ alone ? his eye is turned upon an 
 individual, and that individual — Jesus. 
 
 Oh ! it is a matter of the utmost importance that 
 there should be One to whom the sinner can say, 
 ^^Thou" — an individual upon whom he can fix his eye, 
 and centre all his hope. Such a one is Christ ; and as 
 such. He desires to present Himself to our view. An 
 example of this we find in the raising of Lazarus : (John 
 xi.) our blessed Lord associates His disciples with Him- 
 self in the journey into Judaea : Then, after that, saith 
 He to His disciples, let ^ls go into Judeea again 
 verse 7 ; they were His companions and friends, and 
 had a common sympathy with Him in the bereavement 
 at Bethany — a common sympathy !" so far as any, who 
 were mere men, could have community of sympathy 
 ' with Him. There is much grace dropping from the 
 lips of Jesus in the use of this word us but when the 
 invitation of sympathy is to be exchanged for the declara- 
 tion of power, the us" is changed to I and the Lord 
 
THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 117 
 
 of life and glory stands upon the scene supreme^ majes- 
 tiCj and alone ! It is were the words He spake as 
 He moved upon the face of the waters : (Matt. xiv. 27.) 
 
 ^ I' go that I may awake him out of sleep/' are His 
 words as He announces His intention of raising Lazarus 
 from the dead. 
 
 It is true there were disciples accompanying Jesus ; 
 they were around Him and followed Him^ but they were 
 nothing ; the eye of faith must fix upon the central 
 figure alone^ by whom anything could be done. As it 
 was on this occasion of the raising of Lazarus^ so also is 
 it now ; the leper fixes all his attention on Jesus. A 
 divine power was as much needed for healing the leprosy 
 as for raising the dead ; and just as Martha said^ But 
 I know that even now^ whatsoever Thou wilt ask of God, 
 God will give it Thee verse 22. So the leper says, 
 a jp ^vilt, Thou canst make me clean." 
 
 We cannot overstate the importance of a man's look- 
 ing at Christ personally for all he needs. Jesus says, 
 
 Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, 
 and I will give yon rest His complaint against the 
 Jews was, ^^And ye will not come unto me that ye 
 might have life." This Thou ' of the leper is a dis- 
 tinctive ^ Thou / if it was to be the Thou" of faith, it 
 must of necessity be so, and in marking it thus, the 
 leper found his cure. 
 
 May it be given to all who read this book, to look 
 away from every one surrounding Jesus to Jesus Him- 
 self. How apt are men to allow themselves to be 
 diverted by what one might call the surroundings of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ ; how much looking is there to min- 
 isters, preaching, and so forth ; when one distinctive 
 
118 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 glance at Christ would be worth it all. Oh ! never 
 weary of saying, Thou — He has what you want, 
 dear reader ; tell Him you know He has it ; tell Him 
 you want it from Him, and He will give it. Press the 
 Lord J esus hard with His personality ; say not only, 
 ^ the thing can be done," but ^ Thou canst do it yea, 
 more than that, ^ Thou only canst do it," and whatever 
 be thy plague thou shalt certainly be made whole. 
 
 Let us not leave this part of our subject without say- 
 ing a word or two upon the important little word If."" 
 What a volume might be written upon this little word, 
 in all its various uses in Holy Scripture ! but we do 
 not propose to consider this ^^If"" as we should if we 
 were giving it its particular place in such a volume, 
 with all its distinctive teachings ; we cannot, however, 
 altogether pass it by. 
 
 Well to come even to a state of ^ If " is not to be de- 
 spised. There are some divines who would immediately 
 raise a hue and cry after this little word, and hunt it 
 forthwith to death. I too would join in the chase if I 
 v/ere sure of being able always to run it down ; but I 
 know from personal experience, and from the experience 
 of others, that this little ^Hf"" can outlive an entire 
 pack of the longest-winded sermons, and if it be brought 
 to bay, can fight as stoutly for its life, as other words of 
 more pretensions and weight. 
 
 I certainly do not mean to defend this word If 
 for whatever evil there is in it, let it be condemned, and 
 if there be any good in it, by that good let us be taught. 
 And in truth, this little word, as used here, is a mixture 
 of good and evil ; it has but two letters, and yet it em- 
 
THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 119 
 
 bodies two of the most powerful j)rinciples in the divine 
 life^ namely, belief and unbelief ; and it occupies this 
 strange position, that it may be used powerfully as an 
 exponent of either. Let us leave the bad side for the 
 present, and turn for a moment to the good. Who can 
 tell what processes this man's mind may have gone through 
 before he arrived at this ^^If How he had to struggle 
 with the knowledge of the natural incurability of his 
 disease, and with his consciousness of its power as felt in 
 himself, and with all his past long season of despair, the 
 links of whose iron chain had been riveted into him 
 long, long ago, so that now they had become embedded in 
 his soul. To be lifted up out of this despairing state, was 
 no mean attainment in itself ; and our Lord does not 
 despise this ^^If" — Oh ! no — He who knew what was in 
 man, knew what was in this little word ; He knew of 
 what it was the exponent, and so He did not crush it ; 
 
 The bruised reed did He not break, and the smoking 
 flax did He not quench." 
 
 Let us beware of crushing those whom we perceive to 
 be defective in faith ; if we will aim a blow with a poker 
 at a fly that perches on the forehead, we run a great 
 risk of knocking out the brains. Coarse dealings with 
 spiritual deficiencies are productive of incalculable ill ; 
 they were never adopted by our Lord. Let us bless God 
 that some of our friends can even get as far as an If 
 perhaps the reader will have to bless God if he can get 
 thus far himself ; what must now be done is to draw out 
 the moisture of unbelief out of the ^Hf," to reduce its 
 power, and to kindle up the latent spark of fire, which 
 undoubtedly is here. Some persons come into the per- 
 fection of faith, not by any sudden and irresistible im- 
 
120 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 pulse of the Spirit^ but rather by a gradual process ; 
 the Spirit working out unbelief, and working in faith ; 
 He works upon all men severally as He will. 
 
 Be encouraged, 0 thou of little faith ; thy Lord will 
 not crush thee ; He will take what is good in thine 
 If^' to bless thee, and what is evil in thine If to 
 instruct thee. An If may be the lisping of faith — the 
 stammering effort to make a perfect sound, but God 
 weighs it, and if in it He finds even a grain of faith. He 
 will not refuse a blessing to the one in whom it is found. 
 I will.^^ 
 
 Having considered thus far the leper's condition of 
 body and mind, we are now j)repared to hear the words 
 of our Lord, — of Him of whom it may be truly said, 
 Never man spake like this man." Jesus said, I will." 
 Let us observe the majestic brevity of this ; He comes 
 immediately to the point, — If Thou wilt ;" I will." 
 And blessed be God this is no long complicated matter ; 
 the will of Jesus is not entangled with a number of con- 
 ditions ; it is just the outpouring of Himself, flowing 
 forth even as the waters of a fountain flow, without let 
 or hindrance, by the simple impulse of their nature. 
 Jesus comes to the point at once ; to the very point to 
 which He has been brought by the measure of the leper’s 
 faith it was His will that the leper challenged, and it is 
 the will that gives the response. 
 
 Is not this subject of bringing Christ to the point a 
 very important one ? Men dare not essay this with 
 earthly monarchs ; they have, as we say, to beat about 
 the bush for a long time ; perhaps they cannot make 
 the great man understand, perhaps he is not willing to 
 understand ; but mark the condescension of the blessed 
 
THE ‘a WILL” OF RECEPTION. 
 
 121 
 
 Lord ; He is willing to be brought to the point by even 
 weak faith^ and He does not wander from it, — it heralds 
 the leper's cure. 
 
 Have you tried, dear reader, to bring the matter to an 
 issue in the great affair of the cleansing of the soul, — to 
 get Jesus to say, then and there, I Will If you have 
 not, oh try it now — Jesus will always come up to the 
 measure of our prayer. Are not some destitute of jire- 
 sent peace, because they really have never sought it ? you 
 sought a cureat some future time, and perhaps, in seeking 
 that, you received an answer, a good hope of being saved : 
 but have you brought the Saviour to the j)oint of saving 
 you now ? If not, try Him, — the I will" that He 
 spake to the leper, yea, all the I wills" in this book 
 have not exhausted Him ; He has been saying ‘^1 will" 
 to poor sinners ever since He took up his seat at the 
 right hand of the throne of the Majesty on high : He 
 has got another I will " for you. 
 
 Observe, also, the comprehensiveness of it. We might 
 have thought there was no necessity for Christ's using 
 those words, I will." Could He not have taken up the 
 point on which the leper was perfectly clear, viz. : His 
 power, and healed him without any mention of his will ? 
 Did He not prove His will by working the miracle, and 
 was not that enough ? This might have been man's plan, 
 in whose brevity and business-like way of doing things 
 something is frequently left undone. Brevity may be 
 too brief ; dogmatism may be too dogmatic ; it is often 
 as dangerous to say too little as too much. We think 
 we can see good reasons for our Lord's repeating the 
 leper's words, and declaring His w ill. I will, be thou 
 clean." Does He not here take up the very point of the 
 
 G 
 
122 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 suppliant^s doubt ? Does He not apply Himself to 
 strengthening the weak point ? Does he not reveal the 
 depths of his own loving nature ? Does he not shew 
 how His whole hearty inclination^ sympathy, and desire 
 enter into the subject of the need of those who appeal to 
 Him ? We are thankful that those words have been 
 spoken ; we know now what the mind of Christ is towards 
 a needy one : we see here an encouragement which is 
 sufficient for us to go on, even if we had nothing else ; 
 when we are weak and trembling we can say to our- 
 selves, He said ^ I will." "" This will,"" thus shown in 
 the curing of the leper, is the same as that which brought 
 the Saviour from heaven to earth, Psa. xl. 7 — the one Will 
 which embraces, in its readiness to cure, all man"s lower 
 as well as higher needs. Where the leper"s weak faith 
 most needed a manifestation of what was in Christ, 
 there He gave it, and the letter’s ^^If"" departed, doubt- 
 less to be heard no more again for ever. 
 
 Think too, dear reader, of the authoritative 'power of 
 this I will."" It had a deeper meaning than assent, — 
 it imjdied a will with power. And herein differs the 
 will of Jesus from our mere human wills, in that He is 
 always able to link His with power : if He say I will"" 
 we may rest assured that it will be done. The resources 
 of the Godhead are all in waiting upon the will of Christ. 
 And what a prospect does this open out for us; how does 
 it dispel all emptiness and formality ; how does it as- 
 sure us that there is a reality in the word of Christ — 
 there are no mere forms with Him — His words are irre- 
 sistible : might we not say of this will"" even what 
 they did, who were all amazed, and spake among them- 
 selves, saying, ^AVhat a word is this !"" (Luke iv. 36.) 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF HEALING. 
 
 123 
 
 Be thou clean."" 
 
 Quick following upon the expression of Christ’s will, 
 came the declaration of His power. No long interval 
 of heart-sickening delay intervened between the decla- 
 ration of mercy and the performance of it ; Christ did 
 not leave His work half done. He gave the command, 
 
 Be thou clean."" The cause of the leper’s disease was 
 operated upon ; the poisoned blood heard that word 
 rolling its mighty sound over its sluggish tides, and fes- 
 tering sores, and whitened scales, and all the hideous 
 developments of leprosy shrank before the wonder- 
 working voice, and vanished before that healing breath. 
 Then, dear reader, cannot we imagine how this jioor 
 man sprang up from the dust at his Deliverer’s feet ; 
 how, at the more than magic words, he felt the hideous 
 monster, that had so long enthralled him, loose his foul 
 hold, and depart, to return upon him no more ? Oh ! 
 cannot we faintly picture to ourselves, how, under the 
 influence of renovated life and new health, this poor 
 fellow felt as though he could have almost flown, in- 
 stead of walked, as he went, under the direction of his 
 Saviour, to show himself to the priest ? What painter 
 could represent the gaze with which he looked at Je- 
 sus ? what poet could perpetuate, in even the most 
 flowing numbers, the music of his praise ? what orator 
 could imitate the impassioned utterance of his thanks ? 
 he who would succeed in doing this must not only be 
 poet, orator, and painter, but a saved leper too ! And 
 now he is away to the priest ; he speeds as doubtless 
 he never sped before, but the way is also doubtless 
 longer than ever it was before. Perhaps the leprous 
 man has a wife to return to ; who knows but that he 
 
124 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF HEALING. 
 
 had been stricken almost at her very side ; fond mem- 
 ories of the past come crowding into the heart — the old 
 soft words and sunny looks of healthy days, the sweet 
 communion of love, ere he had to leave his home, bear- 
 ing the leper's brand upon his brow ; and now he can 
 clasp that wife to his arms once more, and feel her 
 heart beat close to his ; and they twain can be one 
 again ; and it may be that there come trooping into his 
 mind the images of little ones who once clasped his 
 knees, and twined their arms around his neck, sporting 
 with him in that high holiday which children alone can 
 make ; it may be that there were brothers at home 
 ready to grasp him by the hand, and that aged parents 
 would totter forth upon their staves, to fall upon his neck 
 and kiss him, their own long lost one, with flesh come 
 up upon him again like the flesh of a little child. The 
 Psalmist said, When the Lord turned again the cap- 
 tivity of Zion, we were like them that dream Psalm 
 cxxvi. 1. And now, in this substantial dream on 
 speeds this almost breathless man to the priest. And 
 what will he with the priest ? there is no more healing 
 needed ; all that now he wants is the declaration that 
 he is made whole. Happy leper, to have said, If thou 
 wilt." Happy leper, to have met with one who said, 
 I will." 
 
 I will," Be thou ’’ — mark Christ's I," giving ; 
 mark our ''Hhou’’ receiving; it is an epitome of the 
 gospel ; it is the one distinctive grouping of its flgures ; 
 the giver and receiver brought near together ; the giver 
 — Christ, and the receiver — man ! 
 
'' I Will 0f CnnfesskiT, 
 
 Matthew x, 32. 
 

Matthew x. 32. (Luke xii. 8.) 
 
 “Whosoever therefore shall confess Me before men, him will I confess 
 also before my Father which is in heaven. But whosoever shall 
 deny Me before men, him will I also deny before My Father 
 which is in heaven.” 
 
 HE heart thrills at the thought of the noble 
 army of martyrs ; far back in the ages of the 
 past, it sees drawn out in long array the war- 
 riors of God, who were stoned and sawn asun- 
 der, who were tempted, who were slain with the sword. 
 (Heb. xi. 37.) Yet nearer are to be seen the victims 
 of the Pagan and the J ew, banded in unnatural unan- 
 imity against the people of the Lord ; nearer still the 
 hosts murdered by the church of Eome — men, women, 
 and children, bearing upon them the marks of the 
 stake, the halter, and the sword ; until almost before 
 our very eyes we see men and women from the mission- 
 ary field, and from the persecutions of this bloody 
 church of Koine, enlisted for that array in which every 
 one is a true hero, as well as a glorified saint. Hero- 
 ism's loftiest annals are to be found in the history of 
 the church of God. 
 
 But we must not fix our admiring gaze upon the 
 
128 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 noble army of martyrs alone ; there is a vast body of 
 confessors upon the earthy yea^ and a vast body of them 
 with Christ in glory^ who have deep claims upon our 
 notice ; with the men who have passed through blood 
 must be associated in some measure those who are ready 
 so to do^ should there be a cause. These are Grod's dis- 
 ciplined troops^ who have enlisted under His banner^ 
 sworn allegiance to His cause^ and taken up the cross ; 
 they are men who have for the most part tasted more 
 or less of the cup, which the martyrs drained to the 
 dregs ; they are confessors, and they are ready, wdien 
 need be, to empty their veins, and become martyrs. 
 
 It is of such confessors that we have now to think 
 for a little while ; it is of them our blessed Lord speaks, 
 in the j)assage in which we find this I wilL" Who- 
 soever therefore shall confess Me before men, him will 
 I confess also before My Father which is in heaven."" 
 
 And at the outset lot us remember, that the ranks of 
 confessors number amongst them all sorts and condi- 
 tions of men."" In those ranks may be found the king 
 on his throne, and the beggar in the streets ; and there 
 may be as great a difference between the places in which 
 confession is made as in the confessors themselves ; the 
 true confessor is to be found alike in the blaze of the 
 most open publicity, and in the shade of deepest pri- 
 vacy ; the confession may be amid trials of cruel 
 mockings and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and 
 imprisonment, amid wanderings about in sheep skins 
 and goat skins, amid destitution, affliction, and torment, 
 in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of 
 the earth ;"" or it may be only amid the petty persecu- 
 tions of an ungodly home. Sometimes men prick us 
 
THE '‘I WILL” OF CONFESSION^. 
 
 129 
 
 with their swords to see if we will confess Christ ; and 
 sometimes they only stick pins into ns to try whether we 
 be in the faith ; but confession is confession^ wherever 
 and however it be made ; we are required to be confes- 
 sors in the circumstances in which God places us^ and 
 we must not seek out circumstances for ourselves ; we 
 may rest assured it will always give us quite enough to 
 do, to be equal to present circumstances ; in them we 
 may make the confession before men, and at last be con- 
 fessed before the Father which is in heaven. 
 
 Let us now look a little closely into the matter, with 
 reference to daily life, and see at once our duty and our 
 reward. 
 
 And first of all let us look at this confession with 
 reference to ourselves ; what are we, common-place 
 people perhaps, likely to have to do Avith it in our 
 daily life ? 
 
 It might be said by some, ^ Oh, we are confessors ; we 
 acknowledge Christ to be the Lord ; we Avould not deny 
 that truth for the world." No ! not the abstract truth ; 
 but what about that truth when it makes demands in 
 daily life ? 
 
 We must at once clear out of our way the idea that 
 we in this land of professing Christians are confessors, 
 because we call ourselves Christians ; it Avould require 
 far more boldness for us in this country to confess, the 
 Devil, and say we were not Christians, than to confess 
 Christ and say we are. 
 
 There was a time when even to call oneself a Chris- 
 tian was to make the very highest confession, and to run 
 the risk of martyrdom ; Avhat would some of our con- 
 
 6 * 
 
130 
 
 THE “I WILL OF CONFESSION. 
 
 lessors have done^ if they had stood before Nero^ and 
 heard the howl of the wild beasts which were ready to 
 break their bones ? bare confession was something then ; 
 and it is something now in many a heathen land ; and 
 just see what it is to a Jew. 
 
 Whatever displeasure/' (says a converted Jew^) 
 ^^may arise in the minds of nominal Christians^ when 
 their relations are in earnest about the salvation of their 
 souls^ and give up all for Christ, it falls far short of 
 what the poor converted J ew has to encounter, when 
 about to publish in the world, and confess in the church, 
 that the Lord Jesus Christ is his Eedeemer. No one 
 can adequately describe the sufferings, persecutions, and 
 deprivations of the Jew, when he enlists under the ban- 
 ner of the Lord. Every endearing tie is torn asunder ; 
 he is spurned from the parental roof, detested, shunned, 
 and excommunicated by every individual of his nation ; 
 his business, too, is quite ruined in consequence of his 
 former friends abstaining from all intercourse with him, 
 in secular concerns." 
 
 Such suffering this poor fellow was soon called upon 
 to endure. His first troubles came upon him at the 
 time of the Passover. ^^My wife," says he, ^^went to 
 see my parents on the day preceding the festival. After 
 the usual salutations, my mother said, ^ I have been 
 informed of something, which I hope is not true — that 
 your husband has been baptized.' My poor wife, being 
 quite unprepared for such an address, could only reply 
 by saying, Wou will see your son, and he will answer 
 any questions you may wish to put to him.' My 
 mother continued, Mrs. W. says that we shall be dis- 
 appointed in our anticipated enjoyment of the holidays, 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 131 
 
 for that our son Henry (meaning myself) has been bap- 
 tized/ My mother added, ^ If my son has been so mad 
 as to act thus, I am confident that neither you nor 
 your children will follow his example/ My poor wife 
 returned home quite cast down ; she was hardly able to 
 utter a sentence, and I confess that I felt sorely grieved, 
 not because it was discovered that I had openly con- 
 fessed the Lord, but that it was such a blow to the 
 feelings of my dear jiarents and friends, towards whom, 
 as well as towards all my kinsmen according to the 
 flesh, I entertained the sincerest affection. 
 
 I understood that my mother intended to visit me. 
 She, however, gave up her intention, and the elder of 
 my two sisters came in her stead. After a little common- 
 place conversation, she said, ^ Mrs. W. has informed me 
 that you have been baptized, but I cannot believe it. 
 Tell me if there is any foundation for such a scandalous 
 report ? I hope it is a false rumor, and I shall be 
 greatly rejoiced to find it is so.^ I was now put to the 
 test, whether I would deny Christ, and subject myself 
 to be denied before the Father of our Lord Jesus, or 
 confess Christ, and be declared before His heavenly 
 Father, to be one of the sheep of His fold. I was not 
 a moment in deciding v/hat to do. ^ The truth is, dear 
 sister/ I replied, ^ that in the desire of doing all things 
 to the glory of God, I have received the ordinance of 
 baptism.' I had scarcely uttered the words, when my 
 poor misguided sister, unable to restrain her indigna- 
 tion, at first gave vent to her feelings by a flood of tears, 
 and then, as if reproaching herself for her weakness, she 
 arose, and changing her countenance, (which before had 
 been placid,) to an expression of scorn and hatred, she 
 
132 
 
 THE ‘‘1 WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 said^ ^ then^ sir^ we must have done with you for ever — ■ 
 you have made us all wretched — we shall he ashamed 
 to see any of our friends ; you have brought disgrace 
 and scandal upon us^ and will bring the grey hairs of 
 your parents with sorrow to the grave. If your heart is 
 not yet so hardened as to be incapable of being moved 
 at the grief and anguish you have occasioned your aged 
 parents ; if you do not desire to bo an outcast from your 
 family, from your nation ; if you will serve the God of 
 your fathers, instead of being led astray by those Chris- 
 tian idolaters, I entreat you to turn away from them. 
 You are but little acquainted with them as yet. They 
 may appear favorably disposed towards you for a short 
 space of time ; but they will soon contemptuously leave 
 you to deplore your consummate folly in giving your 
 society to the heathens, in preference to that of God's 
 chosen people, and the company of strangers, to those 
 of your father’s house.' I endeavored (by appealing to 
 her better reason) to soothe her agonized feelings, and 
 assured her, that I did not look to man, but only to 
 God. I said, that the Shepherd of Israel was gathering 
 his sheep into his fold. She would listen to no more, 
 but turning away, instantly left the house. After 
 her departure, she gave vent to her outraged feelingi^ 
 in a flood of tears, and I was afterwards informed, 
 that she was three several times attacked with violent 
 fits. 
 
 This was a season of great temptation to me ; I 
 loved my relations very dearly ; for in addition to my 
 having for them a natural affection, I now loved them 
 for Christ's sake, and for their souls' sake. But even 
 had it been possible for me to have loved them better 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 133 
 
 than I did, my love to Jesus was paramount to all, for 
 the love of Christ constrained me to give up all for 
 Him, whom my soul loved. I now prayed earnestly 
 that I might he enabled in this time of sore temptation 
 to stand my ground, and that the word of God sown in 
 my heart might take deep root. My family were de- 
 termined to leave no means untried to win me back to 
 them. Their mode of attack was cautiously planned ; 
 they did no offer any violent opposition to me at first, 
 for they expected that that would at once have put an 
 end to their hopes of regaining me. They knew how 
 much I was attached to my youngest sister. We were 
 nearly of the same age, and from our earliest infancy, 
 our mutual affection attracted the attention of all who 
 knew us. In all our little joys and griefs, there was a 
 genuine sympathy of kindly feeling, and this attach- 
 ment did not only exist in our early days, but continued 
 afterwards unalloyed by any misunderstanding, up to 
 the time when I was called upon to decide between the 
 love of my Eedeemer and my relations. Therefore, this 
 sister was deemed a most proper person to be the bearer 
 of the wishes of my family regarding me ; they thought 
 that I could not refuse her any request, and that 1 
 should yield to her tears and entreaties. The morning 
 following the day that my eldest sister came, I received 
 a visit from the youngest. She came in and looked at 
 us most piteously, then sinking down on a seat, covered 
 her face with her hands and sobbed convulsively, in a 
 manner that would have been distressing even to a 
 stranger ; what then must it have been to a brother who 
 had always shared her sorrows ? We sat like so many 
 statues. I now needed as much as ever the strength of 
 
134 
 
 THE WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 an Almighty arm to lean upon — my natural feelings 
 were overcome^ and had I conferred with flesh and 
 bloody I should undoubtedly have yielded in this 
 moment of trials but Grod was my stay. 
 
 Nearly an hour had elapsed before my poor sister 
 could give utterance to a word. Vain would any 
 attempt of mine be to describe her appeal to me. Ifc 
 was delivered in broken sentences^ now gently reprov- 
 ing, now affectionately entreating ; showers of tears 
 continually preventing her speech. ^ Oh, Henry," she 
 said, ^if any of that love remains which you have 
 always shown to all your family, and particularly to 
 me, you will now prove it by saving us from the dis- 
 grace and shame of one of our family abjuring the re- 
 ligion of his forefathers ; you will assuredly break our 
 hearts if you do not relent." 
 
 I must here digress for a moment, to observe, that 
 if a Jew has renounced his religion, and embraced 
 Christianity or any other religion, if he recant, he may 
 again be admitted to the privileges of his nation, by 
 performing some penitential act or acts, imposed on him 
 by the chief Kabbi, who is commonly, but erroneously, 
 termed the High Priest. To that personage my dear 
 sister urged me to have recourse, that, being by him 
 absolved from the reproach I had brought upon myself, 
 I might be received with open arms by my friends, and 
 be more endeared to them than ever. ^ Consider," she 
 continued, ^ that either your wife and children will share 
 your disgrace, or, being restored to us, they will share in 
 the joy your return will occasion to us all." She pro- 
 ceeded for a length of time in the same strain, but how 
 shall I describe the inward-conflict in which I was 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 135 
 
 now engaged^ or the struggle I had Avith my natural 
 feelings ? 
 
 My sister began to have hopes (judging by my 
 silence) that she had gained her point, that her appeal 
 to my affections had not been in vain : she Avas how- 
 ever greatly mistaken — I Avas silently praying to my 
 God to give me the spirit of Avisdom and of truth, as 
 Avell as a door of utterance, that I might speak boldly in 
 the name of the Lord Jesus. The Lord was Avith me, 
 and his grace enabled me to rouse myself from my 
 apparent lethargy, and fearlessly and unshrinkingly to 
 Avitness a good confession. I assured my dear sister 
 that however great my love might be to her, and to my 
 parents, or to my Avife and children, or any creature, the 
 love I bore to my blessed Saviour Avas infinitely above 
 all other considerations, and that all other love Avas as 
 nothing, Avhen we are assured of His love to us, His 
 sovereign love, Avhich is unmixed Avith human passions 
 ■ — in short, I told her that no earthly poAver or induce- 
 ment could draw me aAvay from God, my Saviour. 
 Finding that her tears and entreaties had all been spent 
 in vain, she arose to depart. ^Henceforth (said my 
 sister) I shall abhor Christians, their very name Avill be 
 odious to me.' With an aching heart, and swollen eyes, 
 she returned home to bear the sad tidings of the failure 
 of her mission to the other members of the family, Avho 
 Avere waiting her return in deep anxiety. 
 
 My two sisters next paid a visit to the Eev. 
 Mr. . They accused him of being the chief instru- 
 
 ment in leading me to Christianity. He assured them 
 that he was not instrumental in any Avay in bringing 
 me to the knowledge of Christ. He said, ^ When I first 
 
136 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 saw your brother^ I found him a Christian already.'’ 
 He then took the opportunity of briefly laying before 
 them the truths of the gospel^ and although they were 
 not able to controvert the proofs he gave them, yet, 
 being so tenacious of their own preconceived notions, 
 they expressed strong disapprobation of the step I had 
 
 taken. Mr. offered to go to my parents, and 
 
 endeavor to soothe their agitated minds, and reconcile 
 them to the will of Providence ; but his kind and 
 
 well meant offers were peremptorily refused. Mr. 
 
 related to me the substance of his interview with my 
 sisters, and told me how much pleased he was with 
 their intelligent conversation, with the energetic manner 
 with which they entreated him to restore me to them, 
 and with their respectful behavior to him, although 
 they were laboring under excited feelings. 
 
 Their next recourse was to try what my wife's 
 family could do. Accordingly we received a visit from 
 her brothers. My wife's family were always noted for 
 the great unanimity existing amongst them. Her eldest 
 brother began by asking her if she could reconcile her 
 mind to live with an apostate. She assured them, that 
 from all she observed, she was satisfied that I was seek- 
 ing to walk in the paths of truth, and holiness, and 
 added, ^ I cannot dissuade him.' I then thought it right 
 to address a few words to him, in supjDort of the choice 
 I had made. He would not allow me to proceed, but 
 continued addressing my wife. ^ My purpose in coming 
 to you is this, if you will take your children away, and 
 leave your husband, I will settle a sufficient annuity 
 upon you to support you comfortably.' Now as I have 
 before stated, they always attacked me where they 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 137 
 
 thought I was the weakest ; and knowing my attach- 
 ment to my wife and children^ they flattered themselves 
 that I would rather yield to anything, than to a separa- 
 tion from them. Here again they were foiled. My 
 wife replied, I am ready to share with my husband in 
 all circumstances, whether of reproach, contempt, adver- 
 sity, sorrow, or sickness, or in any other way in which 
 it may please God to visit us.’ ^ Then,’ said he, ^ you 
 are as deep in guilt as he is, and perhaj)s you are the 
 Avorst of the two, for had you disapproved of his con- 
 duct, he Avould not, probably, have persevered in oppos- 
 ing your Avishes, and rendering you unhappy and 
 miserable.’ They Avent away dejected and sorrowful. 
 We were wonderfully supported in those struggles, for 
 however Avilling the spirit may be, the flesh is Aveak, 
 and Ave must have sunk under the Aveight of these 
 efforts, had not the Lord held us up, proving the truth 
 of His own promise, that His grace was sufficient 
 for us. 
 
 I had noAv a duty to perform, nor could I rest till 
 it was performed ; which was, to go and see my parents. 
 We had not met for some time ; and although I knew it 
 Avould be a most painful intervioAV, yet to have omitted 
 a visit to them at this particular time, Avould have 
 amounted to a virtual admission that 1 acknowledged 
 myself in error. 
 
 Thou, 0 Lord, art a shield for me, my glory and 
 the lifter up of mine head.’ Never shall I forget the 
 morning I went to my parents ; it was the last time I 
 saAv them, and in all human probability Ave shall not 
 meet again in this world. A servant admitted me, and 
 I fancied I could read in her countenance that I Avas 
 
138 
 
 THE ‘-I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 considered nn intruder. I felt much agitated as I 
 entered the room where my parents were sitting at 
 breakfast. As I approached them^ they averted their 
 feces from me. I bade them good morning, and in- 
 quired after their health ; a pause ensued, and for two 
 or three minutes I received no reply. My father then 
 raised his head from his hand, on which he had been 
 leaning, and turning to me Avith a look of contempt and 
 indignation, addressed me nearly as follows : ^ How dare 
 you have the temerity, sir, to enter the house of parents 
 you have so grossly offended I said, ^ In what have I 
 so much grieved you He replied, ^ By the abominable 
 act you have committed ; for ever separating yourself 
 from your family and nation." 
 
 attempted to speak about the Messiah, but he 
 would not allow me to proceed. ^You have brought 
 shame and reproach upon your father"s house." I asked 
 if we Avere not under the curse pronounced upon all 
 Avho did not keep all the Commandments, and endea- 
 vored to show the difference of being under Grace and 
 under the LaAv. My father said, H Avill not enter into 
 any discussion Avith you : you were at liberty to main- 
 tain your own opinions, if you objected to the forms and 
 services of our religion ; but you had no occasion to 
 make it publicly manifest that you disapproved of 
 them. In your own house you could do as you j)leased, 
 but in public you might haA^e kept silence concerning 
 anything you deemed objectionable in our institutions." 
 I replied that in doing so I should have been a decided 
 hypocrite. My father said, ^ You have connected your- 
 self Avith hypocrites, and deceivers, and worshippers of 
 devils, in preference to the Avorshippers of the true and 
 
THE <‘I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 139 
 
 only God.'" I was about to explain who and what we 
 worshipped^ and how completely the Jews were in error 
 in not worshipping the Triune God of the Christian^ 
 whose existence was as manifest in the Old Testament 
 Scriptures as in the New ; but he would not suffer me 
 to reply. 
 
 ^ Go/ he said^ ^ and never dare to enter this house 
 again^ unless you repent of this wicked deed^ and for 
 ever renounce the society of idolaters. If you had 
 committed any crime^ however heinous^ short of apos- 
 tacy^ I could have forgiven you ; but now I shall try to 
 forget you. You are breaking the hearts of your 
 parents^ but you will not go unpunished ; for a time 
 you will be a slave to these Christians^ and do just as 
 they please ; they will then despise you, and cast you 
 off, leaving you to the remorse of your own conscience, 
 and to the scorn and derision of Jews and Gentiles." I 
 said, did not expect that such would ever be the case." 
 He thereupon mentioned several cases which had come 
 under his own observation, to bear him out in what he 
 asserted. I said ^ I did not fear what man could do to 
 me, Tor God had promised He would not forsake those 
 who put their trust in Him." 
 
 He replied, ^ The promises are not to you, for you 
 have forsaken God." My poor dear mother, with uplifted 
 hand, and with her aged cheeks bedewed with tears, 
 besought me to seek a reconciliation with God by taking 
 penance, that is to say,- — to go to the chief Rabbi or 
 High Priest, and express my contrition for the abomi- 
 nable sin I had committed in embracing Christianity ; 
 and state how desirous I was of returning to J udaism. 
 He would then appoint certain acts of penance for me to 
 
140 
 
 THE ‘‘I WILL” OF CONFESSION, 
 
 perform^ and after the expiration of a few days, I should 
 receive absolution, and he restored to the privileges of 
 the Jewish religion, to the joy of all the people, more 
 especially of my kindred, who considered a triumph 
 would he thus obtained over the Gentiles. 
 
 This appeal from my dear mother afflicted me 
 greatly — 0 could I have been spared this ! — this was 
 indeed as a thorn in the flesh — ^hut I felt assured that I 
 was under the guidance of the Lord, and He was my 
 strength and my stay. I therefore addressed my dear 
 parents, and told them, how exceedingly pained I felt 
 at being unintentionally the cause of so much grief and 
 distress of mind to them, in consequence of their erro- 
 neous views of the late occurrence. I assured them that 
 so far from my filial love and duty being diminished, it 
 was continually increasing, for that I now felt greater 
 interest than before in their spiritual welfare. I aj)- 
 pealed to my former conduct whether I had ever 
 offended them in word or deed. ^However,' said I, 
 ^you may contemn me, and cast me off, my constant 
 petitions shall be offered up for your welfare ; and be 
 assured that, through the grace given unto me by the 
 keeper of Israel, I will never do anything that shall 
 bring shame or discredit upon myself, my relations, or 
 my nation.' — ^ That is false,' said my father, ^ for you 
 have done that already, by openly renouncing your God, 
 and the God of your fathers ; and now,' he continued, 
 ^ I Avish for no more arguments with you : you had 
 better leave this house.' I replied. ^ As my presence 
 appears to cause you so much uneasiness, I obey, and 
 may the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, by His 
 holy Spirit comfort you and guide you into all truth.' 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 141 
 
 And now by this dispensation of Providence^ my 
 Saviour became more precious to me, for no one can 
 sympathize with His people like J esus. My father and 
 mother had forsaken me, but the Lord hath taken me 
 up. What astonishing mercy ! 0 may I be ever 
 
 willing to suffer the loss of all things, so that I may 
 win Christ ! 
 
 I knew there was nothing now before me but 
 affliction, poverty, distress, and persecution, but I like- 
 wise knew that God was able to supply all my need 
 according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus. We 
 were considered as dead by both our families ; and on 
 such occasions the parents, brothers, and sisters of the 
 deceased are compelled, according to the Eabbinical 
 law, to sit for seven days on very low seats, to rend 
 their garments, and to mourn for the departed soul. 
 During that space of time they must not leave their 
 houses, nor transact any business, and I believe their 
 misguided zeal would (if they had possessed the power) 
 have actually realized what was done in semblance, i, e. 
 they would have buried me.^^ 
 
 Well, dear reader, for a man to confess under these 
 circumstances is something ; and if your heart glows at 
 all within you, and you think, wish I had an op- 
 portunity of confessing my Lord,'' you will be glad to 
 see that the thing can be done, and that the opportun- 
 ity lies almost at your very door. Where shall we go 
 to look for a confessor's sphere of action ? It lies in 
 society j in trade^ in politics, in the social circle, in ex- 
 penditure, in pursuits, and in a Avord, everyiuhere. 
 Some people think that a profession ought to be made in 
 public, while there is no necessity for it at homo : while 
 
142 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSIOK. 
 
 others say we ought to be religious at home^ but we 
 need not be thrusting our religion upon people abroad : 
 but the truth is^ the sphere of confession is so wide^, 
 that the sweep of its circle embraces abroad and at 
 home — every place where there is a heart to feel^ a head 
 to think, a tongue to speak, or an ear to hear. 
 
 I ask you, dear reader, an important question, when 
 I say, are you known as a true Christian in the society 
 in which you move — in all the society — not only in the 
 good tea-party branch of it, but in all of it ? 
 
 ^^Not long ago an officer was accosted by a brother- 
 
 officer thus — ^ You're the right kind of Christian, 
 
 not bothering the people about their souls this way V 
 The speaker himself made no pretensions to serious god- 
 liness ; and the allusion was to certain officers who had 
 a Avay of speaking out very intelligibly for Christ. Our 
 friend had himself been converted ; but, up to that 
 time, he had been too timid to utter any articulate 
 testimony. As his visitor left him that day, he began 
 to reason with himself — ^ Well, if that man thinks I 
 am the right kind of Christian, it is time I was looking 
 about me and considering my Avays.' It Avas a some- 
 Avhat novel point of departure; but, from that hour, 
 our friend has been another man, boldly confessing 
 Christ and laboring to win souls.'" 
 
 Are you the Avorld's right kind of a Christian, or 
 God's right kind ? There is much religion to which 
 the tea-pot is the river Eubicon ; to get past it is an 
 almost insuperable task ; it may excite a smile, but it 
 is nevertheless a sad and solemn truth, that in the 
 deAul's hand even a tea-pot may be made the means of 
 leading a soul to hell. Look at this person at a religious 
 
THE ‘ I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 143 
 
 tea-party, and at an ordinary dinner-party : is it the 
 same person, or does he hold the same principles ? 
 Look at this young man as a member of a young men’s 
 society, and is he just the same young man as a mem- 
 ber of a rifle corps ? We hear of all sorts of pocket 
 things, and they are always considered handy — surely 
 we may add to them a pocket religion, and of its ex- 
 ceeding handiness in some respects there can be no 
 doubt. But a pocket religion will not always satisfy 
 the conscience, as we can see from the following fact : — 
 chaplain-general once related an incident of a 
 young soldier Avho on one occasion had consulted him 
 upon a question of Christian duty. ^ Last night,’ said 
 the young man, ^ in my barrack, before going into bed, 
 I knelt down and prayed in a low voice, when suddenly 
 my comrades began to throw their boots at me, and 
 raised a great laugh.’’*" ^Well,’ replied the chaplain, 
 
 * Another man, whom for three months we had been teaching to 
 read, was sent by his employer to a job of work in the country ; he told 
 me on his return how difficult he had found it to try and keep up his 
 reading, for his fellow workmen would knock the book out of his hand, 
 besides using very coarse language, and when ‘‘ I knelt to pray they 
 pitched all sorts of things at me, and jeered and swore at me, (there 
 were several men lodging in the same room) but I would not give it 
 up, and after a time they let me alone, and I prayed for them. — “Life 
 Work,” by L. N. R. 
 
 On the morning which succeeded the memorable night of Captain 
 Iledley Yicars’ conversion, he bought a large Bible, and placed it open 
 on the table in his sitting-room, determined that an “ open Bible,” for 
 the future should be his “colors.” “It was to speak for me,” he said, 
 “ before I was strong enough to speak for myself.” His friends came 
 as usual to his rooms, and did not altogether fancy the new colors. 
 One remarked that he had “turned Methodist,” and with a shrug, re- 
 treated. Another ventured on the bolder measure of warning him not 
 to become a hypocrite: “Bad as you were, I never thought you 
 
144 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 ^ but suppose you defer your prayer till you get into 
 bed ; and then silently lift up your heart to God ?’ 
 
 A week or two afterwards, the young soldier called 
 again. ^ Well/ said the chaplain^ ^ you took my advice^ 
 I suppose ? how has it answered ?' ^ Sir/ he answered, 
 ^ I did take your advice for one or two nights ; but I 
 began to think it looked rather like denying my Saviour; 
 and I once more knelt at my bedside, and prayed in a 
 low whisper as before.' ^ And what followed ?' ‘ Not 
 
 one of them laughs now, sir ; the whole fifteen kneel 
 and l)ray too.' ‘ I felt ashamed,' added the chaplain- 
 general, in narrating the story, ^of the advice I had 
 given him ; that young man was both wiser and bolder 
 than myself.' " 
 
 The word society seems almost, in the public mind, 
 to preclude the idea of religion ; and yet, if a man have 
 true religion at all, where does he leave it when he goes 
 into society ? how does he contrive to separate himself 
 from it ? on what i^eg does he hang it ? in what drawer 
 does he stow it ? in a word, where is it ? 
 
 There are three great confessors spoken of in the Old 
 Testament, and let us turn our attention to them for a 
 few moments, for in this matter they can teach us 
 much : yes ! not only they, but their garments, and we 
 must never be above learning from even the least of 
 the circumstances or things by which God would teach. 
 
 would come to this, old fellow.” So, for the most part, for a time, his 
 quarters were deserted by his late companions. During six or seven 
 months he had to encounter no slight opposition at mess, and “had hard 
 work,” as he said, “to stand his ground.” But the promise did not 
 fail. — “ The righteous shall hold on his way, and he that hath clean 
 hands, shall wax stronger and stronger.” — “ Memorials of Captain Hed- 
 ley Yicars,” p. 33. 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 145 
 
 In revelation and in nature, God teaches us by little 
 things ; the sparrows are made the medium of instruc- 
 tion as to God’s providence over our life, and the grass- 
 blades arc our preachers to invite us to cast all our care 
 on Him who careth for us, and not to wear ourselves 
 out by anxiety about our daily need. 
 
 The three great confessors to whom we allude, are 
 Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, and the circum- 
 stance to which we wish to draw particular attention is 
 the fact, that they were bound in their coats, their 
 hosen, and their hats, and their other garments, and so 
 were cast into the burning fiery furnace. 
 
 Let such as think that confession is something spe- 
 cial, something that must be prepared for by some spe- 
 cial process, observe that these men had to give their 
 testimony without any special preparation. They were 
 probably engaged in their ordinary business when they 
 were suddenly seized ; and when sentence was pro- 
 nounced against them, they were allowed no time for 
 preparation to meet their God — none for prayer : the 
 king’s commandment was urgent, — the executioners 
 did not even take time to strip them of their clothes, 
 but threw them into the burning fiery furnace just as 
 they were — with their coats, their hosen, and their hats. 
 
 Far be it from us to say anything against special pre- 
 paration, whether it be for meeting anticipated trial, or 
 for doing anything that is difficult in our Christian 
 course ; it is excellent in its place, it is excellent when 
 it can be practised. Would to God that we all knew 
 more of special preparation than we do ; that we chose 
 our smooth stones from the brook before we hurled them 
 from our sling ; that we followed the example of Him 
 
 7 
 
146 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 who knelt in Gethsemane before he ascended Calvary ; 
 immense blessing and power would flow forth from such 
 preparation; the seed thus steeped would surely sprout; 
 but we must remember that there may be no opportunity 
 for this preparation; there was none^ so far as we know, 
 forShadrach, Meshach, and Abednego ; what would have 
 become of them if they had had to depend upon such 
 preparation as they could have made upon the moment.^ 
 it may be that life would have been more sweet to them 
 than honor ; that the image of Nebuchadnezzar would 
 have received the worship due to the Most High ; that 
 they would have bowed the knee to the idol, instead of 
 offering their bodies as a living sacriflce to God ; and 
 cornet, and flute, and harp, and sackbut, and psaltery, 
 and dulcimer, and all kinds of music would have pro- 
 claimed, in their unhallowed strains, the disgrace of the 
 cause of God, and the triumph of the image of gold. 
 
 Eemember, dear reader, you may have no opportunity 
 given you for preparation, in any of the trials which 
 may be coming on you. You may find yourself suddenly 
 in such a position that you must deny Christ, or suffer 
 grievous loss ; if you be in such a spiritual condition, 
 so half made up in mind for God, that you absolutely 
 require special preparation to enable you to meet spe- 
 cial trial, then, should such special trial come on un- 
 awares you will be undone. 
 
 But it must not be supposed, that the three great 
 confessors before us now, were men without preparation 
 and training, albeit there was no special preparation 
 for this their great testimony and confession before 
 Nebuchadnezzar, and for facing these hideous flames, 
 which darted like serpents' tongues from the mouth of 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 147 
 
 the burning fiery furnace^ heated seven times more than 
 was its wont. As these men were ready to testify even 
 unto death in the coat^ the hosen, and the hat ; so in 
 the coat^ the hosen^ and the hat, the habiliments of 
 daily life had they been trained. 
 
 The account of this training we have in Dan. i., 
 where we read of their refusing the daily provision of 
 the king's meat and the wine which the king drank ; 
 for three long years they saw others feasting on that 
 which their own natural palate might have liked, but of 
 which their consciences would not allow them to par- 
 take ; they had only pulse when others had meat ; they 
 had only water, when others had wine. Thus, amid 
 this world's luxuries, they were kept separate for God ; 
 they were trained and prepared for their great confes- 
 sion, and for the trial of the furnace in a long process 
 of daily life ; their training was not in the garment of 
 an anchorite, but in the coat, the hosen, and the hat. 
 All God's true people are being educated, and strength- 
 ened, and prepared in daily life. David was trained to 
 fight Goliath by the previous conflict with the lion 
 and the bear ; and Moses was prepared to lead a host 
 through the wilderness for God, by long solitude with 
 Him in that wilderness itself ; and Shadrach, Meshach, 
 and Abednego were trained, by feeding the body upon 
 pulse, to yield those bodies willingly to the fires. Each 
 had a different way in which to glorify God, and each 
 in God's great school was fitted in a different way for 
 his peculiar work. Let us recognise the variety of ways 
 in which God's people are called upon to give testimony 
 for Him ; let us also recognise the great variety of ways 
 in which they are prepared for doing so. 
 
148 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 Oh ! may it not slip from our minds that in common 
 places^ and common relationships^ and common garments, 
 we are to confess our Lord. Let us give up that ideality 
 in religion which would dissever it from the commonest 
 of the common occupations of daily life. Let us not be 
 afraid of vulgarizing our faith, because we have to stand 
 up for it, and act it out in our coats, our hosen, and our 
 hats. Some people worship God on Sunday, and profess 
 Him on Sunday, in their Sunday clothes ; with their 
 Sunday clothes they put on their religion on Sunday 
 morning, and with their Sunday clothes they put it off 
 at night ; but may every reader of this book witness in 
 his week day clothes, in his coat, his hosen, and his 
 hat, for these are what are worn six days out of seven, 
 and these six days form the largest portion of the time 
 for which we shall have to give an account to God. In 
 thread-bare hose and fustian coats some of the noblest 
 testimonies have been given for God ; let us go and 
 testify in the garments of daily life, as we are called to 
 witness by our God. We each of us have marked out 
 the way in which we are to testify for Him : your way, 
 dear reader, may not be mine, and mine may not be 
 yours ; to one the sphere of testimony may be like 
 David’s battle field ; to another like the furnace heated 
 one seven times more than was its wont ; to another like 
 the wilderness of Moses ; but there lives not one who 
 reads these lines, that is not called to witness in the 
 ordinary garments of common life, even as David did, 
 who, putting off the armor of Saul, met Goliath in the 
 shepherd’s coat ; and these three men, who, seized upon 
 in the midst of their daily business, dared the vengeance 
 of the king, and were cast into the midst of the burning 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 149 
 
 fiery furnace^ bound in their coats, their hosen, and 
 their hats. 
 
 And here let me observe, that there is as much di- 
 versity in the way in which men are trained, as in the 
 fields in which that training is to come into practical 
 exercise. God prepares and trains His people in 
 common life. I must not say that such a one is not 
 being trained, because the discipline is not the same as 
 mine ; nor must he say that I am not being trained, 
 because my discipline is not the same as his. There are 
 many different forms and books in the school of God ; 
 there is the training of the lion and the bear ; the train- 
 ing of the wilderness ; and the training of water and 
 pulse. But however diverse the methods of God's 
 training may be, let us bear in mind that spiritual 
 character must be acquired, and that unless we have a 
 character out of which to act, we shall probably come 
 woefully short when our trial time comes on. God's 
 people are often taken up very quick, just as they are ; 
 they must give their testimony in coats, and hosen, and 
 hats ; the very suddenness of their trial forms no incon- 
 siderable element in it. 
 
 Might we not profitably ask ourselves, how do we 
 stand in this matter this very day ? Should we be 
 called upon suddenly, are we prepared ? Can we trace 
 any discipline of God upon our souls which would 
 produce fruit in our trial hour ? The question is an 
 important one, for, let us remember this, undisciplined 
 souls are not likely to confess Christ on earth, or to be 
 confessed by Christ in heaven. It may be that some are 
 expecting time for preparation, and thinking that they 
 will do very well if they have time given them for this ; 
 
150 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 but as no time was given to Shadracb^ Meshach^ and 
 Abednego, so may none be given to us ; let us remem- 
 ber that these men were bound in their coats, their 
 hosen, and their hats. 
 
 It is just possible that some reader may think that 
 sublime truth cannot be witnessed to in ordinary life ; 
 that there must be a stage, with gorgeous scenery and 
 wide expanse for its development, and that the actors 
 upon this scene must be suitably attired. 
 
 It is a great snare of the devil, which, by such a 
 thought, is spread before our feet ; these men, whose 
 case we are now considering, had in ordinary life to 
 witness the sublimest truth. Taken before Nebuchad- 
 nezzar just as they were, they had to confront the idol, 
 and the one by whose order it had been made, and de- 
 clare that there was but the one true, and living, and 
 everlasting God. The idol was made, no doubt, of gold — 
 gold'' — which is many a man's god, even though it be 
 in the rough, uncast into any idol form ; it glittered in 
 the eastern sun with dazzling light, and the music 
 played to its honor, was in itself enough to drug the 
 soul ; but the living God had his shrine in these men's 
 hearts, and they were ready to confess their God, even 
 amid heathenish music, and in the very presence of the 
 heathen god. 
 
 Let us be assured, dear reader, that we, even as these 
 men were, are often called upon to witness to the 
 sublimest truths in the common habiliments of daily 
 life. We make a great mistake if we connect the 
 sublime and the uncommon together, as though any- 
 thing to be noble and grand must of necessity be out of 
 the way. The truly sublime is to be found in even the 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 151 
 
 commonest walks of life^ and upon its flattest plains ; 
 there, no doubt, there is an abundance of what is base, 
 but there also, there may be a sublime protest against 
 what is base ; it was in the flat plain of Dura that 
 Nebuchadnezzar’s image was set up ; it was there also 
 that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego refused to wor- 
 ship it, and nobly stood up for God. 
 
 Let me remind any of my readers, who are inclined 
 to think it dull work, that they have only common truth 
 to illustrate by their life, that it was only a common 
 truth for which Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego stood 
 up — but for which also they were ready to die. If any 
 think that if they were arrayed in the panoply of a 
 warrior they would fight for God ; or if they were vested 
 in the garb of a minister they could testify for God ; let 
 them remember that it was in their coats, their hosen, 
 and their hats that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego 
 glorified their Lord. 
 
 Let us remember, that even the commonest truth of 
 religion is sublime, and that the acting of it out is 
 sublime also. God does not look for the chief confession 
 of His name from beneath the cathedral’s fretted roof, 
 but from the commonest paths and homes of life ; not 
 from surpliced ministers or chanting choirs, but from 
 men in their coats, their hosen, and their hats. If the 
 consciousness of the sublime will uphold us, let us 
 remember that the commonest truths and acts of real 
 religion are sublime in the eyes of God. Oh ! that we 
 could see things in the light in which God sees them, 
 then we should perceive altars of service thick scattered 
 over the earth, altars to be served by believers, who 
 the apostle tells us are God’s priests ; the fittest vest- 
 
152 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 ments for whose ministering would be the common ves- 
 ture of their daily clothes. Sublimer deeds of heroism 
 have been done in coat, and hosen, and hat, than in 
 warrior's mail ; and the histories of heaven are fuller of 
 what has been done in the common walks of life, than of 
 what has been done in the battle field. Angels in white 
 and in shining garments perform their ministry in the 
 world invisible ; but we, as ordinary men, must perform 
 our ministry amid that which is seen. Our service by 
 and bye will be in the shining garment, but now it must 
 be in the hosen and the coat. The unideality and un- 
 sentimentality of the vesture may drive away from the 
 service half-hearted men ; but it was with three men 
 who were thrown into the furnace thus arrayed, that 
 there walked a fourth, and His form was like the Son 
 of God. 
 
 And let us just bear this in mind before we turn 
 from the consideration of these three confessors ; thus 
 bound in their common clothes these men were cast 
 into the midst of the burning fiery furnace. Do we 
 not catch the teaching in a moment ; do we not per- 
 ceive that as it is as ordinary men we must witness for 
 God, so as ordinary men we must expect to take the 
 consequences of our testimony, and suffer for God ? 
 There is no special garment for suffering in, any more 
 than there is for confessing in. In our coat, our hosen, 
 and our hat, we are within reach of the world's bonds, 
 and can be cast into its furnace ; it is in our daily rela- 
 tionships, perhaps in our daily business, that it will try 
 to do us hurt. If any of our readers think it hard, that 
 they should have to suffer for their religion, even in 
 the commonest little things of life, let them remember 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 153 
 
 how Shadrach^ Meshach^ and Abednego suffered ; let 
 them look at how they were arrayed as they confessed be- 
 fore the king, aye, and at how they were arrayed as they 
 walked triumphantly within the fires. No doubt the 
 scene is one in which even angels might have gloried to 
 take a part ; but one descriptive touch shows us that 
 these heroes were not angels but, even as we are, men ; 
 
 then these men were bound in their coats, their hosen, 
 and their hats, and their other garments, and were cast 
 into the midst of the burning fiery furnace.'^ 
 
 We shall be pardoned, we trust, by our readers, for 
 dwelling at such length on this particular case, for the 
 instruction which it affords is so entirely to the point. 
 
 Thus the confessors of Christ should be found in 
 society ; they ought to be found in trade also. 
 
 There is no doubt but that to confess Christ in trade, 
 becomes daily a harder and harder task. Competition 
 is exercising such a tremendous pressure, and as people 
 say, cutting things so fine,'' that in some instances it 
 is cutting altogether too fine the distinction between 
 right and wrong. It is better to make a little on good 
 principles, than much on bad ones ; plain fare and a 
 good conscience will do us more good than a dainty 
 morsel with a bad one. 
 
 And in speaking of this subject, we must not forget 
 the position into which men are brought in their con- 
 nection with others, as members of corporations, boards, 
 committees, and so forth. There is an old saying that 
 Corporations have no conscience and how often do 
 we see this verified in practice. Men j9rofessing Christ, 
 but not coTzfessing Him, will do things as members of 
 boards, which they would utterly shrink from in their 
 
154 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 individual capacity ; they contrive to lose themselves 
 in the crowd, to dilute their responsibility with that of 
 others ; it was n't they who did it — it was the board/' 
 
 these things are decided by the majority/' and so 
 forth. No doubt this latter statement is true, but was 
 this professing Christian well out in the minority ? if 
 there were no one else to make a minority, did he make 
 it ? even if there were no one to second his resolution, 
 did he propose it ? amid j9rofessors, was he a co?^fessor, 
 known and read of all men ? If a man asks what will 
 be the practical good of all this ? the answer is, you 
 deliver your own soul ; when in the awful day of great 
 account (that day when in strictest measure e.ach man's 
 share of responsibility will be meted out) this matter is 
 inquired into, you will be found to have herein deliv- 
 ered your soul. If this be not a practical good, we do 
 not know what is ; but moreover, you may do more 
 good than you think ; you may raise thoughts in the 
 hearts and consciences of others, the good result of which 
 it is impossible to foresee. One thing, however, is cer- 
 tain ; he who acts thus, confesses Christ before men ; 
 in confessing His principles we confess Himself. 
 
 The like may be said of politics. How many are 
 there who are afraid to confess Christ on the hustings, 
 or in the House /' they are willing to make them- 
 S3lves representatives of other people's opinions instead 
 of their own ; they have many masters, and the fear of 
 losing the favor of these many masters, makes them for- 
 getful of the favor of that greater master than them all, 
 even Jesus Christ. 
 
 And now let us leave all these wider spheres of con- 
 fession, and come to the inner and narrower circle of 
 
THE <‘I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 155 
 
 our own families and homes. Ifc is by no means always 
 easy to confess Christ in one's own home. Sometimes 
 a child of Grod has to contend with ungodly relatives 
 always living with them ; sometimes the mistress of a 
 house is visited by worldly relatives or friends, who do 
 not like religious ways, and perhaps there is the fear 
 of offending some person, perhaps the dread of being 
 pooh-poohed, sneered, or laughed at ; and there is the 
 temptation to change some of the religious ways of the 
 
 house to suit Mr. or Mrs , Sir , and Lady , 
 
 or Lord and Lady so-and-so. Now if all these impor- 
 tant folk are gentlefolk, as we must presume them to 
 be ; let us remind our Christian householders that 
 those who accept their hospitality will conform to the 
 rules of their house. The writer well remembers a con- 
 sultation which was held at an evening social meeting, 
 as to whether the usual custom of having evening 
 
 prayer could be adhered to because Sir , Bart., was 
 
 present. This gentleman (long since dead) was well 
 known to make very light of religion ; what would he 
 say if prayer were proposed ? At length, with some 
 hums and haughs, the baronet — mighty in his irreligion 
 — was approached, and asked if he had any objection to 
 evening prayer. Oh dear, no, not he — he had no ob- 
 jection ; he should be most happy," and he repeated the 
 Lord's prayer as loudly as any one, ending up with a so- 
 norous Amen." It is much to be feared that there was 
 but little sincerity in the prayer, but one lesson was 
 taught by the baronet, and learned, it is to be hoped, by 
 some present, viz. : that some obstacles to confessing 
 one's Lord are imaginary, and that if men go forward 
 boldly, they will find them melt away at their approach. 
 
156 
 
 THE “I WILLN OF CONFESSION. 
 
 To this let me add a word from Fuller's Good 
 Thoughts." 
 
 A person of great quality was pleased to lodge a 
 night in my house. I durst not invite him to my family 
 prayer^ and^ therefore, for that time omitted it ; thereby 
 making a breach in a good custom, and giving Satan 
 advantage to assault it ; yea, the loosening of such a 
 link might have endangered the scattering of the chain. 
 
 Bold bashfulness, which durst offend God, whilst 
 it did fear man ! Especially considering that, though 
 my guest was never so high, yet, by the laws of hospi- 
 tality, I was above him, whilst he was under my roof. 
 Hereafter, Avhosoever cometh within the doors^ shall be 
 requested to come within the discipline of my house ; 
 if accepting my homely diet, he will not refuse my 
 homely devotion ; and sitting at my table will be in- 
 treated to kneel down by it." 
 
 Let such as are afraid of great men, be afraid of a 
 still greater God. Thus was Hans Joachim Von Zie- 
 then, one of Frederick the Great's best generals, com- 
 monly known as Father Ziethen, or the Hussar King. 
 
 “ Ziethen was never ashamed of his faith. On every 
 occasion he openly professed it before high and low. 
 Once he declined an invitation to come to the royal 
 table, because on that day he wished to receive the 
 sacrament. The next time he was at the 23alace, the 
 king, whose infidel tendencies were well known, made 
 use of some profane expressions about the Holy Com- 
 munion, and the other guests laughed. 
 
 Ziethen shook his gray head solemnly, stood up, 
 saluted the king, and said with a firm voice, ^ Your 
 Majesty knows well that in war I have never feared any 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 157 
 
 danger, and everywhere have boldly risked my life for 
 you and my country. I am still animated by the same 
 spirit, and to-day, if it were necessary, and your Majesty 
 commanded it, would lay my grey head at your feet. 
 But there is one above us who is greater than you and I, 
 greater than all men. He is the Saviour and Eedeemer 
 who has died also for your Majesty, and has dearly bought 
 us all with His blood. This Holy One can I never allow 
 to be mocked or insulted, for on Him, repose my faith, 
 my comfort, and my hope, in life, and in death. In the 
 power of this faith your brave army has courageously 
 fought and conquered ; if your Majesty undermines this 
 faith, you undermine at th.e same time the welfare of 
 the State. This is undoubtedly true. I salute your 
 Majesty."' This open firm confession of the old general 
 immediately silenced the scoffers, and made a powerful 
 impression on the king. He felt he had been in the 
 wrong, and was not ashamed to acknowledge it ; he gave 
 Ziethen his hand, placing his left on the old man's 
 shoulder, and said with emotion, ^ Oh, happy Zeithen, 
 hov7 I wish that I could also believe it. I have the 
 greatest respect for your religion, hold it fast. This shall 
 never happen again." The king rose from the table, 
 dismissed his other guests, but said to Zeithen, ^ Come 
 with me into my cabinet.' What passed there no one 
 has ever learnt.' 
 
 Is Christ confessed when those who habitually 
 attend an evening service on the Lord's day, give it 
 up, because they have some careless or ungodly person 
 dining with them ? Is He confessed when masters and 
 mistresses, for their own selfish purposes, give their 
 servants Sunday work which keeps them from the house 
 
158 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 of God, even though they themselves are particular not 
 to be absent ? Is He confessed when most of the year's 
 income is spent on self, and God's tenth" is left un- 
 given ? On looking over domestic account hooks, I find 
 columns for almost every imaginable class of things, 
 some curious minutim even find place there ; pepper and 
 salt, and little condiments, can all he set down in their 
 proper place, but I have never seen one yet which had 
 a column ruled for ^charity ;' so that even if one had got 
 so far as to tithe the mint, anise, and cummin, one 
 would not know where to put it down. Publishers are 
 always glad of something new ; and it is well known that 
 it is often harder to find a good name for a book, than to 
 Avrite the book itself ; it Avill be a decided novelty to 
 produce an account book with a column for charity," 
 and by all means let it be called The Christian House- 
 keeper’s Account Book." Yes ! Christian reader, ask 
 yourself the question. Is Christ confessed in my expen- 
 diture ? He may be professed in your guinea for pew 
 rent, but is He co7^fessed in the proportion which, what 
 you give to Him, bears either to your expenditure or 
 your income ? But you say, this is a very private con- 
 fession ; this has nothing to say to confessing Jesus 
 'before men. Ah ! it has more than at first sight appears ; 
 the introduction of this one Avord ^ charity,' and its cor- 
 responding column into the account book, would make 
 quite a revolution in all the columns of that book, and 
 Avould bring many a one in a different aspect before 
 the Avorld. For, if Christ had His OAvn, there Avould not 
 perhaps be so much left for a braA^e display of dress ; or 
 for entertainments, and such like ; it may be that one 
 horse must be kept instead of tAvo, or perhaps not a 
 
THE »I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 159 
 
 horse at all ; it may be that a smaller house and establish- 
 ment generally must be made to do ; and are there not 
 many who could not bear thus, as they think, to come 
 down in the eyes of the world ? and so their lack of con- 
 fession of Christ at home, robs them of the power of 
 confessing Christ abroad. 
 
 But w’-e need not dwell longer here ; all spheres afford 
 their opportunity for confession ; the question hereafter 
 will not be as to the size of our various spheres, but as 
 to the way in which we filled them. 
 
 Let us now turn to some of the characteristics of this 
 confession. Are we called upon always to confess in 
 precisely the same way ? Certainly not. Just as our 
 Lord acted differently at different times, so must we. 
 We must deal with matters as they arise ; we need not 
 go out of our way to make opportunities of confession, 
 they will spring up of their own accord ; to fill worthily 
 the sphere presented to us will always give us as much 
 as we can do. We may expect to find blessing and help 
 in the spheres of God^s appointing ; we cannot be so 
 sure of this in the spheres which we make for ourselves. 
 And here let us carefully bear in mind, that the kind 
 of confession which we make, must not of necessity be 
 always the same. There are times when we must speak 
 out openly. There are times when we must testify by 
 silence — a silence unmistakeable, a silence ominous, a 
 silence with a peculiar voice of its own. CeciFs advice 
 to Mr. Hawkes was this, Be careful in your commerce 
 with the world, to act up to the character you profess. 
 Do not put on a Pharisaical manner of ^ Stand by, I am 
 holier than thou yet let it appear, that while you are 
 
160 
 
 THE '-I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 under the necessity of hearing their vain conversation, 
 you have no taste for it, no delight or interest in it ; a 
 humble kind of silence often utters much/" 
 
 There is a very interesting instance of this in the 
 Life of Madame Guyon."" 
 
 There was a certain learned lady, who was very 
 fond of talking, and who had read the writings of the 
 Christian Fathers. Madame Guyon was in company 
 with her and another lady ; and these two latter had 
 much conversation with each other in relation to God. 
 ^ The learned lady," says Madame Guyon, ^ as might be 
 expected, talked very learnedly of Him. I must con- 
 fess, that this sort of merely intellectual and speculative 
 conversation, in relation to the Supreme Being, was not 
 much to my taste. I scarcely said anything ! my mind 
 being drawn inwardly to silent and inward communion 
 with the great and good Being, about whom my friends 
 were speculating. They, at length, left me. The next 
 day, the lady with whom I had jii’eviously had some 
 conversation came to see me. The Lord had touched 
 her heart ; she came as a penitent, as a seeker after 
 religion ; she could hold out in her opposition no longer. 
 But I at once attributed this remarkable and sudden 
 change, as I did not converse with her the day previous, 
 to the conversation of our learned and speculative 
 acquaintance. But she assured me it was otherwise. 
 She said it was not the other’s conversation which had 
 affected her, but mj silence; adding the remark that my 
 silence had something in it which penetrated to the bot- 
 tom of her soul, and that she could not relish the other"s 
 discourse. After that time we spoke to each other with 
 open hearts on the great subject." "" 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 161 
 
 But a greater than any merely human being meets us 
 here ; our blessed Lord Himself knew the power of 
 silence in testimony, and He used it too. After he had 
 uttered the searching sentence, He that is without sin 
 among you, let him first cast a stone at her. He stooped 
 down again, and wrote upon the ground John viii. 8. 
 And the accusers of the woman could not stand that 
 silence : no sound broke in upon the workings of their 
 consciences ; they went out one by one, beginning at 
 the eldest, even unto the last, and Jesus was left alone, 
 and the woman standing in the midst verse 9. What 
 that silence did for the woman also, eternity alone will 
 tell ; it may be that then the first seeds of eternal life 
 dropped into her sin-stained soul. 
 
 Again, we meet with this power of silence before 
 Pilate. And when He was accused of the chief priests 
 and elders. He answered nothing. Then said Pilate unto 
 Him, hearest Thou not how many things they witness 
 against Thee ? And He answered him to never a word, 
 insomuch that the governor marvelled greatly Matt, 
 xxvii. 12-14. 
 
 Our common proverb says, Silence gives consent 
 and so no doubt it does in many cases ; but the silence 
 of the confessor is an unmistakeable one ; and if it be 
 a right kind of silence every one present can read it in 
 his face. Yes ! the confession of the countenance is no 
 mean confession of the Lord, and it is often one which 
 has no mean eflect ; many a time it has thrown a damper 
 upon ungodly mirth ; many a time has it continued 
 during a dinner party, or for an evening, a protest against 
 what was going on ; many a time has it raised thoughts 
 in the hearts of those who felt it — who heard it — for 
 
162 
 
 THE WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 after all^ silence lias a voice which speaks to the inner 
 depths of the soul, and leaves an unmistakeahle impress 
 there. 
 
 Reader, beware of a sheltering silence ; be prepared, 
 when that is the kind of testimony required from you, 
 to give a confessing silence. Be assured that you will 
 not lose anything, but on the other hand gain much by 
 it ; you must not give the world the opportunity of 
 mistaking you. I have already,"' says Mrs. Hawkes, 
 ^^experienced great advantage from endeavoring to follow 
 my wise counsellor (Mr. Cecil) in avoiding, not only a 
 too great degree of pliableness of temper, but also a 
 mean, sneaking, irresolute, shame-faced behavior among 
 worldly people. I find by experience that they soon 
 discover when the mind is made up ; and on making 
 this discovery, cease to persuade you to join with them 
 in their pursuits, while you secretly respect the con- 
 sistent character. I perceive this strongly in the remarks 
 made upon certain persons." 
 
 But should we be called upon to speak out, as indeed 
 in most cases we are, let us neither be ashamed nor 
 afraid so to do.’**' Let us remember the conduct of Peter 
 
 * The following instance of speaking out, is from a sketch of the 
 life of Scott, the commentator : — “ I had frequent invitations to dinner 
 parties, but I seldom returned home without dissatisfaction, and even 
 remorse of conscience. One Queen’s birthday I met at the house 
 of an opulent tradesman a large party, among whom were several 
 other ministers. The dinner was exceedingly splendid and luxurious, 
 including every delicacy in season. In the evening a question wus 
 proposed on the principal dangers to which evangelical religion was 
 exposed; and being called on to speak, I ventured to say that con- 
 formity to the world w'as the grand danger of all. One thing led to 
 another, and the luxurious dinner did not pass unnoticed. Perhaps I 
 was too pointed, and strong expressions of disapprobation were used at 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 163 
 
 and John before the high priest and his kindred in 
 Jerusalem^ who^ when they were called and commanded 
 not to speak at all nor teach in the name of Jesns^ gave 
 this answer, Whether it be right in the sight of God 
 to hearken nnto you more than unto God, judge ye, for 
 we cannot but speak the things which we have seen and 
 heard Acts iv. 19, 20. 
 
 There are times when it is quite impossible for us to 
 keep silence, and yet retain our distinctive character of 
 confessors of our Lord. On such occasions let us make 
 our confession with meekness but with boldness, with 
 gentleness but with decision, with no accompaniment 
 calculated to irritate the man, though with precision 
 enough to rebuke his sin. And we shall be more suc- 
 cessful than we at first, perhaps, suppose ; and not only 
 so, but we shall escape with, perhaps, less personal 
 insult than we had reason to expect. 
 
 It is related by Dr. Scudder, that, on his return from 
 his mission in India, after a long absence, he was stand- 
 ing on the deck of a steamer with his son, a youth, 
 when he heard a gentleman using loud and profane 
 language. See, friend,'" said the doctor, accosting the 
 swearer, this boy, my son, was born and brought up 
 in a heathen country, and a land of pagan idolatry, but 
 in all his life he never heard a man blaspheme his 
 Maker until now." The man colored, blurted out an 
 apology, and looked not a little ashamed of himself. 
 
 the time, but I went home rejoicing in the testimony of my conscience. 
 The gentleman never invited me again but once, and then our dinner 
 was a piece of boiled beef. He was, I believe, a truly pious man, but 
 misled by bad examples. He continued to act towards me in a friendly 
 manner, and left me a small legacy at his death.” 
 
164 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 And now let ns change the scene, and we have a poor 
 man, both faithful and prosperous in his confession. 
 
 A merchant and shipowner stood at the entrance of 
 his store conversing with a gentleman on business. A 
 good old sailor belonging to one of his vessels approached 
 the store with the intention of entering it, but observing 
 that the door was occupied, modestly stepped aside, not 
 willing to interrupt the conversation. As he stood, 
 waiting patiently an opportunity to pass, he overheard 
 some allusions made to Christ, and turning to look, he 
 perceived that it was his employer who was speaking. 
 Instantly he changed his position, and stood in front of 
 the gentleman with his head uncovered and his hat 
 under his arm, and addressed his employer in the 
 following language, Sir, will you forgive me if I speak 
 a word to you ?” The gentleman, recognising in the 
 sailor one of the crew of the vessel recently arrived, and 
 supposing he might have something to communicate 
 affecting his interest, kindly encouraged him to speak. 
 Without further hesitation, the sailor proceeded, — ‘ Wou 
 won't be offended, then, sir, with a poor ignorant sailor 
 if he tells you his feelings The gentleman again 
 assured him that he had nothing to fear. Well, then, 
 sir," said the honest-hearted sailor with emotion, will 
 you be so kind as not to take the name of my blessed 
 Jesus in vain ? He is a good Saviour ; He took my feet 
 from the horrible pit, and the miry clay, and established 
 my goings. Oh, sir, don't, if you please, take the name 
 of my Jesus in vain ! He never did any one harm and 
 is always doing poor sinners good." The rebuke was 
 not lost upon him for whom it was intended, a tear 
 suffused his eye, and he replied to his urgent request. 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 165 
 
 My good fellow, God helping me, I will never again 
 take the name of our Saviour in vain.'" Thank you, 
 sir," said the faithful witness for Christ, and putting on 
 his hat, he hastened off to his work. 
 
 Sometimes weak woman have to be confessors ; and 
 they are matched against those who in mere argument 
 are able to overcome them ; but God can give them 
 suitable words, if only they be faithful to Him. He 
 who can give his people words before magistrates and 
 rulers, can give them words also before their fellow men 
 in society, or in whatever position they are called upon 
 to confess. 
 
 A lady once thus completely shut up a pretended 
 freethinker, who had been repeating a number of 
 absurdities to prove that men had no souls. The com- 
 pany seemed contented with staring at him, instead of 
 replying. He addressed this lady, and asked her with 
 an air of triumph, what she thought of his philosophy. 
 
 It appears to me, sir," she replied, that you have 
 been employing a good deal of talent to prove yourself 
 a beast." 
 
 And for the encouragement of female confessors, we 
 may add another instance of successful interference for 
 Christ. 
 
 A few years ago, a young naval officer who was pass- 
 ing in the cars from Newark to York, constantly intro- 
 duced the most profane oaths into his conversation. 
 His shocking profanity greatly annoyed a young lady 
 who sat near him. At last, turning to him, she said. 
 
 Sir, can you converse in Hebrew ?" Yes," was his 
 reply, in a slightly sneering tone. ^^Then," said she,^^ if 
 you wish to swear any more, you would greatly oblige 
 
166 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 me^ and probably the rest of the passengers^ if you would 
 do it in Hebrew/'" The young of3ficer"s color came and 
 went. He looked at the young lady^ then at his boots^ 
 then at the ceiling of the cars^ but he did not swear any 
 more, either in Hebrew or English. 
 
 God often chooses the foolish things of this world to 
 confound the wise, and He chooses the weak things of 
 the world to confound the things which are mighty, 
 and things which are not to bring to nought things 
 which are, (1 Cor. i. 27.) But we must be prepared for 
 suffering in some form, if we take up a position in the 
 ranks of the noble army of confessors. Ours may not be 
 the martyrdom of the body, but we may have to under - 
 go the martyrdom of the mind. There are writhing 
 feelings as well as writhing limbs, — quivering nerves of 
 the mind as well as of the body, — ■ emptyings and 
 desolations of the heart within, as well as of the home 
 Avithout. St. Paul suffered the loss of all things, yet did 
 he count them but dung so that he might Avin Christ. 
 We marshal in the rank of the noble army of martyrs, 
 only those who have actually shed their life-blood for 
 the Lord ; Ave associate their name with deeds of violence, 
 Avith the halter, the faggot, and the SAvord, but it may 
 be, that God Avill number in that glorious host many 
 Avhom AA^e think of as only confessors, but Avho, if the 
 truth were known, lost their lives for Christ. Yes ! 
 unkind words and looks long protracted cut into their 
 soul ; petty persecutions at length wore them out ; their 
 blood was not spilled upon the earth, but it curdled 
 in their veins, until at last its crimson tide ceased to 
 flow ; the heart stood still ; the victim Avas AA-orn out, 
 and died. J ust as they who have been worn out in the 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 167 
 
 privations of a campaign die as truly a soldier's death^ 
 as they who fall by the bullet or the sword^ so these 
 who are worn out by long continued endurance of 
 despitefulness for Christy are as truly martyrs^ as if they 
 bled upon the block^ or burned at the stake ; they 
 burned with a slow fire at a stake which no man saw ; 
 they bled beneath an axe with which no headsman 
 struck ; they surely have come out of great tribulation^ 
 and their proper place shall be assigned them by the 
 One they so nobly served. 
 
 Let me give two instances of stout confession of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, one from private life, where the 
 confession involved the secret martyrdom ; and the other 
 from more public life, for its scene was the great Indian 
 mutiny, and so far as the religious history of that great 
 catastrophe is concerned, there are few names more 
 memorable than those of which we are about to speak. 
 Let us first retire into the privacy of home. 
 
 “ Now, girls, I have got news for you !” 
 
 The speaker was a showy girl, dressed in the height of 
 fashion. She was just entering the room where sat several 
 young ladies her cousins, pursuing various household employ- 
 ments. 
 
 “What is it, Ada?” cried one and another. 
 
 “ You’ll never believe it ; Lizzy Ashbrook has professed 
 religion !” was the half serious, half laughing reply. 
 
 “Lizzy Ashbrook!” The girls repeated the name, more 
 or less in surprise. 
 
 “ Lizzy Ashbrook,” said the elder cousin, Julia, seriously ; 
 “why 1 she was for ever making sport of the subject.” 
 
 “ And such a fashionable girl ; why, she would hardly look 
 at a person who was ill dressed :” remarked another. 
 
168 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 ‘‘ Her father, an infidel of the rankest sort, too, what will 
 he say ?” 
 
 “ I heard that he had turned her out of the house,” said 
 Ada. 
 
 There was a long silence. 
 
 “Well,” — it was abruptly broken by the youngest of the 
 family, — “ we shall see now if there is the reality in religion 
 that Christians talk about. I don’t believe there is a single 
 person in any branch of her family who is religious. She 
 will have unusual trials to undergo ; I wouldn’t be in her 
 place.” 
 
 “ Trials ! phsaw ! there’s no such thing as persecution in 
 these days ; it would be a rare thing to see a martyr !” This 
 was lightly spoken by Ada, who had been Lizzie’s nearest 
 friend, and who felt an unusual bitterness springing up in her 
 heart towards the young girl, who she knew could no longer 
 enjoy her companionship as of yore. 
 
 The cousins made an early call on Lizzie, who received 
 them with her accustomed grace, and a sweeter smile than 
 usual. Yet she w^as pale, and though there was a purer, a 
 holier expression on her beautifiil face, yet she appeared like 
 one w’earied a little with some external struggle, in which she 
 was the sufferer. Although she did not speak directly of the 
 new vows she had taken upon her, the new peace she had 
 found, her visitors could see clearly and distinctly the won- 
 drous change in dress, in manner, and even in counte- 
 nance. 
 
 Lizzie was engaged in marriage to a thorough-bred man 
 of the world. George Philips loved his wine, his parties, the 
 race course, the theatre, the convivial and free and easy club. 
 The Sabbath was his day of pleasure, and many a time had 
 Lizzie graced his elegant equipage, radiant in beauty, on the 
 holy day, as they swept off to the haunts of the gay — to 
 some hotel — or some meeting of kindred spirits. He bore a 
 
THE ‘ I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 169 
 
 dashing exterioi*, was intellectual — a sparkling wit, courted, 
 caressed, admired everywhere. 
 
 His brow darkened as he heard the news. What ! the 
 girl of bis choice, the woman he would place at the head 
 of his brilliant household become a canting Christian ! Non- 
 sense ! he didn’t believe it ; he would see for himself. He 
 didn’t furnish his parlors for prayer-meetings. He wanted 
 no long-faced ministers to visit his wife, not he. It was a 
 ridiculous hoax. It must have originated in the club-room. 
 What ! the daughter of Harlan Ashbrook, the freest of free 
 thinkers? ‘^Ha! ha! a capital joke — a very clever joke — 
 nothino' more.” 
 
 O 
 
 He called upon her not long after the visit before men- 
 tioned. His cold eye scanned her from head to foot ; but 
 how sweetly, how gently, she met him 1 Surely the voice 
 that was melting music before, was heavenly in its tones now. 
 All the winning grace was there ; all the high-bred ease ; the 
 merry smile dimpled her lips ; but there was a something that 
 thrilled him from head to foot with apprehension, because it 
 was unlike her usual self. What could it be ? 
 
 At length, lightly, laughingly, he referred to the report he 
 had heard. For one moment the frame trembled, the lips 
 refused to speak ; but this passed ; and something like a flush 
 crossed her beautiful face, it lighted the eyes anew, it touched 
 the cheek with a richer crimson, as she said, 
 
 “ George, please don’t treat it as a jest, for truly, thank 
 God! I have become a Christian! O George !” — her clasped 
 hands were laid upon one of his — “I have only just begun to 
 live ! If you kneAV ” 
 
 The proud man sprang to his feet, almost throwing her 
 hands from him in his impatient movement ; and not daring 
 to trust his voice, for an oath Avas uppermost, he walked back 
 and forth for a moment. Then he came and stood before 
 her. His forehead was purpled with the veins that passion 
 
 8 
 
170 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 swelled, his face was white, and his voice unsteady, as he 
 exclaimed : — 
 
 “Do you mean to say that 3^011 will really cast your lot 
 among these people, that for them you will give up all — 
 
 aiir 
 
 “ I ivill give up all for Christ !” The words were very soft 
 and low, and not spoken without reflection. 
 
 For one moment he locked his lips together, till they 
 looked like steel in their rigidity ; then he said, in a full 
 passionate voice : — 
 
 “ Lizzie — Miss Ashbrook — if these are your sentiments, 
 these your intentions, we muat go different ways.” 
 
 This was very cruel — this was a terrible test; for that 
 young girl had, as it were, placed her soul in his keeping. 
 Before a higher, a purer love was born in her heart, she had 
 made up her human love — an absolute idolatry ; and the 
 thought of losing him, even now, caused her cheek to grow 
 ashen and her eyes dim. 
 
 As he saw this, his manner changed to entreaty. He 
 placed before her the position he would give her ; lured her 
 by every argument that might appeal to the womanly heart. 
 And he knew how to win b}^ entreat}^, by the sublest casuistry. 
 His was a masterly eloquence. He could adapt his voice, 
 his language, his very looks, with the most adroit cunning, 
 to the subject and object of his discussion. More than once 
 the gentle spirit of the young Christian felt that she must 
 give way — that only help direct from the fountain of life 
 could sustain her with firmness to resist him to the end of 
 the interview !” 
 
 At last it was a final — “ All this will I give you, if yon 
 will fall down and worship me !” It came to this — “ Christ 
 or me !” There could be no compromise, it was — “ Christ or 
 me.” And standing there, clothed with the mantle of a new 
 and heavenly faith, with its light shining in her heart, and 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 171 
 
 playing over her pale features, she said, with atiniiness worthy 
 the martyrs of old, — “Christ !” 
 
 Though his soul was filled with rage so that he could have 
 gnashed his teeth, the slight figure standing there in its pure 
 white robes against the background of crimson hangings, — 
 the eye that cast an earnest, upward glance, — the brow that 
 seemed to have grown white with spirit-light, — the attitude, 
 so self-possessed yet so modest, so quiet yet so eloquent, filled 
 him with a strange admiring awe. But the hostility towards 
 religion was so strong in his heart, that it bore down all his 
 tenderness, almost crushed his love, and he parted from her 
 for the last time coldly, and like a stranger. 
 
 The engagement was broken off ; but who can tell the 
 struggles it cost? 
 
 This was but the first trial : there came another, while yefc 
 the blow lay heavy on her heart. 
 
 Her father had never been very loving towards her. He 
 was proud of her; she was the brightest gem of his splendid 
 home. She was beautiful, and gratified his vanity; she w^as 
 intellectual, and he heard praise lavished upon her mind, her 
 person, with a miser’s greedy ear, for she was his — a part of 
 himself ; she belonged to him. 
 
 He called her into his stud}^ and required a minute 
 account of the whole matter. He had heard rumors, ho 
 said; had seen a surprising and not agreeable change in her; 
 she had grown mopish, quiet. What was the cause ? It 
 was a great trial, with that stern, unbelieving face, full of 
 hard lines, opposite, to stand and testify for Christ ! But 
 He who has promised, was with her, and she told the story 
 calmly, resolutely. 
 
 “ And do you intend to join the church ?” 
 
 “Yes, sir.” A gleam of hope entered her heart; she did 
 not expect his approval, but she could not think he might 
 refuse to sanction this important step. 
 
172 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 “You know your Aunt Eunice kas long wanted you to 
 become an inmate of her borne.” 
 
 “Yes, sir;” the gentle voice faltered. 
 
 “ Well, you can go now. Unless you give up this absurd 
 idea, and trample it under your feet, I do not wish you to 
 remain with me. Be as you were before, and you shall want 
 for no luxury, no affcctioii ; follow this miserable notion, and 
 henceforth I am only your father in name.” 
 
 She did forsake all for Him ; but her step became slow, 
 her form wasted, her eye hollow, her cheek sunken. The 
 struggle had been too much for a frame unable to cope with 
 any overwhelming sorrow. Her j)astor, as he marked the 
 brilliant hectic and the trembling frame, thought of the 
 graveyard and the mould, — she thought only of the glorious 
 immortality heyond. Swiftly she went down into the valley, 
 but it was not dark to her. Too late the man who had so 
 'sorely tempted her, knelt by the side of her bed and implored 
 her forgiveness. Too late? Xo, not too. late for his own 
 salvation, for in that hour his eyes were opened to the sinful- 
 ness of his life, and by her dying pillow he promised 
 solemnly to give his heart to God. Her father, too, proud 
 infidel though he was, looked on his wasted child, triumphing 
 over death, with wonder and with awe. Such a dying scene 
 it is the privilege of but few to witness; she had given up 
 all^ absolutely all for Christ, and in the last hour she, like 
 Stephen, saw heaven opened. Her face was angelic, her 
 language rapture, her chamber the gate of heaven. And 
 like one who, but the other day, untied the sandals of life 
 and moved calmly and trustingly down the one step between 
 earth and heaven, so she said, with a smile inexpressibly 
 sweet, — “ Sing !” 
 
 And they sang, — 
 
 Eock of ages, cleft for me, 
 
 Let me hide myself in Thee ; 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 173 
 
 Let the water and the blood 
 
 From Thy wounded side which flowed 
 
 Be of sin the double cure, 
 
 Save me from its guilt and power. 
 
 Not the labor of my hands, 
 
 Can fulfill Thy law’s demands, 
 
 Could my zeal no respite know, 
 
 Could my tears for ever flow. 
 
 All for sin could not atone, 
 
 Thou must save, and Thou alone. 
 
 Nothing in my hand I bring. 
 
 Simply to Thy cross I cling ; 
 
 Naked, come to Thee for dress. 
 
 Guilty, plead Thy righteousness ; 
 
 Vile, I to the fountain fly. 
 
 Wash me, Saviour, or I die ! 
 
 While I draw this fleeting breath, 
 
 When my eyelids close in death. 
 
 When I rise to worlds unknown. 
 
 See Thee on Thy judgment throne, 
 
 Eock of ages, cleft for me, 
 
 Let me hide myself in Thee ! 
 
 At its close they heard one word — the last. It was — 
 
 “ Christ.” 
 
 And now let us change the scene and behold a con- 
 fessor, yes, many confessors, witnessing for Christ and 
 confessing Him at the peril of immediate death. 
 
 ^^The Eev. Gopenath Nundy, a native missionary of 
 the American Presbyterian Board, was stationed at 
 Futtehpur, where he had been a faithful laborer for 
 several years. When the insurrection broke out, he 
 and his family escaped without much difficulty to Al- 
 lahabad. Finding the fort much crowded with Euro- 
 pean families, and thinking that, as a native, ho could 
 
174 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 make his way in comparative safety, he set out, with 
 his wife and two children, for Mirzapur. They had not 
 gone far before they fell into the hands of robbers, who 
 stripped off their clothing, and otherwise cruelly treated 
 them. With difficulty they returned to Allahabad. Of 
 their subsequent sufferings he has drawn up the follow- 
 ing narrative, which we have taken from the pages of 
 the Foreign Missionary,' for November, 1857. 
 
 We inquired from our host about the fort, and the 
 fate of the Europeans who were in it. The poor man, 
 as far as his knowledge extended, said the fort was 
 taken by the mutineers, and its inmates murdered. 
 This sad news, at this critical time, grieved us greatly, 
 and brought us to utter despair. Our host, seeing us in 
 such a state, said that a moulwi had come from Kurria 
 with some men, to shelter and help the distressed and 
 afflicted, without any distinction of creed or color. 
 This was rather cheering news, and we made up our 
 minds to go to him. About sunset Ave directed our 
 course towards that side, and when Ave came near the 
 police station-house, we found out that he Avas hostile to 
 the English; and all the Christians, Avhether European 
 or native, brought before him Avere massacred. This 
 greatly alarmed us, but to turn our course in any other 
 direction then Avas utterly impossible, as Ave Avere sur- 
 rounded by thousands of infuriated Mussulmans ; so Ave 
 made up our minds to go to the moulAAU, and throAv 
 ourselves on his mercy, to do Avith us as it pleased him, 
 either to kill or spare our lives. Accordingly Ave went 
 to him, but, before reaching his place our lives Avero 
 often in jeopardy by those Avho surrounded us, for they 
 Avanted to kill us, but Ave besought them not to do so 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 175 
 
 until we had an interview with their head, the moulwi. 
 They accordingly brought us to him. We found him 
 seated on a chair^ attended by a number of men with 
 drawn swords^ and he put the following questions to us, 
 viz. : — ^ Who are you ^ A Christian.' ^ What jdace 
 do you come from ?’ ^Futtehpur.' ^ What was your 
 occupation ?’ ^ Preaching and teaching the Christian 
 
 religion.' ^ Are you a Padre ?' ^ Yes, sir.' ^ Was it 
 
 not you who used to go about reading, and distributing 
 tracts in the streets and villages ^ Yes, sir, it was I 
 and my catechists.' ^ How 'many Christians have you 
 made ?’ ^ I did not make any Christians, for no human 
 
 being can change the heart of another ; but God, 
 through my instrumentality, brought to the belief of 
 His true religion about a couple of dozen.' To this the 
 man exclaimed in a great rage, and said, ^ Tobah ! to- 
 bah ! (fy ! fy !) such a downright blasphemy ! God 
 never makes a person a Christian, but you Kafirs — In- 
 fidels — pervert the people. He always makes Moham- 
 medans, for the religion which they follow is the only 
 true one. How many Mohammedans have you per- 
 verted to your religion ^ I have not perverted any 
 one, but, by the grace of God, ten were turned from 
 darkness into the glorious light of the gospel.' Hearing 
 this, the man's countenance became as red as hot iron, 
 and he said, ^ You are a great haramzuda (a wicked 
 rogue). You renounced your forefather's faith and be- 
 came a child of Shoytan (Satan), and now use every 
 effort to bring others in the same road to destruction. 
 You deserve a cruel death : your nose, ears, and hands 
 should be cut off at different times, so as to make your 
 sufferings continue for some time, and your children be 
 
176 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 ke]3t in slavery." To this, Mrs. Nundy said to the 
 moulwi, ^ You will confer a very great favor by order- 
 ing to kill us all at once, and not torture us." After 
 having kept silent for a while, he exclaimed, ^ Soovan 
 Allah ! (Praise be to Grod !) You appear to be a re- 
 spectable man : I pity you and your family. I, as a 
 friend, advise you to be Mohammedans : by doing so 
 you will not only save your lives, but will be raised to 
 a high rank." My answer to this was, that we prefer- 
 red death to any inducement he could hold out. Then 
 the man made an appeal to my wife, and asked her 
 what she meant to do. Thank Grod, her answer was as 
 firm as mine. She said she was ready to sacrifice her 
 life in preference to any inducement he held out as to 
 the renouncement of the true religion of J esus. The 
 moulwi then asked if I had read the Koran. My an- 
 swer was ^ Yes." He then said I could not have read it 
 with a view to be profited by it, but simply picked pas- 
 sages to argue with Mohammedans. However, he said 
 he would allow us three days" time to think over the 
 matter, and then he would send for us, and read a por- 
 tion of the Koran : if we believed, and became Moham- 
 medans, all right and good, but if otherwise, our noses 
 were to be cut off. We further said there was no occa- 
 sion to wait till that time : as long as God continues 
 His grace we will not renounce our faith ; so he had 
 better at once order our heads to be taken off. He 
 then pointed to his people to take us to prison. It 
 was a part of the Sarie Avhere travelers put up, guarded 
 by his men, with drawn swords, not very far from him. 
 
 While on the way to the prison, I raised my heart 
 in praise and adoration to the Lord Jesus for giving us 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 177 
 
 grace to stand firm^ and to overcome all the tempta- 
 tions which the moulwi held forth ; and^ Avhile repeat- 
 ing the 11th and 12th verses of the 5th chapter of St. 
 Matthew^ I thanked Him for counting us worthy to 
 suffer for His name’s sake. When we reached the 
 place of our imprisonment^ we found two other Chris- 
 tian families, one native and the other European ; the 
 former from Mr. Hay’s printing establishment, and the 
 latter, Mr. Conductor Colman, his wife, and five chil- 
 dren. We felt extremely sorry, seeing them thrown in 
 the same difficulty as ourselves. After conversing and 
 relating each other’s distress, I asked them to join with 
 us in prayer, to which they all of them readily agreed ; 
 and when we knelt down, one of the guards came and 
 gave a kick on my back, ordering me to keep quiet, or 
 pray according to Mahommedan form. Our lips were 
 truly closed, hut our hearts were in communion with 
 Him who required the emotions of our hearts more 
 than the utterances of our lips. Next day. Ensign 
 Cheek, an officer of the late 6th Native Infantry, was 
 brought in : he made his escape when his regiment re- 
 belled, and his bearer took him on the other side of the 
 river Ganges. There he was attacked by a Jemadar, 
 and some other people, who wounded him most cru- 
 elly. He made his escape from their wicked hands, and 
 hid himself for three days. At nights he used to hide 
 himself in a tree, and, during the day, he kept himself 
 under water with his face above the water. At last, 
 when he was exhausted, and could not keep himself 
 hidden any longer, he was brought, with severe and 
 putrid sores, to the moulwi as a prisoner, who sent him 
 where we were. 
 
 8 * 
 
178 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 His sufferings were excessively great and severe : he 
 was unable to sit up or lie down on the bare ground, 
 which we all had to do ; but a prisoner, and hated 
 the most, yet felt it my duty to do what I could to re- 
 lieve the agonies of poor Cheek. I went up to the 
 Daroga (jailor), and begged him hard to allow him a 
 charpoy (coarse bedstead). The hard-hearted jailor 
 condescended to grant my petition with the greatest re- 
 luctance, and though he gave a charpoy, yet it was a 
 broken one, for their object was to see how much we 
 could suffer. He was in a state of fainting, and evi- 
 dently sinking, as he had had no food for three days 
 and nights. We had a little chert too and gur, which 
 we brought with us before coming to the prison, and 
 which I turned with a little water into a kind of gruel, 
 and gave it to him. Taking this, and drinking a full 
 mud-pot of water, he felt greatly refreshed, and opened 
 his eyes. Finding me a fellow-prisoner, and a mission- 
 ary, he opened his heart at once to me, and told the 
 history of his sufferings : he also requested me to write 
 to his mother in England, and aunt, which I intend to 
 do as soon as I can spare time. The wicked Daroga, 
 finding that I was attentive and kind to poor Cheek, 
 ordered my feet to be fastened to the stocks, after which 
 they removed me into a different place, thus causing a 
 separation, not only from Ensign Cheek, but from my 
 ] 30 or family. To this I made a great resistance, and a 
 body of the rebels fell upon us with weapons, and forced 
 my feet into the stocks, at the same time holding out 
 the offer of pardon if I became a Mohammedan. They 
 dragged my poor wife by the hair, and she received a 
 severe wound on the forehead. While they were mal- 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 179 
 
 treating us so cruelly^ poor Cheek cheered our spirits by 
 saying, ^ Padre, Padre, be firm, be firm, do not give 
 way.' His meaning was, do not become Mohammedans. 
 
 At this time the danger of our lives was most im- 
 minent, and the temptation was strongest, but the Lord 
 delivered us from their wretched designs, and rescued 
 us from the snares of Satan. To aggravate my suffer- 
 ings, they put me out with the stocks in the hot burn- 
 ing sun. But notwithstanding all the exposure to the 
 sun, and hot winds, and privations, our gracious 
 heavenly Father did not permit the disease in my 
 head to be increased, but it remained as it was 
 before. 
 
 We were in the prison from Wednesday the 10th 
 to Tuesday the 16th. All this time our sufferings were 
 great indeed, for, for our food we received only a hand- 
 ful of parched grain in the middle of the day, and at 
 night a single cliapaty (a cake made of coarse flour, 
 about three ounces in weight). Water was supplied 
 only twice daily, and that sparingly. Every five min- 
 utes the Mohammedans used to come and threaten to 
 take our lives if we did not become Mussulmans. Once 
 an ill-educated moulwi came with a portion of the 
 Koran, and read a part from it. When I asked the 
 meaning thereof, he could not give it, as he himself was 
 ignorant of it. To this I answered, ^ How can you ex- 
 pect to make proselytes of others, when you yourself do 
 not understand what you read ?' 
 
 Instead of the moulwi sending for us on the third 
 day, as he arranged at first, he came himself on the 
 sixth day, and drawing near to us, he inquired of the 
 Darago where the Padre prisoner was ; and when I was 
 
180 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 pointed out, he asked me if I were comfortable. My 
 answer was, ^ How can I be comfortable when my feet 
 are in the stocks ? but I take it patiently, as it is the 
 will of our Heavenly Father.' I then begged of him to 
 order a little milk to be given to our baby, which was 
 in a state of starvation. He reluctantly gave the order, 
 which Avas never executed. 
 
 The moulwi left nothing untried to make us con- 
 verts to his faith. He made our sufferings of the worst 
 kind, threatening to take our lives every moment ; and 
 yet why he spared us I cannot tell. It was, I believe, 
 tliat he thought it would promote his glory, and that 
 of his religion, by making us converts and preachers of 
 the same, more than by killing us, who are but natives 
 like himself. Whatever it was, this much I know, that 
 the finger of God directed the whole course. He sent 
 these dangers and difficulties no doubt to try our faith, 
 and gave us grace sufficient to make a full confession 
 of it before the world. The saving of our lives was a 
 miracle, for they were no less exposed than that of 
 Daniel of old. Thanks be to the all-protecting hand 
 of God ! 
 
 On the sixth day of our imprisonment, that is, on 
 the 15th of June, Captain Brazier came out Avitli some 
 European and Sikh soldiers to meet the enemy : he had 
 a regular fight not very far from the place Avhere we 
 were confined, and totally defeated them. 
 
 The next morning, about three A. M., the enemy 
 retreated, and forsook Allahabad, leaving us prisoners. 
 When Ave saAv that they Ava’e all gone, Ave broke the 
 stocks, and came into the fort, Avhere our Missionary 
 brethren, Messrs. Owen and Munnis, rejoiced and wel- 
 
THE ‘‘I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 181 
 
 corned us in their quarters. They all heard that we had 
 been killed by the mutineers.'^' 
 
 To the above we may add the instance of the stout squire, Peter 
 Paasch, although we cannot of course approve of his striking the 
 Turk. 
 
 In the year lll7, there was a great war between the Germans 
 and the Turks. The good and brave Marshal, Prince Eugene, won 
 many glorious victories over the infidels, and so great was the patriotic 
 spirit excited all over Germany, that nearly every village sent a con- 
 tingent to aid the Emperor’s army against the unbelieving foe. From 
 the village of Ilermannsburg rode forth the bravo knight, Staffhorst, 
 vrith his two squires, Peter Paasch and Hans Pufiel. In the great 
 battle near Belgrade, in which the Germans were victorious, Puffel 
 was killed, as he was rescuing his hardly-pressed master from the 
 liands of the Turks. Staffhorst fell at the subsequent storming of 
 Belgrade, after he had forced his way into the city. Peter Paasch, 
 full of grief at the death of his beloved master, pursued the flying 
 Turks so rashly, that he was surrounded by the fugitives outside the 
 walls and taken prisoner. They tied him to his horse’s tail, a Turk 
 mounted the horse, and Paasch was obliged to run by the side, naked 
 and barefoot, for the Turks had robbed him of everything. Late in 
 the evening they halted in the wood where they thought they wore 
 safe from the Christians, and now they determined to take their long 
 desired revenge on the Christian prisoner, for they had remarked how 
 many Turks Paasch had slain in the battle. So first they placed two 
 sticks in the form of a cross, one over the other; they spat on this 
 cross, and endeavored, by blows and tortures, to force Paasch to do 
 the same. But Paasch, who was now unbound from the horse, and 
 fi’om whom no resistance was expected, struck the Turk who had 
 spitten on the cross, so violently about the cars, that they again bound 
 his hands and feet together. Then they cut him with knives and 
 daggers to force him to spit on the cross, and as all this was of no 
 avail, they nailed both his hands over his head to the trunk of a tree, 
 and tried, by horsewhippings, and the wounds caused thereby, to make 
 him pronounce the name of Mohammed. But as often as they re- 
 peated this name, he said, ‘-Jesus Christ.” Then the enemies of the 
 Lord determined to kindle a fire at his feet, and thus to make him 
 deny Christ, or kill him by the tortures of a fiery death. When 
 
182 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 Who can tell ? perhaps the confessors in the home 
 circle, and these of the Indian mutiny may not find 
 themselves far aj)art in the position assigned them for 
 eternity. 
 
 We hope that our readers will not think that we have 
 been too long in coming to the I will '' of Christ — that 
 blessed wilP' which follows on all this confession, and 
 it may be suffering ; which sweetens its darkest trials to 
 the Christian, and enables him, by grace, to go forward 
 through its most rugged passes. 
 
 The promise, then, of our blessed Lord is, that who- 
 soever confesses Him before men, him will He confess 
 
 Paasch saw that his end was so near at hand, he prayed, with earnest 
 and devout voice, the Lord’s Prayer, and repeated the Creed ; and the 
 Lord gave the brave warrior such peace in his heart, that he even prayed 
 for his murderers, as our Saviour did, and the holy Stephen. And he 
 was now filled with such loft}’-, celestial joy, that he could not refrain 
 from singing, with strong, deep voice, the grand old Passion chant, “ Oh, 
 innocent Lamb of God, slain on the cross for us,” &c. When he had 
 sung to the end of the third verse, and ended with the words, “ Grant us 
 thy peace, 0 Jesus, Amen,” the clang of trumpets was heard from with- 
 out the forest. German horsemen rode in, the Turks fled, and the horse- 
 men beheld, with astonishment, Paasch nailed to the tree, and tlie fire at 
 his feet. They at once unbound him, and he fell fainting in their arms. 
 After they had bound up his many wounds, washed him, and provided 
 him with clothes, he came to himself again, and his first question was, 
 how God had sent them to him just at the right moment. They replied, 
 “We were sent out in pursuit of the Turks, when we heard from the for- 
 est the song, ‘ Oh, innocent Lamb of God.’ That is a Christian, said we, 
 and rode into the wood ; the Lamb of God, whom thou trustedst, has 
 saved thee.” They then brought Paasch to Belgrade. The story came 
 to the ears of the good Prince Eugene, who ordered him to be well cared 
 for, visited him himself, and rejoiced in his simple, child-like faith, and, 
 as he was no longer fit for service, sent him back to his country. He 
 lived ten years afterwards, and died, in I’? 2 8, in faith, after he had sung 
 for the last time, “ Oh, innocent Lamb of God.” 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 183 
 
 before the Father and before the angels which are in 
 heaven. 
 
 Verily I say unto you^ he shall in no wise lose his 
 reward/' is the language of Scripture ; not only with 
 regard to those who give a cup of cold water in the 
 name of Christ, but also with regard to every one who 
 does anything for Jesus, be it great or small. There are 
 great rewards like jewelled crowns ; there are little 
 rewards like diamond dust ; the great deed of love shall 
 receive its great reward, and the little deed shall receive 
 its measure too ; and so it shall be found hereafter that 
 nothing was forgotten. 
 
 We have already considered the history of some who 
 confessed their God even at the j:>eril of their lives, and 
 these three men have doubtless in no wise lost their 
 reward. They found in those furnace fires jewels of 
 immeasurable price, and they won in that short sharp 
 trial, glory which they shall wear in peace for ever and 
 for ever. They had respect to the recompense of the 
 reward ; and now let us see whether there be not some- 
 thing to encourage us also, so that we, like they, may 
 confess our Lord. 
 
 Our great encouragement is the confession which 
 Christ will make of those by whom He is confessed. 
 
 Whosoever^ therefore^ shall confess me hefore men him 
 tvill I confess also, hefore my Father which is in heaven!' 
 
 Now the first point to which we are to direct our 
 attention is 
 
 The 'personality of this confession. Individuals are 
 to be acknowledged or confessed by an individual — 
 ^ men,' by ^ the man Christ Jesus.' 
 
 There shall be an individual owning of the confessor. 
 
184 
 
 THE “ I WILL OF CONFESSION. 
 
 — ^ him' loill I cooifess'' No doubt there shall hereafter 
 be a great glorifying of holy principles ; these principles 
 are at present vilified and trampled under foot by the 
 Avorld ; they are not the principles which are in fashion, 
 or which attract favorable attention, or which secure 
 the admiration of the world ; but hereafter they shall 
 be glorified and admired, when God comes to set all 
 principles of action in their proper light. 
 
 All this is very comforting ; it will be a great 
 triumph to the believer to see the principles on which he 
 acted, acknowledged as the true ones by God, but we 
 have before us a still brighter prospect than this. Prin- 
 ciples and 'persons are here linked together ; and Christ 
 will acknowledge Plis people man hy man. ^ Him' will I 
 confess ; the personal element at once invests this con- 
 fession of our Lord with a vividness and distinctness 
 which gives us the highest interest in it. The triumph 
 of holy principles will be embodied in individuals ; 
 Jesus will confess as His, every one who confessed Him. 
 The man who has made a great discovery, knows what 
 it is to be received with acclamation by his fellow man ; 
 the man that has fought and won great battles, bears, in 
 the stars and medals on his breast, the history of his 
 achievements, and has a patent of nobility conferred 
 on him : both these men may have only pushed to 
 their legitimate conclusions principles previously well- 
 known, but they themselves are honored ; so it will be 
 with the saints ; they, the confessors, shall receive in 
 their own persons the reward of the confession they 
 have made. 
 
 The personal interest is the strongest that can be ap- 
 pealed to in man ; and it is here used by Christ. He 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 185 
 
 says to you, dear reader, you confess me, I will 
 confess you — not only will I put you amongst a class 
 who shall he blessed, but I will acknowledge you as an 
 individual ; you shall not be lost or merged in a crowd ; 
 you shall occupy your own distinct place in my estima- 
 tion ; you shall have your own distinct position amongst 
 the millions of the redeemed ; you shall have your own 
 personal feelings of happiness and triumph. 
 
 It is not selfishness to enjoy the thought of this, or to 
 allow it to liave some place in energizing us for Christ. 
 God gave us our own individual beings, that we may be 
 responsible in them, and that we may feel them and He 
 meant our personal hopes and fears to be instruments 
 in influencing us to what is right, and keeping us from 
 what is wrong ; and we may be cheered and energized by 
 the thought, that we shall individually be confessed of 
 Christ ; if I suffer in my confession upon earth, or am 
 put to shame because of it, I may encourage myself by 
 the thought that I also am to be blest by Christ's con- 
 fession of me in heaven. Oh ! think of this, and the 
 vividness with which the future will thus be clothed, 
 will give a vividness to the present also ; you will say, 
 ^Ht is not enough that Christ should he confessed, I 
 must confess Him," and you will ask yourselves more 
 particularly, Wherein do I confess Him now ? 
 
 Oh ! it is a wonderful thought, that each confessor 
 shall come out with personal distinctness hereafter, — 
 that Christ will think each one worth confessing, — that 
 He will say, I own such a one, and such a one 
 for mine.’' Here is a poor creature who now stands 
 alone in the family witnessing for Christ, in all meek- 
 ness, amid the indifference of some, and the taunts and 
 
186 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 sneers of others. Christ will hereafter say before the 
 angels and His Father^ I aknowledge thee;'' and here 
 is a Sabbath School teacher^ and here is a servant, and 
 here is a little child, all nobodies in the estimation of 
 the world ; but Christ recognizes them above, and re- 
 members how they filled up their little circles of daily 
 service, and stoutly confessed Him before their fellows ; 
 and now He calls them — his own sheep by name, and 
 says, I confess thee, and thee, and thee.'' 
 
 And following upon that — Christ's individuality of 
 confession — will be Christ's individuality of reward ; 
 then He will say, ^ AVell done, good and faithful servant, 
 enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." There will no 
 doubt be a general word for all, — Come ye blessed of 
 my Father but there will also be a particular word 
 for each, — Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 
 
 And it will be for you, dear reader, to ask yourself, 
 whether you be now so personally and individually in 
 confession for Christ, that you have reason to believe 
 that you will personally be confessed by Him. After 
 having been nothing particular on earth, it is not 
 reasonable to expect to be some one particular in 
 heaven ; and unless you be accounted worthy by Christ 
 of particular notice, you will not be accounted worthy 
 of anything at all. In that day, when men shall be 
 known by what they were, and by what they did, what 
 shall be known of you ? Oh ! this is a solemn thought for 
 many who read these lines ; when it comes down to the 
 particulars of confession of Christ — when no mere vague 
 generalities will be admitted, — where will you be found ? 
 
 Him ivilll confess j" — ^^him — are there not, alas ! too 
 many, of whom the question might be asked — what can 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 187 
 
 be said of and May all readers of 
 
 these lines lay hold of this subject^ and solemnly question 
 themselves^ ^Svherein am / individually a confessor 
 When Jesus speaks^ and grounds what He says upon 
 definite acts in the past — what ! oh^ what will He say 
 to me ? And as this offers a subject for very solemn 
 enquiry to some^ so does it also offer very solid en- 
 couragement and comfort to others. 
 
 Encourage yourselves to personal confession^ by the 
 soul-inspiriting thought of being personally confessed. 
 Do not, with a mistaken humility, cast away from you 
 that which Gfod intends to be a great encouragement — 
 the certainty of your being personally acknowledged by 
 Christ. To us it may seem too much to be confessed 
 by Christ, beforesuch men as Paul, that beaten, and im- 
 prisoned, and stoned, and shipwrecked man ; or before 
 those three, who fell down bound into the midst of the 
 burning fiery furnace ; or before that solitary man, who 
 spent an awful night within the lions' den. We might say. 
 Who are we that we should hold up our heads amongst 
 those who had trials of cruel mockings and scourgings, 
 yea, moreover, of bonds and imprisonments ? Who are we 
 that we should be mentioned before such as were stoned 
 and sawn asunder, tempted, and slain with the sword ; be- 
 fore men who had to wander about in sheep-skins and 
 goat-skins, being destitute and afflicted, and tormented, of 
 whom the world was not worthy ? Shall we w^ho dwell, 
 even in the worst cases, comparatively at ease, be men- 
 tioned in the presence of those who once had to wander 
 in deserts, and in mountains, and in dens and caves of 
 the earth Yes ! who and what are we, that we should 
 expect all this ? We are, in our own sphere, confessors 
 
188 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSIO>sL 
 
 for Jesus before men^ — we are men^ as marked in our 
 testimony in the work-shop^ or the drawing-room^ or the 
 counting-house, as these were in the den, the prison, and 
 the cave ; we are men Avho oj)enly and unmistakably 
 confess Christ, and who humbly, yet faithfully, lay our 
 hand upon his own promise, Whosoever ^ therefore^ shall 
 confess me before men^ him ivilll confess also^ before my 
 Father luhich is in heaven. 
 
 We see then, that there shall bean individual owning 
 of a person, even the confessor ; let us now turn our 
 consideration for a few moments to the fact that the 
 individual confessor shall be acknowledged by an indi- 
 vidual Christ, If there be much important teaching for 
 us in the foot that it is as ^^persons,'' that believers shall 
 be acknowledged, there is much teaching in the fact that 
 it is a person/' an individual, who is to acknowledge 
 them — even Jesus Christ Himself : ^^him will I confess/' 
 There will be personal confession for personal service. 
 As Jesus Himself served, so Jesus Himself ^\i\\ 
 acknowledge the service. He will say, Come ye 
 blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for 
 you from the foundation of the world ; for I was an 
 hungered and ye gave me meat ; I was thirsty and ye 
 gave niQ drink ; I was a stranger and ye took me in ; 
 naked and ye clothed me ; I was sick and ye visited me ; 
 I was in prison and ye came unto me. Verily I say 
 unto you : Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the 
 least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." 
 
 And if we think for a moment, we can see, how here 
 also the introduction of the personal element increases 
 the greatness of the reward. If we look no further than 
 human sovereignties, we see that it is considered a great 
 
THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 189 
 
 enhancement of a reward^ if it be given by the sovereign 
 ill person. He who wears the cross which men receive 
 for deeds of special valor, thinks all the more of his 
 distinction, if the sovereign have with her own hands 
 pinned it on his breast ; and personal receptions, and 
 autograph letters, and all into which the living individual 
 sovereign enters, are far more highly prized than vdiat is 
 official and nothing more. 
 
 Now, He who will hereafter confess and reward His 
 poeople, will doubtless do so in the character of a mighty 
 king. ^^Then shall the King say unto them at His right 
 hand.'' Biit it is not in his official capacity alone that 
 He will speak, but in His personal also. The living being 
 and energy of Christ will enter into his words, and give 
 them depth and life ; all who hear them will know that 
 His heart goes out to those to whom they are spoken ; 
 there will be intense reality in what He says. 
 
 And, even from ordinary life, we can gather what a 
 great increase the happiness of the saints will receive 
 from the fact, that Jesus Himself will, with His own 
 lips, tell them that He owns them. Do not we ourselves 
 realize a power in the spoken word which we do not feel 
 in a message or a letter, even though the substance be 
 in each instance the same ! When a person tells us he 
 loves, or hates, face to face, do not his tones of voice tell 
 it ? do not his eyes tell it ? do not the very muscles of 
 his face tell it ? assuming that he be earnest in his love 
 or hate — no letter, no messenger could tell us what that 
 living, breathing man does, whose very being is thrown 
 into the feelings he would express. And if it be thus 
 with these sluggish natures of ours, poor and unim- 
 passioned, compared with a spiritual nature like our 
 
190 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 Lord's^ oil ! can we not see what a great enhancement it 
 will he of the joy of the acknowledged saints^ that it is 
 hy Christ in ^person that they are confessed ? 
 
 No doubC even without this^ it would be well worth 
 our while to confess our Lord ; even if Jesus never 
 spake^ yet would it not have been well worth our while 
 to have confessed Him^ if at His command some high 
 archangel proclaimed aloud^ with trumpet voice, our 
 names and our acceptance by our Lord ; if listening 
 myriads, with rapt attention, were gathered round, and 
 the silence were to be broken by my name or by yours. 
 Who would not buy at the cost of all he has (if it could 
 be j)urchased by gold), the weighty honor of being thus 
 proclaimed — of having it said of him by the high angelic 
 herald, the King of kings and Lord of lords confesses 
 him as His — owns him from His heart's core before 
 cherubim and serajihim, before martyrs and apostles 
 and prophets, before all the hosts of heaven ? But that 
 which is in store for every man who confesses Jesus 
 Christ in truth, is more than this. Jesus will not 
 delegate to any of the heavenly hosts, the privilege of 
 proclaiming the name of the man that He will confess 
 before the Father ; that He reserves for Himself — 
 will confess before my Father ivhich is in heaven!’ 
 
 Oh ! if we think coldly of Christ's thus personally 
 confessing us, is it not because we are, alas ! only too 
 cold in our own dull hearts ? Hearts palpitate and 
 bosoms heave and pant, and thrillings undefinable 
 vibrate through all the mysterious chords of our being, 
 at the sound of the voice of one we intensely love ; and 
 shall it be a matter of indifference to us, that we shall 
 hear the voice of Jesus calling us — His sheep — by 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 191 
 
 name, and confessing us before His Father that is in 
 heaven ? May it not be so — may our dull and laggard 
 natures wake up — may our appreciation of true honor 
 become more vivid — may our love to Jesus become more 
 personal, more intense ; and then we shall feel the 
 power of that wondrous promise, Whosoever there- 
 fore shall confess me before men^ him will I confess 
 also, before my Father which is in heaven I’' 
 
 There is yet one more aspect of this personal con- 
 fession of Christ, at which we must glance, i, e, : — 
 
 The great value that is to be attached to it from our 
 Lord's omniscience, and from His authority to judge. 
 
 A confession of our being His, will be indeed of solid 
 Avorth when made by Christ. With that confession will 
 go forth all the authority and weight which must attach, 
 in heaven, to every word that is uttered by Him. 
 
 And how entirely will that confession of Christ 
 stamp the genuineness of every one whose name He will 
 confess ! Be it so, that in his earthly career there were 
 many short-comings and imperfections — that, even in 
 the judgment, the evil one could bring many things 
 against him. Jesus, who knows the heart, has pro- 
 nounced His confession of the poor believer as His own ; 
 henceforth, conscience, and devils, and evil men, and all 
 who would accuse must hold their tongue. 
 
 Dear readers, Jesus knows who is confessing Him 
 and who is not ; and none who are thus confessing can 
 be hid. If you Avere hidden to Jesus now, you must be 
 unknoAvn to him in that day when He will confess those 
 and those only who have confessed Him. 
 
 Question yourselves, then, ^^Avhat does Jesus knoAv 
 
192 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF CONFESSION. 
 
 of me now — what grounds will He have for confessing 
 me by and bye ? Oh^ think of your honor, should He, 
 who knows all hearts and lives, acknowledge you as 
 His — how genuine you will then know yourself to be, 
 and others shall know you to bo ; and how safe^ for, 
 when within the veiy shadow of the judgment-seat 
 your Lord has confessed you as His own, who can 
 impeach you in the position which that confession gives ? 
 
 Away, then, shall flee all fears as to whether you be 
 Christ's or no — away shall flee all depressions and 
 doubts, and that for ever ; Christ Himself will have 
 proclaimed you as His ; acknowledged you ! named you ! 
 glorified you ! and there can be no more room for fear ! 
 
 Come then, and let all readers who know the Lord, 
 confess Him henceforth with more courage and distinct- 
 ness than ever, remembering what is in store for them — 
 even confession of them by Jesus in His glory.*'*' Men 
 who, perhaps, are civil enough to their 2)oor relations 
 when no one particular is near, often slight them when 
 grand people are at hemd ; but Jesus will not act thus ; 
 great indeed is the disproportion between our confessing 
 Him^ and His confessing its; but He will confess us 
 before the angels of heaven ; before sainted martyrs and 
 prophets and apostles — yea ! why speak we at all of 
 these, before the mighty Lord of all — the Father — the 
 Most High Himself — Whosoever therefore shall con- 
 fess me before men^ him loill I confess also^ before my 
 FATHER luhich is in heaven!'' 
 
 * “ Life is sweet,” said Sir Anthony Kingston to Bishop Hooper at the 
 stake, trying to persuade him to recant, “and death bitter.” “True, 
 friend,” he replied, “ but consider that death to come is more bitter, and 
 the life to come more sweet.” 
 
''I Mill" of Sertria. 
 
 
 Matthew iv. 19. 
 

Matthew iv. 19. 
 
 ‘‘Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.” 
 
 S God clothed the immortal soul in a body of 
 clay, so Christ clothed immortal truths in 
 homely images and words, condescending to 
 use for His high purpose even the commonest 
 circumstances of daily life. The bread which men 
 handled and ate, was made the medium of teaching high 
 truth about the bread of life ; the little children who 
 formed part of their earthly households were made to 
 shadow forth the mind and character of those who 
 should be of the household of God ; the hairs upon the 
 head, the fowls in the air, the lilies of the field, all 
 formed simple texts from which He, the great teacher, 
 drew forth most wondrous truths. 
 
 And here we find our Lord making use of one of the 
 commonest avocations of daily life in commissioning two 
 of His disciples. He tells them what He will make them, 
 even by reminding them of what they are — fishers of fish 
 shall become fishers of men. 
 
196 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 We need have no hesitation in giving this subject a 
 place in the present volume, for the words of our Lord 
 speak not only to Simon and Andrew, but to all who 
 hear and obey (even . as they did) the solemn words 
 ‘^Follow Me.'' Every one that follows Christ is to 
 become a fisher of men ; and no man can be a true 
 fisher of men unless he be a follower of Him. 
 
 It is the earnest desire of the writer to Avin, by the 
 Spirit's influence, some of the readers of this chapter to 
 become fishers of men. Why stand ye here, all the 
 day idle are the Avords of the blessed Jesus, Himself 
 a toilsome worker ; yes, Avhy are not belicAnrs Avorking 
 for their Lord ? Why call ye Me, Lord, Lord, and do 
 not the things that I say Why are souls perishing 
 and Christians idling ? May this chapter be a net, the 
 meshes of Avhich Avill catch some at least of its readers ; 
 happy indeed Avill the author of it be, if his Lord should 
 say of it, I Avill make it a fisher of men." 
 
 Let us classify Avhat Ave Avould say upon this subject 
 under these three heads : 
 
 I. The Appointment 
 
 II. The Work 
 
 III. The Eeward 
 
 And now, I. Who is it that appoints the fishers ? It 
 is the blessed Lord Jesus Christ ; the One of Avhom it is 
 said in Psalm viii., Thou madest Him to have dominion 
 over the works of Thy hands. Thou hast put all things 
 under his feet, all sheep and oxen, yea, and the beasts 
 of the field, the fowl of the air, and the fish of the sea, 
 and Avhatsoever passeth through the paths of the seas." 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 197 
 
 The One who appoints^ is the One into whose hands all 
 things are committed of the Father, and it is in His 
 power and wisdom that this fishing is to be carried on. 
 
 The Lord's people are sent to fish by One who knows 
 where each fish is to be found. When the piece of 
 money was wanted, and it was to be supplied through 
 the instrumentality of a fish, that particular fish was 
 brought to the apostle's hook ; this should afford great 
 comfort to the people of God ; their Master does not 
 send, them forth on hap-hazard ; He knows and appoints 
 with the finest minuteness every item connected with 
 their success. There is no pursuit so uncertain as fish- 
 ing for fish, none more certain than fishing for men. 
 The word wherewith we fish has this said of it, My 
 word shall not return to Me void." 
 
 He who brought the solitary fish to the apostle's 
 hook was also the One who brought the miraculous 
 draught to the net ; at His word the net was let down, 
 and the draught was great. We are commanded to go 
 forth by the very One who has the power of giving us 
 good speed. Special direction will, no doubt, be given 
 in the providence of God, as to where and when we are 
 to fish ; but the very fact of our following Christ com- 
 pels us to become fishers on His behalf How many 
 spheres are open to us for this fishing, we shall jire- 
 sently see. 
 
 Let us now turn our attention for a while to the 
 Avork of the fishers of men. 
 
 What is this work ? It is the attempt to influence 
 souls for Christ, and to draw them out of the world to 
 Him ; the watching all opportunities of drawing the 
 attention of careless men to divine things, and bringing 
 
198 
 
 THE I WILL ” OF SEKVICE. 
 
 them, in knowledge of their need, to the cross of Christ. 
 What Cecil says of a minister, is in its measure true of 
 all Christians, He is a fisherman, and the fisherman 
 must fit himself to his employment. If some fish will 
 bite only by day, he must fish by day ; if others will 
 bite only by moonlight, he must fish for them by moon- 
 light.’' 
 
 Now, it has been well remarked, '•'* that there is here a 
 relation of the conscious agent to the unconscious subject; 
 the fisherman, vrith all his human intelligence and skill, 
 is represented as coming into contact with the fish in 
 Avhich there is no knowledge ; and in divine things, the 
 fisherman for Christ, himself possessed of a knowledge 
 of eternal life, and conscious of it, ’ j represented as 
 using this intelligence and consciousness, in his dealings 
 with poor ignorant souls — alas ! how unconscious of 
 everything really spiritual or divine. 
 
 This was precisely what our blessed Lord Himself 
 did ; He, the conscious One, knowing Grod's love, and 
 holiness, and justice, and mercy, applied Himself to men, 
 all unconscious of them in any real practical sense, and 
 drew them to Himself. This was what the apostle did. 
 Knowing therefore the terrors of the Lord, we persuade 
 men this is what every believer is to do ; he is to 
 bring his knowledge of the Lord to bear upon the igno- 
 rant and deluded world ; he must say, We speak that 
 we do know." We also believe, and therefore speak 
 2 Cor. iv. 13. 
 
 Have you, dear reader, the conscious element in you ; 
 do you know the Lord vitally yourself ? If so, that very 
 consciousness is a talent ; it must not be allowed to lie 
 
 “Olshausen on tho Gospels.’’ Yol L, p. 2G2. 
 
THE WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 199 
 
 idle ; even if you have no actual gifts, that one of 
 spiritual intelligence is enough ; with no more than this 
 many a believer has won souls to Chiist. 
 
 But what is to be the scene of our operations for 
 Christ ? The fishers are to fish in the sea ; they are to 
 launch out into the deep. The ever shifting world, 
 troubled and restless, is to supply the fish for the gospel 
 net. Now there is much in the world to daunt timid 
 disciples of Christ ; they shrink from its turmoil, from 
 the storms which they must encounter, and from such a 
 complete going out of self as is involved in a launching 
 out into the deep. Many a one will not venture much 
 for Christ ; the very timid Christian will throw in a hook 
 and line from the shore, or even venture out into some 
 little bay or creek, which washes almost his own door, 
 but he will not venture out into the deep. Well ! we 
 would just observe in passing, that some of the best fish 
 are caught in deep water ; however, far be it from us to 
 think lightly of every one that skirts the shore. No 
 doubt there are shore fish as well as deep-water fish, and 
 happy is he who fishes at all, and catches anything ; we 
 are glad if any of our readers have thus commenced, 
 even as it were just at their own door ; we pray that in 
 God's good time they may be encouraged to go forth 
 into the deep. For the encouragement of such, let us 
 give the experience of a city missionary in one of the 
 worst parts of London. 
 
 ^^My experience in mission work is, that its dis- 
 couragements gradually lessen, while on the other hand 
 its encouragements continually increase. At first a 
 missionary enters on his work with fear — fear, lest the 
 important truths whicli he wishes to make known should 
 
200 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SEKVICE. 
 
 be mocked at^ and their value lost upon persons engrossed 
 in the every-day duties of life. Probably this is the 
 feeling which induces so many private Christians to seek 
 any outlet for their zeal, rather than that of speaking 
 to neighbors about their souls. Those fears, however, 
 soon wear away, especially if a genuine sympathy 
 for others in their wants and woes is possessed. During 
 the past year my access to the people has greatly in- 
 creased. I will mention a few of its causes. I have 
 before me a row of sixteen cottages, to only one of which 
 I could gain an entrance on my first round. At my last 
 round, I could make known the gospel at the fireside of 
 each. I believe this has arisen simply from the fre- 
 quency with which I have passed these houses, in going 
 to other j)arts of the district. Certain it is, that this 
 kind of familiarity, instead of breeding contempt, as the 
 copy has it, rather tends to slacken the cords of enmity 
 with which the hearts of the unconverted are bound. 
 A second source of access, is a gradual good opinion of 
 the missionary among the i^eople, as his labors are 
 known, which are told from one to another. I have 
 sometimes been refused admittance at one visit, when on 
 a second visit, some one else being present of those I 
 visit, that person has said such a word in my favor, as 
 to prevent my being again sent away. And then on a 
 third visit, affliction often softens down the j)eople. ^Lot 
 of beggars going about !' said one woman of us ; but 
 when the frost set in, and she was in the greatest of 
 distress, she was altogether on another key. But, above 
 all, the report throughout a district of real good effected 
 to some of the peo23le, has a wonderful infiuence in help- 
 ing the missionary with others whom he visits.'' 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 201 
 
 They who venture little for Jesus, generally get little; 
 
 Be it unto thee according to thy faith/' is said many 
 a time now, even as it was in the days of Christ. 
 
 The history of the church of God is full of instances 
 of the courage of His servants in launching out into the 
 deep — depths of ignorance, of persecution, of resistance, 
 of vice, and such like, and of their having met with 
 great success in doing so. Let us consider a few ex- 
 amples of this launching forth, and perhaps they will 
 have the blessed effect, of at least encouraging our 
 timid ones, to venture a little farther than they do. 
 Our first example shall be rather a formidable one, but 
 all the more encouraging on that account. 
 
 During the revolutionary troubles of the year 1848, 
 a band of robbers had established themselves in the 
 great manufacturing town of Lyons, in the south of 
 France. They were rough fellows, with faces that 
 looked fit only for the gallows, and hearts hard as the 
 street paving of the town. To judge from their appear- 
 ance, they would think no more of taking away a man's 
 life than of blowing out a rushlight. But nothing pros- 
 pers in this world without some sort of government, 
 and these robbers knew it ; so they chose one of their 
 number for a captain, and in this case it was the one 
 most accomplished in all kinds of robbery and murder. 
 And then they raised their hands to heaven and swore, 
 that none of them would ever leave or betray the band, 
 and if any should nevertheless break the oath, the rest 
 would pursue and kill him. And now they went forth 
 to plunder and murder, and all the people of the neigh- 
 borhood, who besides their heads had temporal goods 
 to lose, were full of terror and dismay. 
 
202 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 At this time there was assembled in Lyons another 
 band^ which^ like these robbers in the forest, sent out 
 their messengers in every direction, and so hunted after 
 all sorts of people. And where these messengers ap- 
 peared, many a one has trembled. It is true they were 
 not armed like the robbers with pistols, and such mur- 
 derous weapons, but out of their wallets peeped large 
 and small books ; and when the messengers read out 
 of them, it was to many a listener as if a two-edged 
 sword pierced through his soul. For in the books 
 was much written about the Holy Grod, Avho brings 
 sinners before His tribunal, and about the Saviour 
 Jesus Christ, who so mercifully takes upon Himself 
 the sins of those who heartily repent and seek for- 
 giveness from Him. 
 
 One of the missionaries of this society resolved one 
 day to go into the forest to the robbers ; not, indeed, 
 that he might become one of them, but, with the help 
 of God, to put an end to their unrighteous profession. 
 It was truly a dangerous thing to do, and I really begin 
 to tremble when I think how the lawless fellows in the 
 forest yonder will handle the poor man. He might well 
 think about it too ; but God had given him a brave 
 heart, so that he didn't trouble himself about it, further 
 than to say to himself that at most they could only 
 destroy his body, but were not able to kill his soul. 
 ^If I fall,' he thought, ^I shall go straight to heaven, 
 and there it is far better than in this poor world, espe- 
 cially in France. And would not my life be amply 
 repaid if by the word of God, the soul of one of these 
 robbers should be saved So he filled his wallet with 
 Bibles, and stepped away bravely into the wood. Soon 
 
THE ‘-I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 203 
 
 he was lost in the thicket, and, after a few miles, he 
 came upon the outposts of the camp. 
 
 ^ Who goes there ?’ cried a rough voice, which 
 seemed to pierce our Bible distributor through bone 
 and marrow. Soon several horrible-looking forms came 
 out of the thicket, surrounded the adventurous in- 
 truder, and scrutinized him with curious looks. He 
 had, meanwhile, recovered courage to meet their wild 
 scornful faces. 
 
 ^ ^ What brings you here, fellow cried the robbers. 
 
 ^ I come," replied he, with a firm voice, ^ to bring 
 you the word of Grod, and to warn you from the path 
 of ruin, before the judgment of God breaks over you." 
 
 wild, fiendish laugh interrupted the address. 
 ^ Ha ! ha ! ha !" cried the comrades, ^ this is a capital 
 fellow, and a good roast for our captain ! There you can 
 finish your sermon. It"s just what he likes, and he "11 
 reward you for it. Pack up your books : over yonder 
 you "11 do more business ! March ! On with you !" 
 
 With these words they thrust him forward, and 
 brought him to their captain. At the sight of such a 
 body of rufiSans, playing with their muskets as if they 
 were toy guns, the stoutest heart might have quailed ; 
 but our man of God stood calm. 
 
 ‘ What do you want, fellow asked the captain, 
 haughtily. 
 
 H come to bring you the word of God,’ replied the 
 missionary, firmly. 
 
 ^ Do you know who we are ? Do you know us 
 he asked again. 
 
 ^ Certainl)^, I know you," was the answer. Won 
 are the wickedest of the wicked, the most daring of 
 
204 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 sinners. You are the terror of the neighborhood ; but 
 the anger of God will burst over you, and destroy you 
 before you think it. He is a righteous God, and will 
 not leave the wicked unpunished." 
 
 ^^As before, the fearless speaker was now interrupted 
 by a burst of laughter. A flood of sneers and curses 
 was poured on him, but he did not allow himself to be 
 disturbed, and only raised his voice the louder. 
 
 ^^^Eepent V he cried, ^even for you there is mercy 
 and forgiveness : even for you is the Saviour, the Son 
 of God, come, if you repent, and be converted. Now is 
 the time. His love has sent me here ; the arms of His 
 love are opened to you." The wild laughter was stilled, 
 but instead of it a low murmur was heard. The wild 
 eyes glared with rage ; involuntarily they pointed their 
 muskets at the daring missionary ; but a glance from 
 the captain, and he Avould have paid for his boldness 
 with his life. But the eye of God watched over him, 
 and his courage was undisturbed. 
 
 ^ Do you know," shouted the captain, ^ that your 
 life is in our hands ?' 
 
 Without God"s permission you can not touch a 
 hair of my head," replied the missionary, raising his 
 warning and exhorting voice still louder, and distribut- 
 ing his Bibles right and left. By degrees the murmur 
 was hushed. The robbers began even to show respect to 
 the courageous man. Many a heart might have trembled 
 at that moment, but the devil had bound their chains 
 too firmly. They had taken that fearful oath, never 
 to leave the band. It could be broken only by death. 
 Presently the captain exclaimed, ^ take the man away, 
 but do him no harm !" He was obeyed, and with oaths 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 205 
 
 and curses^ they led him out of the wood; and he, praising 
 God in his heart, made the best of his way back to Lyons. 
 
 Now many may think the Bible distributor might 
 have spared himself his troublesome journey, for that 
 robbers will be robbers still. Have patience. The word 
 of God never returns empty, but will accomplish what- 
 ever He pleases. But to proceed. 
 
 The captain had himself received a New Testament, 
 and, as he was one day strolling through the wood he 
 took the book out of his pocket and read it, to pass 
 away the time. He was astonished at what he saw 
 there, and he read on and on. He had never heard 
 such things before. His conscience Avas awakened, and 
 the life he had led appeared darker and darker to his 
 mind. He became uneasy. Every day he separated 
 from his comrades, and wandered about the Avood. To 
 them such conduct appeared someAvhat suspicious, and 
 they began to Avhisper among themselves. But he be- 
 came every day more alive to the misery of his sins; the 
 judgment of God Avas to him fearful, and the love of 
 Christ burned in his hard heart : he could no lono:er 
 belong to the band. But how could he leave it.^^ Should 
 he run away.^ Noav Ave should not think it Avrong, but 
 our captain Avould not break his oath, even Avith rob- 
 bers. For a long time he struggled thus Avith himself; 
 but at last he assembled the band. They hastened to- 
 gether, in the hope that he Avas going to lead them out 
 again on some profitable expedition. But they were 
 not a little astonished AAdien the captain addressed them 
 as follows : — • 
 
 ^ Comrades !' he cried, ^hitherto I have been your 
 leader : henceforth I am so no more. This book here 
 
206 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF SERVICE. 
 
 has shown me that we are on the way to ruin. A fear- 
 ful oath hound me to you ; hut my resolution is taken. 
 I am in your hands. If you Avish to kill me, you can 
 do it ; hut never again can I bring myself to lead the 
 cursed life of a rohher !’ 
 
 In mute astonishment the comrades listened to 
 their leader. A murmur of rage ran through the com- 
 pany, hut soon anger gave jilace to sympathy. After 
 long consultation, they came to the determination of 
 letting the captain go quietly away. Once more he 
 raised his warning voice to his old companions, re- 
 minding them of the wrath of God, whose command- 
 ments they had broken, and of the great love of the 
 Eedeemer, if they repented, and urged them earnestly 
 to quit with him their life of sin. Soon afterwards the 
 hand broke up. Many of its members followed their 
 captain, and were converted ; and the society which first 
 sent their missionary into the Avood has received several 
 of them into its office, as companions of its labors.'' 
 
 But Ave can find examples amongst ourselves. Of the 
 courage and tact necessary for the missionary's Avoik, as 
 Avell as of its influence under the most unlikely circum- 
 stances, the night preceding the execution of Mullins 
 may he taken as an example. The public-houses Avere 
 then thronged till the hour of closing, Avhen the inmates 
 Avere off in a body to aAvait all night in the open air the 
 solemn scene of the morning. Into a public-house that 
 evening a missionary entered. As he crossed the bar to 
 enter an inner room, the landlord cautioned him not to 
 go in, as it Avas unsafe. But, in language characteristic 
 
 * From the Berlin “ Neueste Nachrichten aus dem Reiche Gottes,” 
 December, 1850. 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 207 
 
 of a city missionary^ the missionary writes : — ^ On hear- 
 ing thisj in I went.' In the room he found about sixty 
 men and youths, all their hair dressed in the favorite 
 style with that class, known as ^ the Newgate cut,' and 
 a number of them smoking short pipes. His entering 
 among them caused great excitement, and the only 
 words which he could hear for some time were such as 
 these, ^ Bonnet him,' ^ Kick him out,' and the like, 
 until one man, gifted with a louder voice than the 
 others, shouted to the potman, ^ Here, bring a quartern 
 of Old Tom, and two outs for me and this chap, to 
 drink Mullins's health with.' These words were no 
 sooner spoken than the rest rushed to the door to cut 
 off the missionary's retreat. The missionary, seeing his 
 position, and that they desired to frighten him, ad- 
 vanced quickly to the middle of the room, and, raising 
 his hand to heaven, exclaimed, ^ If a thousand savages 
 were here, I 'd have my say out, and do you think I 'm 
 to be cowed by fifty or sixty Englishmen ? Why, I have 
 come to tell you of the last dying speech of a friend Avho 
 was executed.' This last observation ^vas so appropriate 
 to the state of their minds, that it caused silence, which 
 was generally called for by them in words of their own 
 vocabulary, such as ^ Shut up,' ^ Muzzle,' ^ Hold your 
 mug.' Then the missionary began to tell of the two 
 condemned to death, and of the thousands who poured 
 out of the city to see the well known thieves and mur- 
 derers die. Then he proceeded to tell of One greater 
 than these, who was suspended between them, while in- 
 creasing throngs ^ came together to that sight.' He 
 was permitted to describe the whole scene, and while he 
 told them of the darkened heavens, and the trembling 
 
208 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 earth, their silence became intense. On his repeating 
 to them the last words of the sufferer, ^ It is finished/ 
 their pipes all went on the table, and they gazed in 
 wonder at the tale of the Saviour's finished work, which 
 was described by the missionary with much fullness. 
 He then called on them, in His name, to repent. No 
 resistance was made, when at length he proceeded to 
 leave ; but several of them rose in respect to him as he 
 did so, and two followed him out. One of these was 
 a ticket-of-leave man, and both he and his companion 
 promised the missionary, in the strength of prayer, to 
 separate entirely from their old companions.'' 
 
 Another missionary in humble life (Koger Miller), 
 writes : — • 
 
 In Court there were three men who were the 
 
 terror of the place. Having repeatedly heard of their 
 determined violence against me, and of their saying that 
 they would kick me out of their house if I should go 
 there when they were at home — a threat which all the 
 neighbors believed they would accomplish — I at once 
 resolved to call upon them ; and as they were only at 
 home on Sundays, I arranged to visit their families on 
 one of these days. I accordingly did so. The neigh- 
 bors, on seeing me enter the first house, were alarmed, 
 and held themselves in readiness to interfere, in the 
 event of violence. The family was at breakfast ; I 
 apologized. The man bid me make no apologies, as he 
 had heard of me, and knew that my intention was good. 
 I had a long talk with him, and the result was that he 
 assured me that he should be glad to see me at any 
 time, and he thought he should begin to go to some 
 place of worship." 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF SERVICE. 
 
 209 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. of — — • Place^ were extremely 
 poor and ignorant, and were in their persons, house, and 
 children, uncommonly filthy. When I first called upon 
 them, and told them the business and purpose of my 
 visit, Mr. B., vociferating a stunning oath, bid me be- 
 gone, and never again trouble him with any of that ^ ere 
 nonsense.' I left a tract, and said, ^ I will call again at 
 some future day.' ^ Yes, you do,' replied he, ^ and I will 
 soon kick you out — that 's all !' I however called. He 
 was not at home himself, but I met with his wife, and 
 found her but little better than he. Her children, I saw, 
 were in her way, and occasioned her much vexation ; so 
 I invited her to send them to the infant school, repre- 
 senting to her the advantage that would arise out of this, 
 as she would herself get rid of them during the day, and 
 they would learn to read. I offered, if she would wash 
 their hands and faces, to take them with me immediately. 
 I accordingly did take them. This care for her children 
 pleased her much. I continued to visit them, and after 
 some months again met with Mr. B. at home. In the 
 meantime, his children had received considerable instruc- 
 tion, and amongst other things had learned* to sing a 
 number of pretty little hymns, and he himself had been 
 called to task but a few days before, for commencing 
 dinner without saying grace ; so instead of ^ hiching out' 
 his friend, as he had threatened, he received him most 
 respectfully. ^ I don't know how it is,' said he, ^ but 
 the children seem to learn a great deal at your school ; I 
 should like to come and see them.' The man was quite 
 subdued and won. He began to attend a place of wor- 
 ship himself, became increasingly regular in doing so, 
 and ended, an anxious inquirer for the best of things." 
 
210 
 
 THE '• I WILL ” OF SERVICE. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. ^ of 25 , Street^ were a some- 
 
 what aged couple. They had long lived together^ stran- 
 gers to themselves and to God ; rarely if ever attending 
 a place of worship^ and entertaining the most perfect 
 contempt for religion. At first when I called, they 
 would not hear any thing I had to say, hut I continued 
 my visits. They gradually became more and more free 
 and friendly, and at length I was permitted to read and 
 pray with them. Their minds were open to receive my 
 instructions and counsels, and they became hopefully 
 converted to God. The case of this poor man and his 
 wife, at my last visit, appeared truly affecting. Both 
 wept like children, and said with great feeling, ‘ Oh, sir, 
 if you had not come to us as you did, we should still 
 have been living in our sins, and we have often wondered 
 that you should have troubled yourself to come a second 
 time to see us, as we used you so bad when you first called 
 on us. We never go to bed now, nor get up, without 
 j^raying for you, as we know that others serve you as we 
 did when you came to us at first." ^ But, oh ! what 
 mercy," exclaimed the old man, ^ has the Lord bestowed 
 on us, to think that He should send His Son to die for 
 a poor old sinner such as I am." The j^oor old man was 
 soon after visited with an attack of paralysis, which 
 occasioned his confinement to his room. His wife be- 
 came a member of the Wesleyan Society in Broadwell."" 
 
 The following interesting tradition of the early church 
 will also, doubtless, interest the reader : — 
 
 Clemens Alexandrinus in his book, entitled, What 
 rich man can be saved ?') narrates the following : — 
 Listen to a story, or rather to a genuine tradition of 
 the apostle John, which has been faithfully treasured in 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 211 
 
 memory. On his return from Patmos to Ephesus, he 
 visited the neighboring regions, to ordain bishops and 
 organize churches. While he was engaged in exhorting 
 and comforting the brethren in a city near Ephesus, 
 whose name is given by some, he noticed a handsome, 
 spirited young man, toward whom he felt himself drawn 
 so powerfully, that he turned to the bishop of the con- 
 gregation with the words, ^ I commit him to you, before 
 Christ and the congregation, who are witnesses of ray 
 heart-felt earnestness.' The bishop received the young 
 man, promised to do all in his power, and John, at part- 
 ing, repeated the same charge. The elder took the youth 
 home, educated and watched over him, and finally bap- 
 tized him. After he had given him this seal of the 
 Lord, however, he abated in his solicitude and watch- 
 fulness. The young man, too early freed from restraint, 
 fell into bad company. He was first led into lavish 
 habits, and finally drawn on to rob travellers by night. 
 Like a spirited steed that springs from the path, and 
 rushes madly over a precipice, so did his vehement na- 
 ture hurry him to the abyss of destruction. He re- 
 nounced all hope in the grace of God ; and, as he con- 
 sidered himself involved in the same destiny with his 
 companions, was ready to commit some startling crime. 
 He associated them with himself, organized a band of 
 robbers, put himself at their head, and surpassed them 
 all in cruelty and violence. Some time after, John's 
 duties again called him to that city ; when he had 
 attended to all the other matters, he said to the bishop : 
 ^ Well, bishop, restore the pledge which the Saviour and 
 I entrusted to thee, in the presence of the congregation !' 
 The bishop at first was alarmed, supposing that John 
 
212 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 was speaking of money ; and charging him witli embez- 
 zlement. But when John continued, ‘ I demand again 
 that young man^ and the soul of my brother/ the old 
 man sighed heavily, and with tears replied, ^ He is dead 
 ^ Dead ?' said the disciple of the Lord, ^ in what way did 
 he die ?’ ^ He is dead to Grod/ responded the old man ; 
 
 ^ he became godless, and finally a robber. He is no 
 longer in the church, but, with his fellows, holds the fast- 
 nesses of the mountain.^ The apostle, when he heard 
 this, with a loud cry, rent his clothing and smote his 
 head, and exclaimed, ^ To what keeper have I com- 
 mitted my brother's soul !' He takes a horse and a 
 guide, and hastens to the spot where the band of robbers 
 was to be found. He is seized by their out-guard ; he 
 makes no attempt to escape, but cries out, ^ I have come 
 for this very purpose ; take me to your captain.' Their 
 captain, completely armed, is waiting for them to bring 
 him ; but recognizing J ohn as he approached, fiees, from 
 a sense of shame. John, nevertheless, forgetting his age, 
 liastens after him with all speed ; crying, ^ Why, my 
 child, do you fiee from me — from me — your father, an 
 unarmed old man ? have compassion on me, my child ; 
 do not be afraid. You yet have a hope of life. I will 
 yet give account to Christ for you. If needs be, I will 
 gladly die for you, as Christ died for us ; I will lay 
 down my life for you. Stop ! Believe Christ has sent 
 me !' Hearing these words, he first stands still, and 
 casts his eyes upon the ground. He next throws away 
 his arms ; and begins to tremble and weep bitterly. 
 When the old man approaches, he clasps his knees, and 
 with the most vehement agony, pleads for forgiveness ; 
 baptizing himself anew, as it were, with his own tears ; 
 
THE ‘a WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 213 
 
 all this time^ however^ he conceals his right hand, but 
 the apostle pledging himself^ with an appeal to God for 
 the truths that he had obtained forgiveness from the 
 Saviour for him^ implores him, even on his knees, and 
 the hand he had held back, he kisses, as if it were 
 cleansed again by his penitence. He finally led him 
 back to the church ; here, he pleaded with him ear- 
 nestly, strove with him in fasting, urged him with moni- 
 tions, until he was able to restore him to the church, 
 an example of sincere repentance and genuine regener- 
 ation.'' 
 
 We are afraid often to launch out into what might 
 be called the depths of hopelessness, but God has His 
 own ways of bringing even the most unlikely fish to 
 our gospel net. 
 
 will now," says a city missionary, give a few 
 illustrations from the district, and the first instance Avill 
 show that effects may be produced, even among the most 
 hopeless kind of persons. Among the most uncouth 
 
 j)ersons I ever met with was a man named , and 
 
 his wife. Years passed away before any perceptible 
 progress was made, even in the way of access. It 
 required more than ordinary means to subdue this 
 man. It pleased God, therefore, to afflict him very 
 much. Four times did he meet with accidents by the 
 breaking of his limbs, till at length he was disqualified 
 for labor altogether. This gave me more opportunities 
 of meeting with him, and, in the change of circumstances 
 that followed, I had occasion to use my infiuence on his 
 behalf in temporal things. These combined infiuences 
 operated on him; he began to show more interest in 
 spiritual things, and in the reading of the tracts. He 
 
214 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 was much influenced with ^ the Bar of Iron/ and he 
 would not restsatisfled till I had procured him the second 
 part, which he also read with much interest. Ultimately 
 he was induced to attend church, and has done so for 
 some time, although his crij^ifled state renders it very 
 difficult for him to walk ; and he said one day, while I 
 was visiting him, ^ The more I goes the more I likes it." 
 No persons manifested more sympathy on my leaving 
 the district than these persons. He missed me from 
 calling, and one day I met him in the street, and he 
 asked the cause. I told him it was through illness, and 
 I saw the tears in his eyes ; but when I added it was 
 probable I should leave, his countenance quite changed, 
 and for a few minutes he could not speak. At length, 
 with quivering lips, he said, ^ I am so sorry, I am so 
 sorry !" It moved my heart to see this, for it was what 
 I never expected to see. They both pressed me to give 
 them a j)arting visit, which I did. They expressed much 
 sympathy and regret, and showed it by many wishes for 
 my future welfare. I do not say this man is converted, 
 but I give the facts of the change in him as indicating 
 hope, and as a source of encouragement to faithful per- 
 severance."" 
 
 It may be that we shall not succeed in getting out of 
 such depths a sufficiently large draught to break our 
 nets, but even if we get one for Christ — one out of such 
 an unlikely j)lace — one from the midst of such sin, how 
 great the triumph. And we may get one ; though it 
 be but one — yet is it one soul. 
 
 When the missionary Weitbrecht was at the court of 
 the Eajah of Burdwan, the Eev. Krishna Mohun Baner- 
 jea visited that place, and, at the earnest request of the 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 215 
 
 Rajah^ Mr. W. took him to call on him. He could not 
 believe, without ocular demonstration, that one of the 
 highest class of Brahmins had adopted another religion, 
 and it led to a great deal of interesting discussion on 
 the subject with him and his family, which reminded 
 the missionary of a remark made by the sainted Martyn, 
 that, if ever he lived to see a native Bengali Brahmin 
 converted to God, he would see the nearest approach 
 he had yet witnessed to the resurrection of the dead.’’ 
 
 Thanks be to God,'' says Wei tbrecht, ^Hhe day has 
 arrived when such conversions are no longer rare.'’ 
 
 Thus from most unpromising depths were some fish 
 drawn ; our own waters, unpromising though they also 
 be, yield their increase. 
 
 But let us see such success at home : — 
 
 A city missionary, meeting with a man, a Roman 
 Catholic, the following conversation took place : — 
 ^ Good morning ; I hope you are well !' ^ I am very well 
 in body, but not very happy in mind.' ^ What is the 
 matter with you ^ I have an old friend of mine, who 
 has been after going to mass Avith me for many a long 
 year, both in Ireland and in this country, and, sure 
 enough, I would never be thinking as how he would be 
 after becoming a child of the devil.' ^ What has he been 
 doing ? Committing murder or theft ?’ ^ No, but some- 
 thing worse than all that, for, sure, mercy would then 
 be in store for him. But some time since I missed him 
 (God help me), and went to his house, and opened the 
 door before he was after hearing me, and he put a book 
 under his bed. I asked him what it Avas, and, bad luck 
 to him, Avithout fearing the priest at all, he Avas after 
 saying to me, Oh, indeed, and it is the book of books. 
 
216 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 and fool that I have been not to read it before.' And 
 what do you think ? — he had the impudence to recom- 
 mend it to me, — and, sure, I don't want the curses of 
 the church.' I asked him if he intended to tell the 
 priest ? ^ Indeed I do,' was his reply ; ^ for I am bound 
 
 to do so when I go to confession.' ^ Then it is true that 
 you are not allowed to read the Bible ?' ^ Indeed it is, 
 
 for the Bible is not true ; and if it is, it is not for the 
 like of us to be after reading what the priest alone can 
 understand. The Lord have mercy upon me for not 
 saying his Holiness the Pope first ;' and here the poor 
 creature crossed himself, and left me. 
 
 An Irishwoman, who opposed me most strenuously, 
 said, ^ I am quite certain we should and ought to be as 
 readily forgiven for the worst of crimes as for harboring 
 heretics. We are cautioned against receiving your 
 tracts on pain of excommunication, and, sure, if I knew 
 any one Roman Catholic who receives those tracts 
 (cursing them), I would go direct to the priest and lay 
 information. The Lord be merciful to us, you fellows 
 are the plague of our lives. You are worse than the 
 parsons, for the like of you get into the people's houses, 
 and into their good graces. Bad luck to you, you make 
 the people uncomfortable and uneasy. Get along with 
 you ; I have no common patience with you. Your day 
 
 will soon come. I heard Father say so the 
 
 other night.' Here the old woman left me, having 
 worked herself up into a perfect frenzy. 
 
 ^ So you think we are not right, and that the blessed 
 Virgin has nothing to do with our salvation ? I think a 
 precious sight more of the Mother than of the Son, for, 
 sure. He never could have been born but for her. In 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 217 
 
 heaven she asks Him for us, and no prayer can reach 
 Him hut through her ; and when we go to purgatory it 
 will he a consolation to know that we have so many 
 good priests begging the Mother to heg the Son soon to 
 purify us.' I now attempted to refer them to the Word 
 of Grod, hut was assailed hy the other as follows : — 
 ^ Sure, is it the Bihle you refer to — that awful hook of 
 yours ? I went into St. Saviour's Church the other day 
 (that church which you (with an oath) Protestants roh- 
 hed us of), on purpose to see Bishop Bonner's chair and 
 his judgment-seat, and I sent up some Paternosters and 
 Ava Marias, that another Bishop Bonner might he 
 raised up to get rid of that hook of yours, and get rid 
 of every heretic out of the land. We are told hy 
 
 Father to pray, and we do — yes, all of us pray 
 
 that may soon come to pass.' 
 
 Well, what have you there ? I suppose The Irish 
 Schoolmaster" (alluding to the tract hearing that title). 
 Murphy read it the other evening, and, sure, we are all 
 mad against him. Ought not the stone thrown at him 
 and the other at his wife to have settled their business ? 
 hut the devil favors them that's wrong, and then makes 
 them prosper.' ^ But what did he wrong ?' ^ Sure, and 
 he read the Scriptures, contrary to the rules of the 
 Church and orders of the priest.' ^ But we are com- 
 manded hy Christ to search the Scriptures.' ^Away 
 with you, you lying heretic ; it is not for the like of us, 
 hut the priest only.' And here he left me ; his passion 
 had overcome him. A person to whom I had given the 
 tract had lent it to him." 
 
 But even from such apparently unproductive depths 
 as these, something was to he had. 
 
 10 
 
218 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 This is a most remarkable instance of the power of 
 
 truth when accompanied by the Spirit of Grod. Mr. ^ 
 
 an Irishman^ living at No. — ^ Place. I found him 
 
 deplorably ignorant, and I had difficulty in making him 
 understand the most simple language. All he could do 
 was to repeat a few Ava Marias. He had never had a 
 copy of the Word of God, but after a few visits he 
 consented to accept one, and he had it read to him, and 
 the Spirit of the Lord applied its truths to his heart, and 
 the most pleasing of all inquiries was heard, ^ What 
 must I do to be saved He became a Christian, left 
 the Eomish Church, and attended where he could hear 
 Christ and Him crucified preach. Affliction overtook 
 him, and, being in adverse circumstances, he was 
 obliged to go to the workhouse. He recovered, but 
 kept in the house. He was permitted to have a holiday. 
 I called to see him, and was rejoiced to find him in such 
 a happy frame of mind. He said, ^ I am happy. Oh, 
 what a treasure Christ is. Strange that I should have 
 been ignorant of Him for so many years, and what won- 
 derful love His must be to have mercy upon one who for 
 seventy years had no love for Him !' Are you happy in 
 the house ?' Wes, with one exception. There are so 
 many wicked characters, and their bad language grieves 
 my very soul ; however, I do what I can to show them 
 their error, but they say I am too quiet a man ; but, 
 2)oor things ! they don’t understand why I am different.^ 
 ^ God’s grace has done it.’ ^ Well, sir, I can’t do much 
 by argument, but I hope what few days I have to remain 
 on earth, to live to Christ. And do seek out those poor 
 creatures who are deluded like I was. I know the diffi- 
 culties you have to contend with, and the enmity there 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 219 
 
 is in the hearts of all Catholics against the Bible, and 
 the simple truths of the gospel. They are taught it. 
 I know I was. Well, here am I, a sinner plucked out 
 of their clutches, and out of the clutches of the devil, 
 thanks be to God and to you.' A few weeks elapsed, 
 the old man was taken suddenly ill, and soon expired. 
 His last words v/ere, ^ Unto Him that loved me and 
 washed me, &c., &c., be glory for ever and ever.' " 
 
 Oh ! that we all had that holy venturesomeness for 
 Christ, a spirit within us ever thrusting us forth into the 
 deeps ; thence should we draw some souls at least for 
 Christ ; thence should we win great honor and profit for 
 ourselves ; for that Avhich we catch for Christ, we catch 
 also for ourselves ; Christ's glory is His people's gain. 
 
 Be encouraged, dear reader, by what you have already 
 perused of the work of the Lord in the depths ; perhaps 
 some once hardened creature's eyes, albeit long unused 
 to tears, are destined to fill and overflow with afiection 
 to you; perhaps some now tightly compressed lips are 
 destined to quiver, when you announce that your work 
 is done, and that you are coming to visit the garret, or the 
 cottage, no more again. Oh ! these are but little things 
 compared with pleasing J esus, and winning fresh glory 
 for Him, and rescuing souls from eternal woe ; but still 
 they touch the sensibilities of the heart, and surely the 
 vibrating chords sound forth, Launch out into the deep" 
 — fear not the storms — the height above is greater than 
 the depths beneath ; Jesus Himself has been out upon 
 those very waters long before any of us ; there rises not 
 a billow over which he has not ridden ; there sinks not 
 a hollow into which He has not descended, Follow me, 
 and I will make you fishers of men !" 
 
220 
 
 THE ‘‘I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 Now let US consider 507 ne of the characteristics of this 
 fishing ivorh^ and this consideration will embrace in it 
 some of the requirements of the fishermen. One great 
 requirement is faith^ expectation^ yea, even belief that 
 we shail assuredly catch fish. Whatever may have been 
 our miscarriages and failures in ourselves, we also must 
 be ready with our ^^Nevertheless ^^Nevertheless at thy 
 word I will let down the net.'' The full belief that we 
 shall catch fish will often energize us to go forth, when 
 if we had not this inducement we might be inclined to 
 stay at home. If it be well known that the fish are 
 going, the fisherman will always turn out ; the fish of 
 the fishers of men are always going; they might be 
 almost said to be swimming even around our very doors. 
 Hope cheers the fisherman almost more than the man of 
 any other calling in life ; he is always hoping to get a 
 haul of fish ; if he be fishing with a net, he does not 
 know the moment when he will meet with a shoal of 
 fish ; if with a hook, he cannot tell how soon he will feel 
 the jerking of his line. There may be, there no doubt 
 is uncertainty, but that very uncertainty keeps the 
 fisherman's heart from despair. But the hope of the 
 fishers of fish, must turn into faith in the fishers of men, 
 we must make sure that we shall catch. And we must not 
 allow ourselves to doubt of success because we can see 
 nothing ; we may die in the very act of hauling the net ; 
 we may never see its living freight brought to the sur- 
 face of the water, but other hands will bring in the fish, 
 and God will not forget that we hauled the net. If they 
 Avho tarried by the stuff*, [1 Sam. xxx. 24,] had their 
 share of the spoil as well as they who went forth to the 
 battle ; and if while one soweth and another reapeth. 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 221 
 
 both sower and reaper rejoice together^ surely he who 
 hauled at the net shall not be forgotten^ because others 
 bring in the fish. It may be our part only to let down 
 the net ; or to give a long, strong pull, and die at the 
 rope, seeing nothing ; but when the fish are brought to 
 land, our share of the profit shall not be held back ; the 
 great master of this superhuman craft will apportion to 
 every man his reward, and accurately mark out the part 
 which he has had in bringing about the great result. 
 
 There is no doubt that discouragements will meet us 
 in our work ; these discouragements are in themselves 
 very provoking, and often arise from sources whence we 
 should never have looked for them ; but we must re- 
 member that the Great Fisher of men took experience 
 of them, and wrought through them, and He shall see 
 of the travail of His soul, and be satisfied ; and so 
 shall we. 
 
 The history of the Lord's servants is full of dis- 
 couragements, and thanks be to God, of their triumphs 
 also over them. Let us look at a few instances ; when we 
 see how others have been tried, we shall be the less down- 
 hearted and discouraged, if we be tried ourselves. 
 
 In one of his summer excursions, Eomaine was invited 
 to preach at Bootle, in Cumberland. On ascending the 
 pulpit stair, he found the door would not open. The 
 churchwarden observing him pull hard, but in vain, im- 
 mediately suspected that a blacksmith in the parish, 
 who was a great enemy to the gospel, had played them a 
 trick ; and quietly asking the clerk to sing a long psalm, 
 ran away to get pincers and hammer to open the pulpit 
 door. This was done, and Mr. Eomaine preached to the 
 great edification of the people. 
 
222 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 At St. Dunstan's, the rector refused the pulpit to 
 Mr. Eomaine, though appointed lecturer^ and seized it 
 while the prayers were being read^ in order to prevent 
 his occupying it. When the rector was compelled to 
 give him the pulpit, he appointed the lecture at an in- 
 conveniently late hour, and the church doors were shut 
 against the congregation till the last moment. The con- 
 sequence was, that hundreds, perhaps thousands, crowded 
 around the walls, and rushed in like a torrent the moment 
 the doors were opened. The Bishop of London (Dr. 
 Terrick), who had known Komaine at Oxford, and 
 honored his learning and abilities, happened to be 
 passing by Saint Dunstan's church before the service 
 began, and observing the immense crowds, and the 
 church doors shut, inquired the cause of such an 
 assembly. On being informed, he required the church- 
 wardens to see that the church doors should be opened 
 at a proper time, and the decture be permitted to com- 
 mence at an earlier hour. 
 
 Hannah More experienced like trouble, and on one 
 occasion, the assaults of the enemy were met in rather 
 a ridiculous way. 
 
 Of a certain place at which they were endeavoring to 
 establish a school, Hannah More writes : — Last Sun- 
 day, Drewitt preached an hour ; after he had finished, 
 the clerk got up and said, ^ The parish are desired to 
 meet next Friday, to consult on the best means of 
 opposing the ladies, who are coming to set up a school.' 
 Bold Drewitt, nothing dismayed, stood up instantly in 
 the pulpit, and said, ‘And on Sunday next, the parish 
 are desired to meet the ladies who intend opening the 
 school, at nine o'clock !' " 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 223 
 
 Scott, the commentator, was driven almost to despair : 
 
 had,'' said he, at this time many instructors as to my 
 style of preaching ; and some of the directors assumed 
 rather a high tone of authority, while others were 
 disposed to counsel me as the messengers of Ahah did 
 Micaiah. But I disposed of the dictating instruction 
 very shortly, saying, ^ Gentlemen, you possess authority 
 sufficient to change me /or another preacher, whenever 
 you please ; hut you have no power to change me into 
 another preacher. If you do not convince my under- 
 standing that I am in error, you cannot induce me to 
 alter my style of preaching.' The vexations, however, 
 which I continually experienced often overcame for a 
 period my patience and fortitude. On one occasion they 
 led me to say to my wife, ^ Whatever he the consequence, 
 I will quit this situation, for I shall never have any 
 peace in it.' But she promptly answered, ^ Take heed 
 what you do ; for if you lea\e your station in this spirit, 
 you will, perhaps, soon he with Jonah in the whale's 
 helly.' The check was seasonable, and procured my 
 acquiescence." 
 
 None ever met with such discouragements as our 
 blessed Lord Himself ; hut He toiled on, remembering 
 that He came to do His Father's will, whatever aspect 
 human affairs might wear. It is enough for the disciple 
 that he he as his Master," and it will sweeten our lot, if 
 we think that we are sharers of it with Him. 
 
 Another characteristic of this fishing work is labor. 
 It is laborious work. And this idea of labor is very 
 strongly brought before us in Matt. ix. 37, 38, where our 
 Lord says to His disciples, The harvest truly is plen- 
 
224 
 
 THE ‘a WILL- OF SERVICE. 
 
 teous^ but the laborers are few ; pray ye therefore the 
 Lord of the harvest, that He will send forth laborers 
 into His harvest."' The idea here, as also that in the 
 similitude of the fisherman, is one of toil. 
 
 Now this labor embraces going to look for the fish, 
 as well as hauling the net ; and, in truth, very little is 
 done without going to look for souls ; they seldom swim 
 into our net, rather do Grod's toiling servants draw the 
 net round them, and, perhaps, after a long and laborious 
 haul, bring them to the shore. It is needful to go out 
 into the highways and hedges and compel them to come 
 in. And God seems to bless all the aggressions of His 
 church upon the world ; aggression is often the best 
 defence ; if the gospel were more used for purposes of 
 assault upon the powers of evil in the world, it would be 
 assaulted far less than it is. Its supineness invites 
 attack. The Christian should be found with the sword 
 of the spirit, as well as with the shield of faith. 
 
 And very wonderfully does God seem to bless the 
 labors of fishers in the present day, who launch out 
 into the deep, and let down their nets for a draught. 
 There is many a one who was never bred to the sea, 
 but who can yet lend a hand to haul a net ; and a vast 
 blessing seems to rest upon the labors of many such in 
 the great spiritual fishing of the present day. There is 
 not a single new agency upon which the blessing of God 
 has not manifestly rested, and every one of these agen- 
 cies are aggressive. The Irish Church Mission" is 
 aggressive, and draws its broad net through the teeming 
 multitudes of our Eomish neighbors ; the Midnight 
 Mission" is aggressive, and warily pilots its craft through 
 shoals and quicksands ; the Bible Women" are aggres- 
 
THE WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 225 
 
 sors^ and navigate tlie intricate windings and turnings 
 of St. Griles", and other localities less known, but equally 
 in need; and so we might catalogue the names of aggres- 
 sors of this kind^ until we showed how goodly a fleet 
 had put to sea. All these are out after the fish, and 
 verily they have met with goodly shoals. 
 
 Let us take one instance of the success of this 
 launching out into the deep, we are indebted to the 
 
 London City Mission Magazine'" for it ; to no better 
 source could we go for instances of success in this class 
 of work : — 
 
 The opening of the Standard Theatre for a second 
 series of special religious services, has been a great 
 blessing to this neigfiborhood, doing much towards 
 turning this fountain of evil into a positive good ; and 
 being situate in the very centre of the district, I felt that 
 when the committee asked me again to undertake the 
 management of this important effort, it was my duty to 
 accept the invitation, although doing so involved a con- 
 siderable amount of mental and physical labor. 
 
 ^^How Grod smiled upon that effort is well known. 
 The people were glad to find a place of worship where 
 rags might find admission ; where all seats are free, and 
 the poorest made to feel he was heartily welcome. An 
 average attendance of 2,000 persons has been obtained, 
 of the very class who usually shun the house of prayer, 
 and pass the Sabbath hours in vain attempts to find 
 pleasure in worldly occupations. This large number of 
 persons always maintain the most perfect order and 
 decorum. The police in attendance have never been 
 required to interfere in any single instance ; the entire 
 work of keeping order, distributing copies of the hymns, 
 
 10 ^ 
 
226 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 etc., being carried out by a body of twenty working 
 men, selected from the congregation itself, under the 
 superintendence of myself and a brother missionary. 
 
 In the course of my daily visitations many of these 
 persons were met with, and many proofs given that 
 they had not heard in vain. 
 
 One man said, ^ I see'd you at the Standard on 
 Sunday. I say, didn't that parson walk into me pretty 
 tidy about swearing, eh?' I replied, ^ Well, I hope you 
 have left otf that sinful habit.' ^ Ah !' said he, ^ that 
 ain't so easy to do, guv'ner ; but I tell yer what, I don't 
 say one bad word now where I used to say ten.' 
 
 A poor woman said, ^ Oh ! sir, my home has been 
 a happy place on Sunday ; for my husband goes to 
 hear the preaching, and always comes home sober. I 
 go as often as I can, and we send our children to Sun- 
 day school.’ 
 
 The man now acts as one of the stewards at the 
 Theatre, and attends my meeting as often as his work 
 will permit. His wife has recently passed through a 
 severe illness, during which I visited her constantly, 
 and am encouraged to hope that both will ultimately 
 be led to decision. 
 
 Another person remarked, am so glad you have 
 got my son to come to the Theatre. He was brought 
 up in a Sunday school, and led to a place of worship ; 
 but he ^ went wild,' and made me very unhappy ; but 
 now, he is quite steady again, and I hope he will be a 
 comfort in my old age.' 
 
 Observing among the congregation two young 
 women, who came regularly every Sunday, I had some 
 conversation with them, and invited them to my meet- 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 227 
 
 ing. After coming a few times, they brought father, 
 mother, and a friend with them, who for many weeks 
 were attentive listeners to my instruction. They now 
 attend a regular place of worship on the Sunday, and 
 manifest an earnest, inquiring spirit. The father has 
 since been severely afflicted, and appears to be drawing 
 near to death. I find his mind directed to the true 
 source of consolation, and am led to believe that he is 
 truly converted to Grod. 
 
 Another interesting case is that of a lame beggar 
 man, who attended the special services, and also my 
 weekly meeting for a considerable time. He wore no 
 hat, coat, or waistcoat, but was always very clean, and 
 remarkably attentive to the service. He told me, that 
 he had often longed to enter places of worship, but was 
 not able to do so on account^of his wretched appear- 
 ance ; that he feared to come into the Theatre, until 
 one of the stewards invited him ; but he was so pleased 
 with what he heard, that he stayed in London all the 
 summer in order to attend the services. At his earnest 
 request I supplied him with a Bible, which he kept 
 carefully covered, and brought under his arm every Sun- 
 day ; and some friends who have met him in the street, 
 tell me that the Bible and tracts which I have given him 
 are always found in the bottom of the box which con- 
 tains his matches, laces, etc., for sale. The result of 
 their conversation with him confirms my own opinion, 
 that he has been brought to believe in the Lord J esus. 
 Having no settled home, he was compelled to endure 
 much persecution in the lodging-houses where he slept. 
 I suppose he has now gone ^ on tramp,' as I have not 
 seen him for some time. 
 
228 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 These are a few of the most prominent cases ; but, 
 in many other instances, it was found that persons who 
 neglected j)ublic worship for many years have acquired 
 the habit of going regularly to the Theatre services 
 every Sunday evening. 
 
 Kecently a prayer meeting has been held after the 
 sermon, to which from 600 to 800 persons have usually 
 remained, greatly interested in such an unusual and 
 solemn service. 
 
 A man, more than fifty years of age, came to me 
 at the close of the prayer meeting, a week or two since, 
 saying that he had never been at a prayer meeting 
 before in all his life ; and that what he had heard had 
 so impressed his mind, that he felt most anxious to 
 become a Christian. While he spoke, the tears ran 
 down his cheeks as he said, in a tremulous voice, ^ I 
 want to know how I can find Jesus.' He is now an 
 attendant at the district church where he resides, and 
 also comes to mj^ weekly meeting. I trust that, in the 
 prayerful use of these means of grace, the way of life 
 and peace will be made plain to him." 
 
 A goodly sight, we deem it, to see the houses of God 
 which are sown broadcast over the land ; we love to see 
 the church's stalwart tower with buttress and battle- 
 ment, as though garrison were kept for God in an 
 enemy's land ; we love to see the church's tapering 
 spire, shooting upwards to the skies, vanishing in airy 
 lightness to a glittering point, as though it would show 
 to man, how all of earth grows less and less the nearer 
 we approach to heaven ; but we have a sentiment above 
 that sentimentality ; the deep sentiment of the price- 
 lessness of an immortal soul ; and we believe that he 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 229 
 
 who offers the water of life to perishing men in a wooden 
 bowl^ or even as it were only in the hollow of his hand, 
 does better than he who says, ^ if thou wilt not drink 
 from a consecrated chalice, then perish in thy drought, 
 thou shalt not drink at all !' 
 
 In this fishing for men, we must expect to have 
 tossings to and fro, and it may be, even to soil our 
 hands — there are entries which are full narrow for 
 fashionable skirts. But is it reasonable that this, which 
 is labor, should be made an exception to all other labor 
 and is it reasonable that what men and women so cheer- 
 fully accord to the toil of pleasure, they should be loath 
 to accord to the toil of earnest work ? 
 
 Excuse me, madam, but what is all that mess ?” 
 
 I have taken to photography.'" 
 
 Dear me ! you have quite stained your fingers." 
 
 Oh ! one can't help that in photography." 
 
 And dear me ! what a disagreeable smell." 
 
 Oh ! 't is nothing when you 're used to it." 
 
 And what a troublesome process it seems to be." 
 
 Oh ! we can't do anything in this world without 
 trouble." 
 
 No, dear madam, no — and with not a whit more 
 trouble, mess, or smell, we could show you how to make 
 photographs (sun pictures) — the picture of the blessed 
 Jesus, taken and printed in light upon many a soul 
 that is now perishing for lack of knowledge." 
 
 And thus we might go on, through all the toil of 
 life's amusements and pursuits, and ask, alas ! only too 
 many, ^ Does not what you undergo in earth's toil and 
 pleasure, (if you be doing nothing for your Lord,) shame 
 you in the excuses which you make for declining all toil 
 
230 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 for heaven ?’ When Louis Marie, the Montreal colpor- 
 teur, was subjected to very ignominious treatment, he 
 never complained. One evening when he returned home, 
 he was asked v/hat kind of day he had had ? He re- 
 plied, with a face full of quiet Christian joy, that ^he 
 had had a very good day, having only been kicked 
 twice.' Alas ! how many are there who would not 
 consider it a good day, if they had to pass an unswept 
 crossing, or to whiff an unsavory smell. Many of our 
 fears are imaginary ; they are rderely bug-bears raised 
 up by the enchantments of the devil ; they vanish on a 
 near approach ; we may have a very little to endure 
 after all ; but at any rate, w^e do not know what we 
 can endure until we try. Take courage, dear reader ; 
 in a tossing boat you may catch much fish ; and all 
 the while you yourself be safe. 
 
 Do not be afraid of venturing upon a few visits for 
 the Lord. There w^as in a certain minister's district a 
 public house, in which neither the landlord nor his wife 
 were professors of religion. It was quite a resort for 
 the thoughtless and profane, and he dreaded visiting the 
 place, but conceiving it to be his duty, he nerved him- 
 self up to the task. He was respectfully received and 
 invited into the sitting room, where he found the tavern 
 keeper and his wife alone. He conversed with, or rather 
 talked to them about the interests of their immortal 
 souls, endeavored to show them the responsibility of their 
 station, and urged them to give immediate attention to 
 the things which belonged to their peace ; but could get 
 no other answer than a promise from the landlord that 
 he would think of it. He left the house with a heavy 
 heart, feeling that he had done them no good. 
 
THE I WILL ” OF SERVICE. 
 
 231 
 
 They soon left the place, and the minister knew 
 nothing of them until ten years after his visit, when 
 he received a very kind note from the man, informing 
 him that the conversation which seemed to be so little 
 regarded, had resulted in the conversion of both himself 
 and wife. 
 
 But in this work we must make up our minds to 
 exercise 'patience and perseverance. These are qualities 
 pre-eminently required in natural fishing, and in spiritual 
 fishing too. We shall accomplish very little by mere 
 dabbling as it were, with our hands over the side of the 
 boat.***' The fish may be near at hand, swimming all 
 about, and looking on with amazement at this strange 
 phenomenon, but they will not be so captivated by it as 
 to come near and be caught. He who would fish suc- 
 cessfully, must fish in earnest. Now see how patient 
 and persevering a fisher of souls was with one poor 
 creature, and how successful in the end, and may this 
 account cheer us on, when like fish come to our net. 
 
 ^^It was on the 18th of May, 1848, that I commenced 
 my labors in the district, and on that day I called at 
 No. — , — ^ — row, which was occupied by a family of the 
 
 name of , and was informed by a little girl that her 
 
 mother was not at home. But I soon became well 
 acquainted with this family. The husband held a situ- 
 
 We read that the Rev. Charles Simeon kept the picture of Henry 
 Martyn in his study. Move where he would through tlie apartment, it 
 seemed to keep its eyes upon him, and ever to say to him, Be earnest^ he 
 earnest; donH trifle^ donH trifle; and the good Simeon would gently bow 
 to the speaking picture, and with a smile reply, I will he in earnest; 
 I will, I will he in earnest ; I will not trifle, for souls are perishing, and 
 Jesus is to be glorified.” 
 
232 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF SERVICE. 
 
 ation under the Custom House, and the wife, who was 
 a stay and corset maker, I found was an inveterate 
 drunkard, and the dread of the neighborhood. The 
 babe at her breast (with the rest of the children) was 
 deserted night and day by her, while she would be out 
 getting drunk, and sometimes she would strip herself of 
 all but two articles of dress for drink. Then the husband 
 would shut her out, would not allow her to enter his 
 house, and would declare that she should never darken 
 his door any more. At these seasons she went about 
 without stockings or shoes, and being tall she had rather 
 a masculine appearance, with a loud sonorous voice. 
 She would be seen going through the streets, followed by 
 scores and sometimes hundreds of children, and, making 
 a stand here and there, she would make an oration. 
 Then the rude boys would be calling out ^ Polly Long 
 Stockings,' and behave in the most indecent manner. 
 In the neighborhood of Spitalfields, Whitechapel, Hox- 
 ton, and Kingsland, she was well known by the lowest 
 of characters, as well as where she lived, and with the 
 respectable, she was the dread of the neighborhood. 
 She would thieve, commit adultery, or do anything for 
 strong drink. The police stood aloof from her, and 
 dreaded to have anything to do with her ; but sometimes 
 they were compelled to lock her up and imprison her. 
 I often visited y warned^ exhorted and counselled her ^ and 
 she would express a desire to amend. Sometimes, when 
 her husband had turned her out, she came to me and 
 promised fairly, and I have gone and reasoned with him, 
 and asked him to try her once more. He was a bois- 
 terous man, and sometimes I have been fearful that he 
 would knock me down, when I have called on him re- 
 
THE '‘I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 233 
 
 specting his receiving her home again^ and he has said ; 
 ^ Ah^ the rascal ! don't mention her to me any more ; 
 she's a disgrace to me. If I leave a penny, to buy a 
 little milk for the baby, she'll spend it in the cursed 
 drink. I'll have no more of her !' Early in the morning 
 of the last day of 1848, having been shut out for a long 
 time, she called on me, and begged that I would go and 
 see her husband, and ask him to allow her to come home, 
 promising never any more to have anything to do with 
 intoxicating liquors. I told her that it was useless, for 
 he had said to me that while he had an arm to his body, 
 she should never live with him again. Three times that 
 day she called on me, making the same request. At last, 
 taking the delicate condition in which she was into con- 
 sideration, I said, ^ I will call on him once more, but I 
 expect that he will knock me down.’ I went, telling her 
 to be close to the house, so that if I did succeed, I 
 might introduce her. I got him to consent to her request, 
 
 and ste23ped out and called her in. I said, Mrs. , 
 
 this is your husband. Sit down and tell him what you 
 have said to me.' She did so. I read Ephesians v. 
 The husband and wife kneeled with me in prayer, and 
 the scene was most affecting. Eising from his knees, he 
 wiped the tears from his face, and said, May God grant 
 it !' But six weeks had not quite elapsed, when three 
 days after her confinement, she broke out again, and 
 became, if possible, worse than she had been before. 
 But, passing over nearly seven years of her life, (with 
 the exception of thirteen months, during which she kept 
 sober, and got a good business together in the stay and 
 corset making,) she went on in this dissipated career, 
 in and out of prison and the union, a walking pest to 
 
234 
 
 THE WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 society, and a corrupter of morals. In November, 1855, 
 she came to my house in a fearful plight, and asked me 
 
 to try her once more. I said, ^ W ell, Mrs. , my 
 
 Master received the outcast, and I must do the same." I 
 read and prayed with her, and promised to see what I 
 could do for her. The next day she called again, and 
 signed the pledge of total abstinence from all intoxicants. 
 I asked a poor man, eminent for piety, to take her in, as 
 he had a room to spare ; both he and his wife consented, 
 and I arranged to pay them Is. 6d. per week rent. 
 Friends to whom her case was known supplied her with 
 work, and I got her husband to pay her rent, unknown 
 to her. She now went on well. Sometimes she received 
 a friendly visit from her husband, and on the 24th of 
 December that year she was welcomed home again by 
 him. All proceeded well till May, 1856, when she 
 broke out once more. She had tasted the insidious 
 drink, and, in a few days, all her clothes, and everything 
 she could lay hand on, was sacrificed at the shrine of 
 Bacchus. Her husband had now become a witness to 
 her unfaithfulness to him, and she was not allowed to 
 enter under his roof. A gentleman who lived near them, 
 and was continually being annoyed by her brawling, 
 being a guardian of Hackney Union, got her admitted 
 into that institution. As she had forfeited all claim on 
 her husband, she was passed to her native parish, at 
 Doncaster. She remained in that ^ union" but a short 
 period, and, at leaving it, she went to Liverpool to reside 
 with a relative. While there she sent me a letter, and 
 entreated me to watch over her children, and to tell them 
 that she still had a mother"s love. They had removed off 
 my district to Cambridge Heath ; and I went, in com- 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 235 
 
 pliance with her request^ and saw her children, but not 
 one of them seemed to have the least regard for her. I 
 heard no more of her till the autumn of 1858, when she 
 had managed to walk from Manchester to Homerton, 
 dressed in a short dark skirt, a man's jacket, a bonnet, 
 and a pair of Yorkshire wooden clogs. When she started 
 from Manchester she was penniless, and she commenced 
 to beg. Six different persons gave her a halfpenny each, 
 and she bought three penny worth of matches and began 
 trading. She sold them, and bought some bread, and a 
 fresh stock in trade. Thus she managed to get to the 
 metropolis once more ; and, having done so, she took to 
 selling stay laces, and, in the course of her daily rounds, 
 Hackney claimed her attention. Many who knew her, 
 pitied her, and out of compassion bought of her. At 
 night she lodged in some of the low lodging houses, pay- 
 ing 3(i. per night for shelter. When sober she was highly 
 gifted, clean, and industrious, and noneof her companions 
 in vice would dare to visit her. She was a good manager, 
 and understood the science of domestic economy ; and 
 now, having kept sober a few weeks, she gained a little 
 more sympathy from those who had long known her in 
 Homerton, and she felt that she was not entirely forsaken. 
 A Christian woman offered to lend her a bed, and she 
 took a room for herself, went out charing occasionally, 
 and, by this means, she managed to get a few things to 
 make a decent appearance once more ; she came to me 
 and signed the pledge, and attended my meetings, and, 
 subsequently, public worship. After a few months she 
 made herself look quite respectable, and there were 
 grounds to hope well of her. She attended the ministry 
 of the Eev. J. Davies, and manifested a growing interest 
 
236 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 in the things of Grod. About this time she felt that she 
 had gained a little standing in society ; she had worked 
 hard, and fared harder still, till she had got a room 
 nicely furnished by her own industry. The gospel so 
 faithfully preached by her minister had reached her 
 heart with power, and she felt an increasing desire to do 
 something for the good of her fellow creatures. She 
 came to my temperance meeting one evening, asked per- 
 mission to address the meeting, and we arranged for her 
 to do so the next Monday evening. It having been an- 
 nounced that ^ Mrs. was going to speak next Mon- 
 
 day evening,' when the time came the room was crowded, 
 and while she portrayed the evils of drunkenness, and 
 what she had undergone herself, many a hard heart was 
 touched, and their eyes melted to tears. A second ad- 
 dress was delivered wdth the same effect, on which occa- 
 sion she brought a large colored engraving of our Lord 
 and the Twelve Disciples at the ^ Last Supper,' and 
 showed it to the audience, telling them that such pictures 
 were preferable to her than any of ^ the publican's stuff 
 which they sold to ruin men's souls and bodies.' The 
 desire she had no\v to do good, was as great as it was 
 before to do evil. Humbled under a sense of her crimes 
 and guilt, she now was enabled to look unto the Lord 
 for strength to support her. Her struggles for a subsis- 
 tence were great ; sometimes her fare was a little bread, 
 weak coffee, and a red herring, which she sometimes cut 
 in two, three, or four pieces, each to serve a day, according 
 as the case might be with her finances, till she had got 
 her things around her comfortable. She kept away from 
 her husband and family, but felt desirous to do them 
 good ; and, having obtained some tracts, she went to the 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 237 
 
 docks, where her husband was on duty. She distributed 
 them, and gave one to an officer, saying, ^ Will you be 
 
 kind enough to give this tract to Mr. mentioning 
 
 her husband’s name. She then put her veil up over her 
 bonnet, and passed by her husband without speaking. 
 Shortly after this, she met him at Victoria Park, and 
 walked out of it side by side with him, silent. At 
 another time she met him as she was leaving the street 
 in which she lived ; they both smiled at each other, and 
 he asked her where she lived. After this he visited her 
 frequently. 
 
 called on her one morning, and found her ill in 
 bed, when she showed me two new hymn-books which 
 she had received as a present from her minister. She 
 said, ^ I very much prize them.’ She spoke of her past 
 life, of the great change which she by the grace of God 
 had experienced, and of her hope in Christ alone for 
 salvation. Subsequently her children were reconciled 
 to her, and at the request of my dear wife they visited 
 her. The eldest son, who, after the example of his 
 father, had often bruised her flesh by his blows, and had 
 enlisted in the army, was glad to receive shelter from her 
 for himself and his child, and found he had a friend and 
 a faithful adviser in his once degraded and maltreated 
 mother. It was early one morning in March, 1860, that 
 she called to inform me that her husband was taken 
 very ill, and she was anxious for me to visit him, as he 
 would not allow any one else to visit him. I went and 
 saw him,' and read a portion of the Word of God to 
 him, warned and exhorted him to repent of his sins, 
 and seek the Lord Jesus Christ as his Saviour. He was 
 glad of my visit, and sent for his wife to come to nurse 
 
238 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 him during his affliction. She complied with the re- 
 quest ; and now a scene, which angels must have beheld 
 with delight, was transacted in that abode. The wife of 
 his early fondness had returned, — humble, penitent, and 
 a new creature. The husband, still impenitent, allowed 
 her to take the precious Word of God in her hands to 
 read to him, and was glad to see and hear her at his 
 bedside, on her knees, pouring forth ardent petitions to 
 Almighty God in his behalf. His eyes being opened, he 
 saw the fact that his wife, after all her faults, was a 
 changed woman, and had, by the grace of God, been 
 preserved to him to comfort him in his last days. He 
 told his children to take her advice now, for it would 
 do them good. He recovered from his illness, and 
 occasionally went with her to the house of God. She 
 gave proof of the stability of her character, and saw 
 the minister respecting her being admitted into com- 
 munion with the people of God. But that step was not 
 hastened. It was thought advisable that she should be 
 long tested, ere that privilege should be afforded her. 
 Her walk was steady and consistent ; many highly 
 respectable ladies who knew her, took a very lively 
 interest in her, and with wonder they beheld the power 
 of divine grace in her soul. She warned and exhorted 
 others of the evils of sin, and made reference to herself 
 as an instance of what the grace of God could do, 
 saying, ^ God has done it.' But, as with the lovely 
 flower, which is easily nipt by the wind's untimely 
 blast, so was it with her spiritual career on this earth. 
 
 I heard of her being taken ill, and called to see her. 
 
 I found that she had been ill a fortnight, and that her 
 husband, who, a week after she was taken ill, was 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 239 
 
 fondling over her^ had been taken ill of the virulent 
 fever and erysipelas^ and had died on the evening before 
 I got there, and was in his coffin. She had been un- 
 conscious during the whole of the time, did not know 
 even of his having been ill, and was still insensible. 
 Two days after, she died, and on Sunday, October 21, 
 they were both buried together at Victoria-park Ceme- 
 tery. So that, instead of her joining in holy fellowship 
 with the Church militant on earth, she speedily was 
 taken to join the Church triumphant in heaven, and 
 the plant of the Lord's own planting was removed to 
 bloom in the paradise of Grod. On the day of their 
 burial, I made known in the district that I was going 
 to speak on their solemn deaths, and the meeting-room 
 was crowded. There were some of the most hardened 
 sinners in the district present, who appeared to be im- 
 pressed by what I said to them from the Word of God. 
 May the Lord in mercy grant that many souls like hers 
 may be saved in like manner, who may be our crown 
 of rejoicing at the great day of account." 
 
 Or take the case of the old woman who kept a stall 
 in Shoreditch ; in one little alley she had lived for four- 
 teen years, and she was a well-known character in that 
 neighborhood for levity and irreligion. In writing of 
 her, the missionary who visited her, says : — 
 
 The heathenish state of her mind was most painful 
 to witness. A Christian lady observed to me some time 
 ago : — ^ I was asking myself the other day, can it be 
 possible that such a creature really has a soul ?' Yes, 
 it was true ! — within a casket so begrimed, so repulsive 
 and uncouth, there was a precious gem, which the Holy 
 Spirit could bring to light, a heart which the love of 
 
240 
 
 THE '‘I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 Jesus could warm and expand ! Many a time, when 
 invited to the meeting, she has said, ^ Oh yes, I mean to 
 give yer a turn some day and, when hope was almost 
 extinguished, she came at last to redeem her promise. 
 She was pleased with what she heard ; for, when leav- 
 ing, she said, as she dropped a curtsey, ^ I shall come 
 agin, ^cause I understands what you say.' Accord- 
 ingly, she has continued to come ; frequently bringing a 
 companion with her. I do not think she has been once 
 absent since her first coming ; and the same lady re- 
 marked to me the great alteration in her behavior, 
 
 saying, ^ I'm very glad comes to the meeting ; she 
 
 tells me about what you say ; and I really think that 
 the Word has taken root, and light is breaking in upon 
 her dark mind.' She now goes regularly to church on 
 Sunday, and has induced three other poor persons to 
 accompany her, both to the church and to the meeting- 
 room." 
 
 There are some souls which are to be eventually won 
 only by patience, labor, and perseverance ; they are 
 slow in listening, and then slow in acting ; and it may 
 be, that even when they do act, it is with indecision and 
 irregularity, and many slips and backslidings, before 
 they come fairly out for Christ ; but just as the fisher- 
 man does not cease to haul at the net, because the fish 
 plunge in its toils ; so the one who fishes for men must 
 not cease to work, because he has to deal with some 
 one who gives him trouble ; it is often found that the 
 heaviest fish to secure are the most valuable when they 
 are brought to land. 
 
 Let us but attach real value to the fish ; let us but 
 have design and unity of purpose as regards catching 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 241 
 
 theiH;, and we may all of us do great things for God. If 
 we esteem souls as of great price, we shall he earnest in 
 our efforts to catch them ; and God will supply us with 
 opportunities enough. We need not go out of our way 
 to seek them ; they will ever keep presenting themselves 
 to us day by day ; he will be found to have lived a 
 glorious life indeed, who has availed himself of every 
 opportunity which presented itself of winning souls. 
 
 Dr. Spencer, in his Pastoral Sketches” gives us an 
 instance of success in fishing, the result, with God’s 
 blessing, of 'perseverance. 
 
 The young man of whom he tells, belonged to a 
 pious family ; his parents and several of his brothers 
 were members of the church ; he was a moral, staid, 
 industrious, intelligent young man, always attending 
 church, and was a teacher in the sabbath school. I had 
 not supposed that his feelings of opposition to religion 
 had ever assumed the strong character which he de- 
 scribed to me now ; and I had never known the means 
 of their alteration. I happened to ask him : — 
 
 ^ Mr. H , what was it that first called your 
 
 attention definitely to religion, when you began to make 
 it a matter of your personal concern ?' 
 
 ^ I found there was no escape, I could not get away 
 from it.’ 
 
 ^ What do you mean, when you say, there was no 
 escape ?' 
 
 ^^Why, the subject met me everywhere. Wherever 
 I went, there was something to make me think of it.’ 
 
 ^ Yes,’ said I, ^ there are things to bring it to mind, 
 all around us and always, if we would heed them. God 
 has filled this world with things suggestive of Himself.’ 
 
 11 
 
242 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 ^ Oh^ sir/ said he, ^ I don^t mean that at all. It is 
 true, that now almost everything makes me think of 
 God and my duty ; but I mean things that were done 
 071 purpose to catch me. It seemed to me that I was 
 pursued everywhere. There was no getting away. If I 
 went to church on Sunday, you never let us off with a 
 descriptive or literary sermon, like a college professor ; 
 you always had something about faith, or repentance, or 
 depravity, or the duty of sinners to fly to Christ. If 
 I went to my store on a week day, thinking I should 
 escape there, because I had something else to attend to, 
 my partner would have something to say to me about 
 religion, or something to say in my presence which I 
 knew was meant for me. If I met you in the street, 
 you were sure not to let me pass without bringing up 
 that subject in some way or other. If I went home to 
 dinner or tea, religion would be talked of at the table. 
 If I was spending any part of the evening in the family 
 after I left the store, it was the same thing again : reli- 
 gion, religion would come up ; every one had something 
 to say which made me think of religion. If I went oif 
 to bed (as I did many a time to get out of the hearing 
 of it), my sister had put a tract under my pillow. I 
 could not bear all this. I often avoided everybody, and 
 went to my room, where I could be alone, and think of 
 what I please ; and there the first thing to meet me 
 would be some religious book, which my mother or 
 some one else had put in the place most likely to attract 
 my attention ; and ]3erhaps left it open at some passage 
 marked on purpose for me. After several of my young 
 associates had become Christians, and began to talk 
 about religion, I avoided them, and sought other com- 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF SERVICE. 
 
 243 
 
 pany, and pretty soon they began to talk religion too ! 
 I was provoked at it V 
 
 ^ Did these people^ who endeavored to influence you, 
 treat you rudely or impolitely ?’ 
 
 ^ Oh, no ! that was the worst of it, I hoped they 
 would. If they had been meddlesome and impudent, I 
 should have had something to And fault with, and 
 should have told them to mind their own business, and 
 keep their religion to themselves. I should have said, 
 that religion makes men ungentlemanly and unfit for 
 society ; and so should have excused myself. But there 
 was none of that. There was little said to me. All 
 that was done, was only calculated to make me think 
 for myself, and of myself ; and so I could not com- 
 plain. But religion came up before me on all sides ; 
 whichever way I turned, morning, noon, and night, it 
 was there. I could not escape it." 
 
 Did you have a strong desire to escape it 
 
 ^ Yes, I had. I turned every way. I avoided Chris- 
 tians. One Sunday I stayed away from church ; but 
 that contrivance worked the other luay^ for I could think 
 of nothing but religion all the morning, and so in the 
 afternoon I went to church, to see if I couldn"t forget it 
 there. When I came home I went into an unoccupied 
 room, because they began to talk about the sermon in 
 the parlor ; and the first thing that met me was the 
 Bible, laid open at the 2nd chapter of Proverbs, and a 
 pencil-mark drawn round the first six verses. ^ This is 
 some of mothePs work," said I. Finally, I resolved to 
 sell out my store, and get away into some place where 
 I should not be tormented about religion any longer. 
 I began to make arrangements for selling out." 
 
244 
 
 THE ‘‘I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 ‘ Well; sir, what altered your mind 
 
 ^ Why, just as I was in this trouble to get away 
 from religion, resolving not to live any longer in such a 
 place as this ; I began to think what I was after, why 
 I desired to get away. And then I soon found out it 
 was because I desired to get away from the truth, and 
 away from God. That alarmed me, and shamed me. 
 I thought, then, that if there was no escape from men 
 here, there could be no escape from God any where. 
 And though it cost my pride a hard struggle, I made up 
 my mind that I was all wrong, and I would attend to 
 my salvation. Then I began ; but I don't think I ever 
 should have begun, if I had not been hunted in every 
 place where I tried to escape.' 
 
 ^ Did you have any more temptation to neglect re- 
 ligion after that T 
 
 No, I immediately took my stand. I went among 
 the inquirers openly. Then I was disappointed to find 
 how little I cared any longer for the world, for what 
 people would say, and all such things, as I used to think 
 would be great trials to me. And I believe now^ there 
 is very much gained by getting a sinner to commit him- 
 self on this matter. Then he will not wish to get off.' 
 
 ‘ What way do you think is most likely to succeed 
 for inducing any one to commit himself, to attend to 
 his religion 
 
 ^ Oh, I cannot answer that. Any way is good, I 
 suppose, which will lead people to think. Judging 
 from my own experience, I should suppose that no ir- 
 religious person in the world could put off religion any 
 longer, if his way was hedged up as mine was, so that 
 he could not avoid thinking of the subject.' 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 245 
 
 Such was a part of my conversation with him. He 
 united with the church ; and I have some reason to 
 suppose^ that since that time he has aimed to ^ lead 
 people to think/ in such a manner that there could be 
 ^ no escape.' " 
 
 And now^ we turn to the appliances of the work^ the 
 nets and hooks wherewith we must go forth as fishers 
 of men. These a 2 )pliances lie ready to the hand of 
 every one who is willing to go forth and fish for men ; 
 none need stand idle for the want of means wherewith 
 to work. Tracts^ sermons^ conversations^ giving and 
 lending good books, rightly spending money for the 
 Lord ; these are some out of the many appliances which 
 are at hand for whosoever will fish for men. 
 
 Many a soul has been won for God in ordinary con- 
 versation, how many in deliberate conversation upon 
 divine things ! Whoever has a tongue, has a net either 
 for good or evil ; for winning souls for heaven, or for 
 seducing them into hell. The human tongue has in all 
 probability swept more souls into perdition, than any 
 other implement of the devil. Death and life are in 
 the power of the tongue Prov. xviii. 21. 
 
 Experience shows us that there is much need of skill 
 in the use of this net, but this skill will be always 
 vouchsafed of God. The fish are wary, and it is only 
 by keeping our one point in view, and steadily turning 
 always to it, no matter how often we have been foiled, 
 that we are at all likely to succeed. Many a time has 
 the writer been kept half an hour before he could suc- 
 ceed in getting the conversation with some sick person 
 to be decidedly upon the concerns of the soul. Now 
 
246 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 and again we seemed on the very verge of what we de- 
 sired, and then some trivial remark sent ns as far away 
 again as ever. Our course was like that of the Israel- 
 ites in the desert, continually towards the promised land 
 — and almost touching it — and then going back as far 
 as ever again. No more curious book could he written 
 than the conversations of a minister with such persons, 
 up to the point where he succeeded in making it bear 
 upon spiritual things. 
 
 We must not be discouraged because no immediate 
 result seems to follow upon our conversations for Grod. 
 We cannot tell when they will turn up, nor when they 
 will open the way for further progress in Divine things. 
 
 A missionary called many times upon a certain 
 woman with tracts, and although she received them, it 
 was generally with reluctance. He had almost de- 
 spaired of ever being any real benefit to her, for though 
 she did not persecute, there was an awful aversion to 
 the truth, and he could never get beyond the street 
 until the hand of Grod was laid upon her. He was 
 then requested to call and see her, and, to his great sur- 
 j)rise, found her in concern about her soul. Her afflic- 
 tion was severe, but it was not that that caused her 
 anxiety, but her everlasting welfare. What had been 
 said to her at the door had made an impression on her 
 mind not easily to he got rid of^ and her grief was, that 
 she had not yielded to the convictions under which she 
 had been laboring, and that she had not admitted him 
 when she ought to have done so. Her anxiety increased, 
 and with it her affection for God's people. The follow- 
 ing are some of her remarks : — Her dauffliter, who is 
 averse to what she calls ^ nonsense,' reproved her for ad- 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 247 
 
 mitting the missionary, and she replied, ^ Ah, my child ! 
 I know one thing, and I would give the world to know 
 another : I am a sinner — I feel it, I know it ; oh, that 
 I could feel that mercy is in store for me !' At another 
 time, in speaking to a relative, she said, ^ Never, no never, 
 despise the servants of the Lord ; listen to them, they 
 are your best friends ; I have found it so.' Indeed, she 
 preaches Christ to all who come to see her." 
 
 Perhaps it may be only one word, or one sentence 
 that will hook the fish, as was the case in the following 
 instance. 
 
 How glad I am to see you, Mr. T. !' said a sick 
 woman to a city missionary ; ^ I 'm always glad to see 
 you now ; but you know that I did n't use to be so. 
 I did n't like to see you come. I used to think I know'd 
 every thing when you came to talk to me, but now I 'm 
 different ; I see I know nothing at all. Years ago, 
 when I went to your meeting one Sunday night, you 
 spoke on the Flood, and you spoke about Noah's car- 
 penters being lost, who had helped to build the ark. I 
 was led to tremble then ; but you know, though I 
 promised then to lead a new life, I soon forgot all about 
 it, and went on in sin like a poor, blind old sinner. But 
 that often corn'd into ray mind about Noah's carpenters 
 being lost. I could n't shake that off. I 've thought on 
 it hundreds of times. And though I went on in sin, 
 you know I was n't happy ; I was miserable at times. 
 But ever since you read that chapter about the Phari- 
 see and the Publican, I 've been led to see what a poor, 
 vile, and ignorant old sinner I am. 'T was that chap- 
 ter that opened my eyes. I thank God that you ever 
 corn'd. Now I feel that I want more faith. I want to 
 
248 
 
 THE I WILL ” OF SERVICE. 
 
 feel like as the poor Samaritan leper you spoke of on 
 Sunday evening ; and I want to cast myself at the feet 
 of Jesus, with gratitude for what He have done for me.' 
 Her love for the means of grace and for visitation is 
 very great, and she often says, ^ Do come and see me as 
 often as you can. It refreshes my soul so to see you, 
 and if I can get out at all now, and can only as it were 
 crawl, I feel that I must and do come to hear you.' 
 She has recently been very dangerously ill, but her faith 
 and hope in the Lord Jesus have been manifest to all 
 around her. She is able with St. Paul to say, ^ I know 
 in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is 
 able to keep what I have committed to Him against 
 that day.' She is well known to several, who take a 
 pleasure in visiting her, and listening to some of her 
 pithy sayings about what the Lord has graciously done 
 for her soul. His grace is triumphant in her, and 
 makes her glad in God her Saviour." 
 
 Conversations will often remain in people's minds, 
 even though they wish to get rid of them, and who can 
 tell the moment when they will turn up ? 
 
 And bear in mind, dear reader, that the whole thing 
 may be done by a solitary observation or remark. You 
 
 * Hero is a good example of following up well an original remark. 
 ‘‘Travelling once on tlie outside of a stage coach, I said to a man, who 
 for a few miles happened to be my only companion, ‘ Do you care any 
 thing about your soul ?’ ‘What is that to you!’ he replied, in a tone 
 and manner which he evidently thought would silence me. I at once 
 remarked that certainly it must be of far greater importance to him- 
 self than it could possibly be to me ; but that if I, a perfect stranger, felt 
 any interest in the question, how much more ought he to feel, since it 
 mainly concerned himself! ‘Upon my word,’ said the man, ‘there is 
 something like good sense in that.’ lie then listened attentively to all 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF SERVICE. 
 
 249 
 
 need not be a logician ; you may perhaps have no power 
 of sustaining conversation ; you may perhaps be wholly 
 destitute of brilliancy ; one sentence/*" even one word, 
 may do the wmrk. It was to a single sentence, that Merle 
 D’Aubigne owned his conversion. The following gives 
 us this part of his history : — 
 
 ^^When M. Monod and I,'" says he, attended the 
 university of Geneva, there was a professor of divinity who 
 confined himself to lecturing on the immortality of the 
 soul, the existence of God, and similar topics. As to the 
 Trinity, he did not believe it. Instead of the Bible, he 
 gave us quotations from Seneca and Plato ; Saint Seneca 
 and Saint Plato were the two saints whose writings 
 he held up to admiration.'' And thoroughly did the 
 disciples enter into the opinions and spirit of their 
 master. About the time of Mr. Haldane's arrival in 
 Geneva, there appeared apamphlet, entitled, ‘^^Considera- 
 tions on the Divinity of Jesus Christ," by Henry 
 Empeytaz. This pamphlet produced great excitement 
 among the students in theology, to whom it was 
 addressed. They assembled in the grand hall, chose 
 
 I had to say. In the course of my address, I saw him try to conceal an 
 unbidden tear ; and when he left the coach, which he did at the next 
 market town, he said, ‘ Good morning to you, sir, and many thanks for 
 your faithfulness.’ ’’ 
 
 * A number of intimate friends being at dinner on the Lord’s day, 
 one of the company, in order to prevent improper discourse, said, “It 
 is a question whether we shall all go to heaven or not.” This plain ex- 
 pression occasioned a general seriousness and self-examination. Ono 
 thought, “ If any of this company go to hell, it must be myself;” and 
 so thought another and another. In short, it was afterwards found, 
 that this sentence proved, by the special blessing of God upon it, instru- 
 mental to the conversion of many. 
 
 II* 
 
250 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF SEKVICE. 
 
 for their president^ one of their own number^ and 
 addressed to the Venerable Company'' a letter^ in 
 which they solemnly protested against what they termed 
 ‘^‘^the odious aggression.'" The foremost man on this 
 occasion, the chosen j)resident of the assembled students, 
 was no other than Merle D'Aubigne. But the Lord 
 sent one of His servants to Greneva," he says, and I 
 well remember the visit of Robert Haldane. I heard of 
 him first as an English or Scotch gentleman, who spoke 
 much about the Bible, w^hich seemed a very strange 
 thing to me and the other students, to whom it was a 
 shut book. I afterw^ards met Mr. Haldane at a private 
 house, along with some other friends, and heard him 
 read from an English Bible a chapter from Romans 
 about the natural corruption of man — a doctrine of 
 which I had never before heard. In fact, I was quite 
 astonished to hear of men being corrupt by nature. I 
 remember saying to Mr. Haldane, ^Now I see that 
 doctrine in the Bible.' Yes,' he replied, ^ but do you 
 SEE IT IN YOUR HEART ?' That was a simple question 
 hut it came home to my conscience. It was the sword of 
 the Spirit ; and from that time I saw that my heart was 
 corrupted, and knew from the Word of God, that I can 
 be saved by grace alone." 
 
 There are often little helps in the way of circum- 
 stances which we may avail ourselves of, as in the 
 following instance, and they will prove very helpful. 
 The fisher for men should turn everything to account : 
 
 A young man who had graduated at one of the first 
 colleges in America, and was celebrated for his literary 
 attainments, particularly his knowledge of mathematics, 
 settled in a village where a faithful minister of the 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SEKVICE. 
 
 251 
 
 gospel was stationed. It was not long before the clergy- 
 man met with him in one of his evening walks^ and 
 after some conversation^ as they were about to part^ 
 addressed him as follows : — I have heard that you are 
 celebrated for your mathematical skill, I have a problem 
 which I wish you to- solve.'' What is it?" eagerly 
 enquired the young man. The clergyman answered, 
 with a solemn tone of voice, What shall it profit a man, 
 if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul ?" 
 The youth returned home, and endeavored to shake off 
 the impression fastened on him by the problem proposed 
 to him, but in vain. In the giddy round of pleasure, in 
 his business, and in his studies, the question still forcibly 
 returned to him, What shall it profit a man, if he shall 
 gain the whole world, and lose his owui soul ?" It 
 finally resulted in his conversion, and he became an 
 able advocate and preacher of that gospel which he 
 once rejected. 
 
 Many a time has a word turned and shaped the 
 whole course of a man's career on earth ; a word has 
 made, and a word has unmade himf cast in as your 
 hook, even a single word, you know not, perhaps you 
 never will know until eternity, what it will bring 
 forth. 
 
 In Madame Guyon's life, we meet with a very interest- 
 ing case of the value of a conversation, and especially of 
 seizing an opportunity. Such opportunities are often 
 very short, as in the present case. -In June or July, 
 1671, a letter was brought to Madame Guyon from her 
 half brother. Father La Mothe. The bearer was La 
 Combe, who was then young, but came highly recom- 
 mended from La Mothe, who wished his sister to see 
 
252 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 him, and to regard and treat him as one of his most 
 intimate friends. Madame Guyon says that she was 
 unwilling at this time to form new acquaintances ; hut 
 desirous of corresponding to the request of her brother, 
 she admitted him. The conversation turned chiefly 
 upon religious subjects. With the clear insight of 
 character which she possessed, she could not fail to 
 become deeply interested in La Combe, as one on whom 
 many religious interests might depend. But still she 
 could not at that time fully decide whether she should 
 regard him as truly a possessor of religion, or as merely 
 a seeker after it. I thought,'' she said, that he either 
 loved God, or was disposed to love Him, a state of things 
 which could not fail to interest me, as it was the great 
 desire of my heart, that everybody should experience 
 this Divine love." As God had already made use of her 
 as an instrument in the conversion of three persons, 
 members of the religious order to which he belonged, 
 she indulged the hope that she might be made a benefit 
 to him. And although she says she felt a reluctance 
 to begin the acquaintance, she now felt a desire to 
 continue it. 
 
 La Combe left her, but he was not satisfied. Provi- 
 dence had brought him in contact with a mind to which 
 either grace 'or nature, or both in combination, had given 
 power over other minds. He desired, therefore, to see 
 more, and to hear more. And, accordingly, on the basis 
 of the acquaintance which had thus begun, he repeated 
 the visit after a short time. Madame Guyon remarks 
 that La Combe, who seems to have been a man not only 
 of intelligence, but also of vivacity and generosity of 
 feeling, was very acceptable to her husband. On this 
 
THE ‘‘I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 253 
 
 second visit lie conversed with her husband freeljL 
 During the interview, he ivas taken somewhat unwell, 
 and with the view of recovering and refreshing himself 
 in the open air, he went out and walked in the garden. 
 Soon after, Madame Gruyon, at the particular request of 
 her husband, went out for the purpose of seeing him, and 
 of rendering any assistance which might be needed. She 
 availed herself of the opportunity which was thus 
 afforded, to explain to him what she denominates the 
 interior or inward way, la voie de Vinterieur ; a way 
 which is inward, because it rests upon God, in distinction 
 from the way which is outward, and which rests upon 
 man. He was prepared to receive her remarks, because 
 he inwardly felt the need of that form of experience 
 which was involved in them, and because he perceived 
 from her countenance, her conversation, and her life, 
 that she possessed that of which he felt himself to be 
 destitute. La Combe ahoays admitted that this con- 
 versation formed a crisis in his life. Her words, attended 
 by Divine power, sank deep into his soul. It was then 
 and there, that he formed the purpose, with the Divine 
 assistance, to be wholly the Lord's. God was pleased," 
 says Madame Guyon, to make use of such an unworthy 
 instrument as myself, in the communication of His grace. 
 He has since owned to me, that he ivent away at that 
 time changed into quite another man." 
 
 To these we may be permitted to add the following 
 illustrations : — 
 
 When on a journey for ray health, in 1812," writes 
 a Christian minister, on a hot sultry day, I called at a 
 farm house in one of the beautiful towns in Berkshire 
 county to procure a drink of water. There happened to 
 
254 
 
 THE ‘a WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 be no one in the house but a young lady, apparently 
 about sixteen years of age^ to whom I was introduced by 
 my travelling companion^ and from whom I received a 
 glass of that refreshing and healthy beverage which 
 flows in such rich abundance from the hills of New 
 England. 
 
 As I rose to depart I took her hand^ and said^ 
 
 ^ Permit me^ my dear girl^ before I leave you, to inquire 
 whether you have yet given your heart to your precious 
 Saviour ?’ 
 
 She replied in the negative, while the tear that 
 stole down her cheek showed that she was not without 
 feeling. 
 
 I then said to her, ^ My child, I am a minister of 
 Jesus Christ, and as such it is not only my duty, but my 
 privilege to offer you eternal life, upon the condition of 
 your repenting of your sins, and putting your trust in 
 Him ; will you accept of this offer ?’ 
 
 ^•She answered with deep emotion, cannot decide 
 that question now.' 
 
 said, ^You will have to decide it now. Jesus 
 Christ is beseeching you by me, to be reconciled to God, 
 and if you do not choose to tell me what your decision 
 is. He will take the answer from your heart, and it will 
 be recorded in heaven, that you have either accepted the 
 offer of eternal life, made to you by your Eedeemer to- 
 day, or that you have rejected Him again.' 
 
 She seemed to take a new view of her fearful re- 
 sponsibility, and wept convulsively ; but could not be 
 prevailed on to tell me what her decision was. 
 
 After repeating some appropriate passages of Scrip- 
 ture, to show her her duty and her danger, I left her. 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 255 
 
 expecting to see and hear of her no more, until we 
 should meet at the judgment seat of Christ. 
 
 Years afterwards, on stepping upon a steamboat in 
 New York to go to Philadelphia, my name being called 
 by some of my friends- on board, a gentleman came up 
 to me, and asked if my name was Wisner. On being 
 answered in the affirmative, he inquired if I had ever 
 
 been in the town of , Berkshire county. I told him 
 
 I had passed through it in 1812. He then informed me, 
 that when he was coming from home, a lady requested 
 him, if he should meet me on his journey, to say, that 
 she was the individual who gave me the glass of water ; 
 and what I had said on that occasion sunk so deeply 
 into her heart, that she could find no rest until she 
 hoped she had closed in with the offer of her blessed 
 Lord ; and that she wished me to accept her thanks for 
 what was to her, truly ‘ a word spoken in season. "" 
 
 In 1815, while spending a Sabbath in a place where 
 they had no stated preaching, I jjut up with a deacon in 
 the church, whose sister-in-law had come from a neigh- 
 boring town to spend the Sabbath with him. She was 
 a gay thoughtless girl of about eighteen years of age. 
 Knowing that her widowed mother was a pious woman, 
 and felt anxious about her daughter, I wished to have 
 some personal conversation with her before she went 
 home. She seemed to be aware of my intention, and so 
 entirely avoided me, that I had no opportunity of 
 speaking to her, until she was ready on Monday morning 
 to return home. When she started, I accompanied her 
 to the door, and as I assisted her to get on her horse, I 
 told her that 1 was deeply concerned for her soul ; I felt 
 
256 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 that she was in imminent danger^ and entreated her to 
 remember her Creator now in the days of her youth. 
 She made me no answer^ but rode off^ and I felt that I 
 had lost an opportunity of doing her good. 
 
 About a year afterwards^ I was sent for to ad- 
 minister the sacrament to that churchy and after the 
 preparatory lecture^ the deacons told me there was a 
 candidate to be examined^ whom I found to be the 
 young woman who had so skillfully avoided me on a 
 former occasion. 
 
 ^^On inquiring what it was that first called her 
 attention to her lost condition, she informed me that it 
 was the few words I said to her, when helping her on 
 her horse ; that they rung in her ears all the way home, 
 and deprived her of rest until she found it in Christ. 
 Her successful evasion of a more deliberate conversa- 
 tion, was doubtless employed to bring a brief word 
 home the more forcibly to her unguarded heart.'' 
 
 A number of acquaintances and friends had assem- 
 bled to spend a social evening together. In the course 
 of the evening they resolved to have a dance, and pre- 
 vailed on Michael Onions (the man at whose house they 
 were) to go out a distance of two miles to procure a 
 fiddler for them. On his way he met a stranger, who, 
 having missed his road, requested Michael to direct him 
 to Madeley. Michael readily consented to do this, and 
 walked about half a mile with him for this purpose. 
 The stranger ascertained the errand on which Onions 
 was going, and began to talk to him about his soul, 
 showing him the unsuitableness of such follies to a dying 
 man, his need of salvation and a personal interest ,in 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 257 
 
 Christy and his awful danger as an unsaved sinner. 
 When the stranger left Michael^ the conversation had 
 so impressed him that he dared not proceed on his er- 
 rand^ but returned to his home. When he opened the 
 dooi'j his friends inquired. 
 
 ^ Have you brought the fiddler ?’ 
 
 He answered, ^ No.'’ 
 
 ^ Is he not at home ? Have you been to Brosely ?' 
 
 ^ No.’ 
 
 ^ Why, what is the matter ? you look ill, and are 
 all of a tremble.’ 
 
 Michael then told them that he had met somebody, 
 but whether a man or angel he could not tell ; he never 
 before heard such a man. He repeated what had been 
 said to him on spiritual subjects, and added, ^ I dare not 
 go to Brosely ; I would not for the world.’ 
 
 The party was broken up. The next Sabbath 
 Michael and some of his friends attended Madeley 
 church, and there, in Eev. John Fletcher, the new vicar, 
 he recognised the stranger who had conversed with him. 
 The impression wrought on Michael was lasting in its 
 character, and under the influence of the Holy Spirit, 
 led to his conversion. He became a zealous, devoted, 
 and useful Christian. ^ A word spoken in due season, 
 how good it is.’ ” 
 
 The late Bishop Wilson, of Calcutta, tells us that 
 an observation was the means of his conversion. 
 
 ^^One evening I was as usual engaged in wicked 
 discourse with the other servants in the warehouse, and 
 religion happening (humanly speaking I . mean) to be 
 started, I was engaged very warmly in denying the 
 responsibility of mankind, on the supposition of absolute 
 
258 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF SERVICE. 
 
 election^ and the folly of all human exertions^ where 
 grace was held to be irresistible. (I can scarcely pro- 
 ceed for wonder that God should have upheld me in life, 
 at the moment I was cavilling and blaspheming at His 
 sovereignty and grace). We had a young man in the 
 warehouse whose amusement for many years had been 
 entirely in conversing on the subject of religion. He 
 was saying that God had appointed the end ; He had 
 also appointed the means. I then happened to say that 
 I had none of those feelings towards God which He 
 required and approved. Well, then,^' said he, pray 
 for the feelings!' I carried it off with a joke, but the 
 words at the first made some impression on my mind, 
 and thinking that I would still say that I had done all 
 I could ; when I retired at night I began to pray for the 
 feelings. It was not long before the Lord in some 
 measure answered my prayers, and I grew very uneasy 
 about my state.'' 
 
 He who is inclined to fish for souls may also make 
 iise of good hooks^ and that with great success. Many 
 souls owe their salvation to good books. 
 
 ^Wears of despondency passed over John Bunyan 
 before he came to the enjoyment of the peace of the 
 gospel. The light which first stole in upon his soul, and 
 in which his darkness finally melted away, was a clear 
 discovery of the person of Christ, more especially a 
 distinct perception of the dispositions which He mani- 
 fested while He was here on earth. And one thing 
 greatly helped him, he alighted on a congenial mind, and 
 an experience in many respects like his own. Providence 
 threw in his way an old copy of Luther's ^ Commentary 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 259 
 
 on Galatians/ ^ so old/ lie says^ ^ that it was ready to 
 fall piece from piece^ if I did but turn it over. When I 
 had but a little way perused the book, I found my 
 condition in his experience so largely and profoundly 
 handled, as if his book had been written out of my 
 heart.^ 
 
 It was while reading a book that Colonel Gardiner 
 saw the celebrated vision which issued in his conversion. 
 
 Towards the middle of J uly, 1719, he spent an evening 
 of folly with some of his gay associates. The company 
 broke up about eleven, and at twelve he had made a 
 criminal appointment. The intervening hour must be 
 bridged over by some employment. A pious mother had, 
 without his knowledge, slipped into his portmanteau 
 Watson's ^Christian Soldier, or Heaven taken by Storm.' 
 The title attracted him, and he expected some amuse- 
 ment from its military phraseology. He took it and 
 read, but it produced no seriousness nor reflection. 
 While the book was yet in his hand, however, im- 
 pressions were made on his mind, the fruit of which 
 must be regarded as the best index to whence they came. 
 Whether he was asleep or awake at the time, he* felt it 
 afterwards difficult to determine. But if asleep, so 
 vividly was what he saw and heard impressed on his 
 mind, that it seemed to be a waking reality. He thought 
 he saw an unusual blaze of light fall on the book while 
 he was reading, which he at first imagined might happen 
 by some accident in the candle. But lifting up his eyes, 
 he apprehended, to his extreme amazement, that there 
 was before him, as it were, suspended in the air, a visible 
 representation of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross, 
 surrounded on all sides with a glory ; and was impressed 
 
260 
 
 THE ‘a WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 as if a voice, or something equivalent to a voice, had 
 come to him to this effect : — ^ 0, sinner ! did I suffer 
 this for thee ? and are these thy returns ?' 
 
 The issue of this vision was, that Colonel Gardiner 
 became a converted man, and lived to the glory of God 
 for many years. 
 
 Sometimes an isolated jiassage in a book will do the 
 work either of convicting or comforting ; one sentence 
 may be fruit bearing, when many pages seem dead. 
 
 Miranda N.,'' says a Christian minister, ^^was about 
 eighteen years of age, much distinguished for personal 
 beauty, but more for uncommon sweetness of disposition, 
 and great amiability of deportment. There was not, 
 perhaps, amongst all the people of my charge, one whose 
 case would have been more promptly cited, and perhaps 
 none so effectively, to disprove the doctrine of the entire 
 sinfulness of the unregenerate heart. She was deservedly 
 a general favorite. She seemed to entertain the kindest 
 affection towards all, and every one who knew her loved 
 her. One evening, at an inquiry meeting held at my 
 house, I noticed in a full room, a female in great apparent 
 distress ; her loud sobs were a frequent and painful 
 interruption of the silence of the room. On coming 
 to her seat I was not a little surprised to find myself by 
 the side of Miranda. The first inquiry I put to her was 
 this : ^ What has brought you here, Miranda ?' With 
 emphasis, she replied, ^My sins, sir.' With a view to 
 test the reality and depth of her convictions, I then 
 said, ^ But what have you done which makes either your 
 heart or life appear so heinously sinful At this 
 second question, she broke out in a voice that reached 
 the extreme part of the room, and thrilled through every 
 
THE ‘ I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 261 
 
 hearty for she was known and loved by every one present, 
 
 ^ I hate Grod, and I know it. I hate Christians, and I 
 know it. I hate my own being. Oh ! that I had never 
 been born.' As she uttered this acknowledgment, she 
 rose and left the room in irrepressible agony. A few 
 minutes after this, while walking the adjoining room in 
 great distress, her eye lighted upon a copy of Village 
 Hymns, which lay upon the sideboard. She eagerly 
 caught it up, and read at the first page, to which she 
 opened, these words — 
 
 “ There is a fountain filled with blood, 
 
 Drawn from Immanuel’s veins, 
 
 And sinners plunged beneath that flood, 
 
 Lose all their guilty stains.” 
 
 As she finished this verse, she dropped the book 
 and exclaimed, ^ I have found my Saviour ! This is the 
 Saviour I need ; 0 precious Saviour !' and many other 
 expressions of the same kind. Her enmity to God was 
 gone ; her burden was removed." 
 
 A hymn-book has often been made the means of 
 blessing. The case we have just referred to is by no 
 means solitary. To it we may add that of a poor 
 wretched female, religiously educated, but afterwards 
 abandoned to sin, misery, and want. This poor creature 
 was horrified at hearing her own child repeat, as soon as 
 she could well speak, some of the profane language 
 which she had learned of herself. She trembled at the 
 thought that she was not only going to hell herself, but 
 that she was also leading her child thither. She in- 
 stantly resolved that with the first sixpence she could 
 procure, she would purchase Dr. Watts's Divine Songs," 
 of which she had some recollection, to teach her infant 
 
262 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF SERVICE. 
 
 daughter. She did so ; and on opening the book, her 
 eye caught the following striking verse : — 
 
 “ Just as the tree, cut down, that fell 
 To north or southward ; there it lies ; 
 
 So man departs to heaven or hell, 
 
 Fixed in the state wherein he dies.” 
 
 She read on ; the event was blessed to her conversion, 
 and she lived and died a consistent professor of religion. 
 
 The Eev. Mr. Lord, seaman's chaplain, at Boston, 
 mentions a very interesting case of a man's conversion 
 by a book ; and of the conversion of a second man, 
 through the instrumentality of the first, a book in this 
 case also, being the means employed. 
 
 The first of these men was converted by reading 
 ^ Little Henry and his Bearer he went home, but on 
 refiection, made up his mind to go on board a man-of- 
 war, for the purpose of dging good. He shipped at 
 Charlestown, furnishing himself with tracts, Bibles, and 
 the Society's volumes. The crew were so wicked, that 
 at the end of nine months the chaplain was compelled 
 to leave the ship ; but this man, and one or two other 
 pious men remained. At last Grod blessed him. One 
 of the men was sent up to a foretop-sail as a punish- 
 ment. He asked this man to lend him a book, which 
 he did. He was a wicked man, and had been accus- 
 tomed to read ^ Tom Paine,' and similar works. But 
 now he came down serious, and inquired what he 
 should ^ do to be saved.' God opened the windows of 
 heaven, and in three weeks there were between twenty 
 and thirty inquirers, and fifteen or twenty entertaining 
 hope. There was great and continued opposition from 
 the officers. But at the end of three years-and-a-half 
 
THE “I WILL” OE SERVICE. 
 
 263 
 
 the vessel arrived^ and eleven men^ who had endured 
 this fiery persecution all this time, sat down to com- 
 memorate the dying love of Jesus.'^ 
 
 When Flavel was in London, in 1673, his old 
 bookseller, Mr. Boulter, told him that some time before, 
 there came into his shop a ^ sparkish gentleman,' to in- 
 quire for some play books. Mr. Boulter told him he 
 had none, but shewed him Mr. Flavel's treatise of 
 ^ Keeping the Heart,' entreating him to read it, and 
 assuring him it would do him more good than play 
 books. The gentleman read the title, and glancing 
 upon several pages here and there, broke out into these 
 and such other expressions, ^ What a fanatic was he 
 who made this book !' Mr. B. begged of him to buy 
 and read it, and told him he would have no cause to 
 censure it so bitterly. At last he bought it ; but told 
 him, he would not read it. / What will you do with it, 
 then ?’ said Mr. Boulter ; ^ I will tear and burn it,' 
 said he, ^andsendit to the devil.' Mr. B. told him, 
 then he should not have it ! Upon this the gentleman 
 promised to read it, and Mr. B. told him if he disliked 
 it upon reading, he would return him his money. About 
 a month after, the gentleman came to the shop again 
 in a very modest habit, and, with a serious countenance, 
 addressed Mr. Boulter thus : ^ Sir, I most heartily thank 
 you for having put this book into my hands, — I bless 
 God that moved you to do it ; it hath saved my soul. 
 Blessed be God that ever I came into your shop !' And 
 then he bought a hundred more of those books of him, 
 and told him he would give them to the poor, who 
 could not buy them." 
 
 A printed sermon of Whitfield's was the means of 
 
264 
 
 THE ‘a WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 a man^s conversion^ the circumstances of which we 
 give a place to here^ because they show us what people 
 thought of real spiritual earnestness in those days ; not 
 but that there are many who think Bedlam a very 
 suitable place for God's people^ even in the present 
 day. 
 
 J oseph Periam, a young man in London^ who had 
 read Whitfield's sermon on ^ Eegeneration/ became deeply 
 impressed by it ; he sold all he possessed^ and prayed 
 so loud and fasted so long, that his family supposed 
 him deranged^ and sent him to the Bedlam madhouse, 
 where he was treated as ^ Methodistically mad/ and as 
 one of Whitfield's gang. The keepers threw him down, 
 and forced a key into his mouth, while they drenched 
 him with medicine. He was then placed in a cold room 
 without windows, and with a damp cellar under it. 
 Periam, however, found some means of conveying a 
 letter to Whitfield, requesting both advice and a visit. 
 There were promptly given. The preacher soon dis- 
 covered that Periam was not mad ; and taking a Mr. 
 Seward and some other friends with him, he went 
 before the committee of the hospital to explain the case. 
 Seward so astounded the committee by quoting Scrip- 
 ture, that they pronounced him to be as mad as Periam. 
 The doctors frankly told the deputation, that in their 
 opinion, Whitfield and his followers were really beside 
 themselves. It was, however, agreed that if Whitfield 
 would take Periam out to Georgia, his release would 
 be granted. Thus the conference ended, and the young 
 man went out as a schoolmaster at the Orphan-House, 
 where he was exemplary and useful." 
 
 And in the present day there is (in this respjct at 
 
THE ‘a WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 265 
 
 least) assuredly no lack of fishing gear. Of making 
 many books there is no end ; the press is truly a mighty 
 engine, either for the ruin or the good of souls. There 
 are nets and hooks thus supplied to suit the calibre of 
 every fisherman, and the capacity of every fish ; and 
 we may do much by lending or giving them away. And 
 the book will sometimes succeed where the tract fails ; 
 many a one will be pleased with a book that would be 
 offended with a tract. Sometimes more good is done 
 by lending a book than by giving it ; when yoii get it 
 back, it is something like pulling in your line, you have 
 an opportunity of seeing if there be anything at the end 
 of it ; when your friend returns the book you will of 
 course ask him what he thinks of it ; you will get into 
 conversation with him on it ; you will possibly be 
 ready with some opinions of your own upon it ; you 
 will also be ready with a second volume ; and thus, a 
 soul, perhaps otherwise inaccessible, may be won to 
 everlasting life. 
 
 A very cheap, easy, and successful way of fishing for 
 men, is by means of tract distribution. This means of 
 usefulness is within the reach of every one who desires 
 to do something for the Lord ; the daily walk or drive 
 will afford a ready fishing ground,"^' with this advantage 
 that it is sure to swarm with fish. The author knew a 
 man who fished a good deal in this way, and it is to be 
 
 * In the Memoir of Francis Lewis Mackenzie, a young man of great 
 promise, we are told that “ a number of tracts selected and arranged for 
 different ages, from adults down to the infant were in his coat pocket, as 
 left by him, when he undressed for the last time.” What a sweet evi- 
 dence of readiness to be about the Master’s business in daily life ; laying 
 down the garments of daily life and the Master’s work together ^ to put 
 on bright raiment and enter into rest. 
 
 12 
 
266 
 
 THE ‘‘I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 hoped not without success. On one occasion our dili- 
 gent friend saw a pair of breeches hanging up to dry^ 
 and quick as thought he popped a tract into the pockety 
 let us hope with future edification to the owner ; when 
 the Avind Avas favorable he fleAV them over the walls of 
 the gardens of persons Avho Avould not be likely to take 
 them by hand ; sometimes he twisted them into the 
 shape of a penny bag of sugar^ or an ounce of tea, giving 
 them a good twist at the bottom, and a neat turn in at 
 the top ; then again by doubling and re-doubling them 
 until they were no larger than a child's marble ; and 
 tying them compactly together, he used to shoot them 
 through the shop doors as he Avalked by, and behind the 
 counters, Avhen a favorable opportunity offered ; Ave 
 have known him Avhen Avaiting at a railway station in- 
 sert them between the paper and the sugar loaf lying 
 there to be sent to a neighboring grocer ; a rent in the 
 paper affording a favorable opportunity ; and many a 
 poor gate-keeper upon the raihvays has received in the 
 Avhite shoAver Avhich flew towards him out of the Avindow 
 of the train as it flcAv by, gospel messengers able to save 
 the immortal soul. It is astonishing Avhat can be done 
 by practice. Our indefatigable friend attained to great 
 skill in shooting his tracts and gospel pellets ; in his 
 line, he did as well as many a member of a rifle corps, 
 making a good score upon coal Avagons, market bas- 
 kets, railway stations, and even through the hole of a 
 street lamp, Avhich the gasman had laid down for a 
 moment, as it Avanted some repairs. Wherever our friend 
 saAv any building going on, there he laid his tracts in the 
 laborers' hods, and under bricks and slates which were 
 sure to be moved. A new building Avas to him, much 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 267 
 
 what a preserve is to a sportsman ; eternity alone will 
 tell the effect of what was found under the bricks. 
 There are at the present moment some of our friend's 
 tracts under hedge-side stones^ which he does not expect 
 to be found for some years ; then he expects them to 
 ^ find/ as well as to ^ be found.' 
 
 Surely we have no readers who are too timid to drop 
 a tract upon the road ; perhaps some one says, but 
 may be some one will pick it up and run after us 
 Well ! even if any one did, that would not hurt you ; 
 but we make every allowance for nerves ; only we must 
 not forget that nerves can be sent to school, and that if 
 we begin at the alphabet of work, we may soon go on to 
 something better. Let such a one begin to throw a 
 tract when no one is in sight ; then, when some one is 
 coming on from a long distance ; then, Avhen some one is 
 near ; and so on ; our friend in earnest, though feeble, 
 will improve each day, and at last arrive at sufficient 
 boldness to be able to get out, May I beg your ac- 
 ceptance of this !" 
 
 minister was entertaining at his table another 
 zealous minister of God, a young man, now very useful 
 in France. He was desirous of knowing how his young 
 friend had been led to Christ, as he had said that both 
 his feelings and studies had kept him, for many years, 
 far from the way of peace. ^ The first impression made 
 on my soul,' said the young minister, ^ was, under God's 
 grace, the effect of a small tract which I picked up from 
 the highway side, near the village of Faong, in the Can- 
 ton of Vaud, when I was returning from Germany.' 
 ^ Did that happen,' asked the master of the house, ^ in 
 1826, and in the last week of October ?' ^ Precisely,' 
 
268 
 
 THE '‘I AVILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 answered the minister^ with astonishment ; ^ how do you 
 know it ?' ‘ Pray^ Avere you dressed in a common trav- 
 
 elling garh, Avith a knapsack on your shoulders^ and a 
 Avhite cap ?' ^ Such was^ indeed, my dress ; but, again, 
 how do you know it ?’ ^ It Avas perhaps, also, that tract 
 entitled ^ L'epi Glane sur la Grande Eoute ?' ^ It Avas 
 
 really : but I beg you to explain how / ^ I will tell 
 
 you, dear brother," said the minister. ^ I remember dis- 
 tinctly that at the foot of Faong hill, that very year, and 
 the very Aveek you speak of, as I was returning from 
 Berne, I placed purposely, and with a prayer, the ve^y 
 tract mentioned, on the left side of the road, hoping that 
 a young man, Avhom I saw coming at some distance, 
 Avould find it, and receive a benefit from it. And I 
 remember that, as I was on the top of the ascent, I 
 looked back, and saw the traveller bending, taking, and 
 immediately reading the tract, and that I jirayed again 
 to the Lord, that he Avould bless the reading." ^ Won- 
 derful !" exclaimed the young man. ^How good is our 
 Lord Avho prepared for us these spiritual ties ; who has 
 been pleased to show me my first unknown benefactor, 
 and to encourage us to cast our bread upon the 
 waters !"" 
 
 It is very true that if you pull out a little paper and 
 olfer some of its contents to your neighbor opposite you 
 in the raihvay carriage, he will perhaps smile benig- 
 nantly at you, if it contain sandwiches ; and scoavI 
 unutterable things, if it contain divine truths ; but re- 
 member, that Avhere some refuse, some also take ; and 
 there is truth in what a tract distributor said, when he 
 remarked, that if you offered tracts to people in a kind, 
 and frank, above-board way, they seldom or never in- 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 269 
 
 suited you ; but that people don^t like tracts being given 
 to them as though the person giving them, were half 
 ashamed of them himself. When a man has a genuine 
 good article to dispose of, he is not ashamed of it ; wo 
 know what we have to dispose of, even though it be by 
 giving away, let us not be ashamed of it, as though it 
 were some j)inchbeck thing of little worth. 
 
 And here we may be permitted to express a wish 
 that tracts were got up in a more attractive form than 
 they often are ; many a one will take a little book who 
 will not take a tract ; we also wish that where it can be 
 conveniently dispensed with, tracts did not bear upon 
 their very forehead their number and series. Wo 
 believe that they would be much more likely to be 
 effective if they came as isolated messengers, each com- 
 plete in itself ; many a man who gets hold of a tract 
 marked, Large Type Series, No. 8,'' or Tracts to the 
 Unconverted, No. 2,'' or Wayside Leaves, No. 3 /' or 
 some such inscription, feels that he is the victim of a 
 system ; he is not being grappled by a truth, or talked 
 with by a friend ; but he is being operated on by a 
 system, and that he does not like. 
 
 Even hanging up a religious almanac may catch a 
 soul. A question having arisen in a mess kitchen of 
 the London police as to the date of some event, one of the 
 men went to look at the almanac, but instead of answer- 
 ing the question, he by mistake read the text for the day. 
 Its applicability struck some of them. It was talked 
 about, and for a long time after some one was sure to call 
 out at dinner time, ^ What does the almanac say to-day ?' 
 The man in charge of the kitchen read the text. This 
 often led to serious conversation, and eventually produced 
 
270 
 
 THE “I WILL'’ OF SERVICE. 
 
 quite u reformation in the kitchen. So the almanac text 
 proved a word in season.'" 
 
 It may seem unnecessary to speak here of sermons as 
 gospel nets^ to fish souls for heaven ; partly because so 
 few of our readers can fish in this way, and partly be- 
 cause the matter seems so self-evident. But alas ! this 
 great net is by no means as successful as it ought to bo. 
 The meshes of many a sermon are so wide that the fish 
 can swim through them ; the preacher is so vague and 
 undefined that he misses laying hold of souls. This is 
 the case even in the language that is used, especially 
 where the knowledge of theological terms is assumed. 
 On this subject Cecil spoke earnestly to Daniel Wilson, 
 when he entered on his curacy. 
 
 I particularly wish you would study hard to prepare 
 yourself for this place. It is not enough that a man has 
 good intentions. He needs also capacity, knowledge, 
 aptitude, all which, you know, are greatly imj)roved by 
 study ; and study itself much depends on method. 
 
 How, then, for the method. Go amongst the poorest 
 and most illiterate of the people where you dwell, and 
 let your subject of discourse to them be the solar sys- 
 tem. Endeavor with great plainness to defend Copernicus 
 against Tycho ; and make them thoroughly understand 
 the difference and the superiority. Don't let one depart, 
 until he is fully convinced that the sun must be placed 
 in the centre. ^ Stop,' say you, ^ I shall never be able to 
 make them understand my very terms.' Ho Then 
 invent new ones adapted to their capacity ; for much 
 easier is it to give people right notions of the solar 
 system than of the gospel ; and far more willing will 
 they be to let the sun stand in his place there than here. 
 
THE “I WILL- OF SERVICE. 
 
 271 
 
 Pray, therefore, study hard : and in a way a college 
 never teaches.'' 
 
 It is a great mistake to give even educated congrega- 
 tions absolute credit for a knowledge of such common 
 terms as ^^justification" and sanctification." It is easy 
 to paraphrase these words, without any injury to com- 
 position ; and if any of our readers he in the ministry, 
 and will only try how many of their congregations un- 
 derstand these terms, they will, we are sure, see the 
 need of keeping the explanation of them continually 
 before their people. 
 
 It was the boast of the late Daniel O'Connell that he 
 could drive a coach and four through any act of parlia- 
 ment that had ever been framed ; it may be boasted by 
 many congregations that they can go in and out through 
 the sermons they hear ; the minister does not lay hold 
 of anyone, indeed he would be rather startled if he did. 
 Alas ! how many ministers there are, who would be 
 amazed if some of their parishioners called upon them, 
 roused and startled by what they had heard from them 
 the previous day. Such would be almost as frightened 
 and flurried themselves, as their visitors are — they would 
 say to themselves, What could I have said to make all 
 this disturbance ? I'm sure, I did not mean to agitate 
 any one" — the fact is, the sermon was never meant to 
 rouse any one, and if the minister knew that it had such 
 explosive powers, he would have damped it down a little, 
 because he has a bad opinion of excitement in religion. 
 Preachers should ever have a fixed design in preaching ; 
 aimless preaching will leave little result ; they should 
 say to themselves, what exactly have I tried to do to- 
 day : did I aim at rousing, restoring, or building up a 
 
272 
 
 THE '‘I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 soul In order successfully to make this sermon net, we 
 must make the meshes close ; and in order to use it, we 
 must entirely forget self, in our earnest effort after what 
 we can catch. What should we think of a man whoso 
 main anxiety was to shew himself to the fish, and not to 
 pull in the fish themselves. We should think him mad ; 
 hut he would not he a whit more mad than the minister 
 who tries to get men to think of him, when he should be 
 exerting himself to secure them.'\ And what should we 
 think of a fisherman who purposely made his meshes so 
 wide that the fish could swim through, or who did not 
 carefully close up every rent, so that none could possibly 
 escape ? Soul arresting, soul catching preaching, is what 
 we want. Let not the fishers of men he afraid of preach- 
 ing a full law against impenitent sinners, and a full 
 gospel for all penitent ones ; let them show men their 
 
 * The following answer might, alas ! be only too truly given in the 
 present clay. Dr. Sheldon, Archbishop of Canterbury, in IGTS, on an 
 occasion when Betterton, the celebrated actor, was dining with him, 
 said, “Pray, Mr. Betterton, inform me what is the reason you actors on 
 the stage can affect your audience by speaking of things imaginary?” 
 “Why, my Lord,” replied Betterton, “with submission to your 
 Grace, the reason is very plain : all lies in the power of enthusiasm. 
 We actors on the stage speak of things imaginary as if they were real, 
 and you in the pulpit speak coldly of things real as if they were 
 imaginary.” 
 
 When the courtly Ridley complained of the llttlo effect produced by 
 his sermons, old father Latimer told him that the fault lay in his not 
 speaking the market language, i. 6 ., what was understood by the people. 
 
 •j* Such men sometimes come to grief. A story is told of a young min- 
 ister, who ascended the pulpit full of self-possession and vanity, but, hav- 
 ing been left to his own strength, quitted it humbled and hanging down 
 his head, upon which an old woman whispered to him, “ Ah, sir, if you 
 had gone up into the pulpit as you came down, you might have come 
 down as you went up.” 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 273 
 
 need of a physician, as well as the fact that the physician 
 is at hand. Old Eobert Flockart, who used to preach 
 almost nightly in the streets of Edinburgh, and who was 
 a persevering fisher of men, gives good advice to many 
 preachers in this matter. You never,"" said he, saw a 
 woman sewing without a needle ! She would come but 
 poor speed if she only sewed wi" the thread. So, I 
 think, when we"re dealing wi" sinners we maun aye put 
 in the needle o" the law first ; for the fact is, they"re 
 sleepin" sound, and they need to be awakened up wi" 
 something sharp. But when we"ve got the needle o" the 
 law fairly in, we may draw as lang a thread as you like 
 o" gospel consolation after it."" There"s many a man, who 
 has clean made his escape from the ministry, because 
 there was no law meshes to catch him. The gospel 
 must be preached as all in all, but the gospel as made 
 an imperative necessity by the law. It is a sense of the 
 power of the law that makes a man need the knowledge 
 and power of the gospel. Take care, fisherman, that thy 
 net be made of right materials, and woven with a close 
 mesh, otherwise thy labor may be great, and yet thy 
 fish be few. 
 
 And here it will be well to say a word or two upon 
 the important subject of mending our nets. 
 
 We find in all earthly toil that no inconsiderable 
 amount of time has been spent in repairing the imple- 
 ments by which it is carried on. The mower spends one 
 half his time in sharpening his scythe ; the carpenter 
 has often to stop to grind or sharpen his tools ; the 
 fisherman has to spend no little attention upon mending 
 his nets. And as it is with them in their earthly, so is 
 it with God"s people in the spiritual toil ; there is much 
 
 12 ^ 
 
274 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SERYICE. 
 
 to be done as it were in private^ which if left undone, 
 will cause the actual hours of toil to be without profit. 
 
 This is a point to which the attention of ministers 
 might be profitably called in the present day. One of 
 the chief characteristics of the present day is energy, 
 action ; ministers are compelled to head many parochial 
 movements, to be up and doing in the various fields of 
 charity and labor. To be here, there, and everywhere 
 at one and the same time, is their duty, in the minds of 
 unthinking, though perhaps pious and zealous men. The 
 idea of working'' a parish is a good one in itself^ but it 
 may, if carried too far, be productive of serious evil. 
 And it is productive of evil, when ministers are always 
 on their legs, and seldom on their knees ; many times in 
 the pulpit, few times in the study ; continually talking, 
 and not often thinking ; always giving out, and seldom 
 taking in ; what can we expect but that they become 
 blunt, like unsharpened tools, and ineffective, like un- 
 mended nets ? A minister requires repairs as well as 
 anybody, or anything else ; the candle that is burnt at 
 both ends, soon burns out. 
 
 But how shall we all mend our nets ? most of this 
 work is to be done upon our knees ; the most tattered 
 net can be made as good as new, if only we repair it on 
 our knees. There, upon the knees, we get skill to piece 
 in the old rent, and perhaps that piece will, when the net 
 is next tried, turn out to be the strongest piece of all. 
 We mend our nets also over our Bibles. Prepared work 
 is generally effective work ; we must not say of our 
 materials Anything will do." We mend them also by 
 thoughtfulness over our miscarriages. It is by thinking 
 over our faults, weaknesses, and failures, that we discern 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 275 
 
 the flaws in our net ; close them all up ; and learn to 
 avoid the like again. The time thus spent is well spent ; 
 for where this is neglected, then the more haste, the 
 worse speed.'' Let us think as well as act ; pray as well 
 as preach ; prepare as well as work ; the knees should 
 prepare the way for the lips ; the study should be the 
 threshold of the pulpit ; the net must be mended in 
 quiet on shore, then it will stand the turmoil of the deep. 
 Jesus Himself was much in prayer, and much alone ; 
 even in this respect his words hold good, Follow Me, 
 and I will make you fishers of men." 
 
 Those are weighty words of Cecil's. I say every- 
 where and to all, you must hold intercourse with God, or 
 your soul will die. You must walk with God, or Satan 
 will walk with you. You must grow in grace, or you 
 will lose it ; and you cannot do this but by appropriating 
 to this object a due portion of your time, and diligently 
 employing suitable means. I know not how it is," said 
 he, ^Hhat some Christians can make so little of recol- 
 lection and retirement. I find the spirit of the world 
 a strong assimilating principle. I find it hurrying my 
 mind away in its vortex, and sinking me among the 
 dregs and filth of a carnal nature. Even my ministerial 
 employments would degenerate into a mere following of 
 my trade, and crying of my wares. I am obliged to 
 withdraw myself regularly, and to say to my heart, 
 ^ What are you doing ? Where are you ?' " 
 
 How can we more fitly close up this chapter than by 
 saying somewhat of the Eeward of the Fishers. 
 
 There is a great variety and multitude of fish to be 
 caught; ^^all sorts and conditions of men" lie before the 
 
276 
 
 THE WILL” OF SEllVICE. 
 
 fisherS; to draw out from among them souls for Christ's 
 glory and their own reward. Yes ! look where w^e 
 will, we see fishers for the fisher’s net. 
 
 Where will you cast your net ? Down, deep into the 
 dark abyss of vice, amid the almost unnameable outcasts 
 of our race Yes! there can be enclosed fishes for 
 Christ, and thence can they be drawn, to increase for 
 ever the wealth and glory of the fisher’s joy. Courage, 
 fishers in these deep dark waters ! the records of the 
 church are full of the experience of successful fishers 
 who have drawn forth these wonders of the deep. Even 
 though you may have toiled all night and caught 
 nothing,” nevertheless, at Christ’s word let down your net 
 for a draught, and you shall meet with great success. 
 Who knows but that one rescued from such depths may 
 be a mightier prey from the deep than many who swam 
 as it were in shoals hard by the gospel net ? Let none 
 persuade you, who are giving or working on behalf of 
 these fallen ones, that because some fall back, none are 
 saved ; oh yes, they are ; and from the harps of the 
 redeemed there will be struck by their hands hereafter, 
 perhaps some of their most wondrous tones ; forgiven 
 much, they love much ; and their songs of praise have 
 caught the tones of Him, who through our ministry 
 spake to them in their sorrow, sin, and shame ; and 
 said, Neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more.” 
 
 Where will you cast your net ? Amid the vast 
 multitude of fishes, and myriad shoals wdiich gleam and 
 glitter in the rippling waters, like silver spangles cast in 
 lavish handfuls into the rising tide of life — amid the 
 little children — those concerning whom the Saviour said. 
 
 Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid 
 
THE ‘‘I WILL” OF SERVICE. 
 
 277 
 
 them not^ for of such is the kingdom of heaven Oh ! 
 God speed the fishers ; there are great hauls for heaven 
 to be made in these teeming waters. Little does it 
 matter whether these children be raggedy destitute^ and 
 forlorn ; little, that they be ill-taught, ill-tended, and 
 ill-fed ; they have that within them which is of amazing 
 price ; and lo ! they are waiting as it were to be caught ; 
 and if you shoot wide your net — your close-meshed net 
 — and encircle them for Christ, and draw them to shore 
 for Him ; oh ! then shall you see how bright is your 
 spoil ; how well you are repaid. Myriads of children 
 shall doubtless be in the land of light, but amid those 
 myriads yours shall not be lost ; that which you have 
 drawn forth from the deep for Christ shall be yours as 
 well as Christ's — His first, then yours ; for your labor 
 shall not be in vain in the Lord. 
 
 Header ! vast depths teeming with life lie before 
 thee ; cast thine hook, or shoot thy net into some of 
 them for Christ ; if thou hast followed Him, it must be 
 to become a fisher of men. Fear not that exertions, or 
 money, or infiuence, will be ill-spent. The Lord's word 
 shall not return to Him void. How knowest thou, what 
 thou shalt catch ? For aught that thou canst tell, thou 
 mayest bring to Christ some one who may consecrate a 
 great intellect, or great devotedness to His service. The 
 first young man reclaimed by a city missionary's instru- 
 mentality, from a very degraded and vicious life, after 
 spending several years in efforts to reclaim others, in 
 which he was much blessed, became a town missionary, 
 continued such for nine years, till his death, and was 
 followed to the grave by between 2000 and 3000 of 
 those he had visited, although numbers of them were 
 
278 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF SERVICE. 
 
 without shoes, and the snow at the time was ankle-deep 
 on the ground. His indeed was a funeral at once hum- 
 ble and yet noble, simple and yet grand ; instead of 
 waving plumes, he had palpitating hearts ; instead of 
 hired attendants, he had personal mourners ; instead of 
 the wailing note of the cornet, and the boom of the 
 muffled drum, he had the cry of the sorrowing child, and 
 the sob of the stalwart man. No mourning coaches, 
 draped in black, ever left such a track behind them as 
 did the falls of the swollen, shoeless, livid feet of that 
 motley crowd in the yielding snow ; no marble tablet 
 ever had recorded upon its fair white surface such a 
 memorial as that snow had upon its downy breast ! 
 True ! the first bright sun dispelled those foot-prints 
 with his beams, (what need was there that they should 
 tarry on the earth ?) but the gratitude of which they 
 were a record was sculptured indelibly in heaven ; the 
 types might well be broken up, seeing that a stereotype 
 had been taken from them which could not be destroyed. 
 Far be it from me to decry the splendid offering of a 
 nation’s gratitude in the public obsequies of the noble, 
 the learned, or the brave ; but when the time comes for 
 me to be borne to my last home, let me not be followed 
 by all the pomp and circumstances of woe, but by a 
 sorrowing crowd like this ; let me be laid in the earth, 
 by those with whom I have affinities for heaven. Let 
 my fellows’ last farewell to me, be not the thundering of 
 cannon, and the proclamation of the style and title of 
 the deceased, but a silent look down into the grave, 
 saying, We part with grief on earth and then a 
 silent look upwards to the sky, saying, We shall meet 
 with joy in heaven !” 
 
" I Mill " of tfomfort. 
 
 John xiv. 18. 
 
John xiv. 18. 
 
 •• I will not leave you comfortless : [or, orphans.] I will come to you.” 
 
 « EEE we have an will not/' and an 
 
 will/' in close and signficant conjunction. 
 The one admits us into what we might call 
 the negative^ and the other into the positive 
 side of Christ's love ; the first gives us His knowledge, 
 feeling, responsibility, &c., with regard to His people ; 
 and the second, the activity of His love. He will not 
 leave them orphans. He will come unto them. 
 
 Eeader, if you have become a disciple of Christ, 
 peruse these pages, with reference to yourself, as well as 
 those to whom the words we are now about to consider, 
 were originally spoken. He who knows anything of the 
 needs of the divine life will lay hold of such a promise 
 as this, and take it in all its full teaching to himself. 
 
 And first, let us consider for awhile these blessed 
 words. 
 
 I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU COMFORTLESS," or orphaned. 
 Look at the prospect that lay before the disciples ; 
 
282 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 whichever way we turn^ it was a comfortless one ; the 
 loss of Christ was the loss of all — the loss of their 
 head — the subtraction of the great object of life — ^the 
 bereavement of themselves, so that they must be left in 
 a condition of orphanage, with all the evils consequent on 
 that helpless state. Jesus made a provision for all this 
 gloomy prospect, when He promised that He would not 
 leave them orphaned. 
 
 What a fearful loss would Christ have been to His 
 disciples, had He gone away never to return any more. 
 He was the head of this little family ; to Him they had 
 been accustomed to look up as Teacher, Lord, and All in 
 all ; in all their ignorance He was their advisor, in all 
 their difficulties He was their helper ; and although 
 they were no doubt much to each other in holy brother- 
 hood, still their relationship to each other was founded 
 upon their common relationship to Him. Let Jesus be 
 severed from them, let their bond with Him be broken 
 up, and there remained nothing to bind them to each 
 other. Oh ! how sorely we miss the earthly head of a 
 family, when he or she has filled up the headship in the 
 way which God designed ; we never know what such a 
 head is to us, until it is lost ; then, when the great void 
 is made, and there is no one to look to for counsel, no 
 one for action, when we are thown back upon our own 
 resources, then we feel what it is really to be left alone, 
 
 Jesus knew well what would be the condition of His 
 disciples if He left them thus headless ; well did He 
 know what He had been to them ; He knew this, far 
 better than they did ; and, acting out of his own knowl- 
 edge, He makes the promise, will not leave you 
 comfortless.'' Is it not a comfort to us, also, that Christ 
 
THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 283 
 
 acts towards us^ even as He did towards those^ His im- 
 mediate disciples^ out of His own knowledge. Jesus 
 foreknows all that lies before His people, under such and 
 such circumstances, and makes provision accordingly ; it 
 is as though Christ said, I know what would happen 
 if I were to leave you, do not fear, I will not hand you 
 over to ruin.'" 
 
 Eight thankful ought we to be, dear reader, that 
 Jesus knows so much better than we do ourselves, what 
 He is to us. We grow gradually into the knowledge of 
 His headship, into the deep feeling of our own need of 
 it ; but He starts as it were with that knowle*dge, and 
 He acts upon it, and is often acting in the power of 
 His headship, when we are coming sadly short of acting 
 in the power of our membership. 
 
 And it will not be amiss to pause for a moment, and 
 ask ourselves, whether Christ be indeed our head ; 
 whether we feel Him in that relationship to us ; whether, 
 if He were removed, we should not altogether go to pieces. 
 Are we amongst those who would sorely miss Christ if 
 He were to withdraw Himself and be gone ? If we be, 
 then we have this great comfort — Christ's knowledge 
 always overpasses ours. He knows what He is to us, 
 even more than we can know ; and if we shudder at 
 the thought of being left — ^left headless — our feeling 
 about the matter is nothing compared with His. 
 
 But there was another very important point in which 
 the disciples would have been left comfortless, had Jesus 
 wholly departed from them ; such a departure would 
 have involved the subtraction of the great object of their 
 life ; the apostles must have been left aimless, objectless 
 men. Christ had been the one prominent figure before 
 
284 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 them for many a long day ; with Him they journeyed, 
 with Him they rested ; with Him they lived and moved 
 and had their being, and every hope and thought were 
 centred in Him. Mistaken though they were, about 
 the immediate restoration of the kingdom of Israel, and 
 their own consequent exaltation ; still everything was 
 connected with their great Master ; and so to take Him 
 away was to take all. Now we ourselves, perhaps, 
 know in some measure, what it is to have a great 
 object in life removed. Here is one who has planned, 
 and laid out, and built for another, and now that other 
 is gone, and the flower beds are colorless and scentless 
 to him, and the rooms echo gloomily to the solitary foot- 
 fall, and where every minute thing used to be of interest, 
 now alas ! everything oppresses ; for the object for which 
 all these things were, is gone. There is always some one 
 object which is the mainspring of life ; and when that 
 is removed, the wheels stand still. The aimless, object- 
 less man is generally a misery to himself. 
 
 Now Christ foreknew what would be the misery of 
 His disciples, thus left objectless in life. He knew that 
 their nets could never be to them what they had been 
 before, and that the receipt of custom had lost its ex- 
 clusive charms ; He knew, moreover, that it was He 
 who had displaced these, as life’s great object, substituting 
 Himself in their place ; and now, if He went away for 
 ever, what remained for them but an aimless life and 
 a miserable death. We cannot imagine Christ’s calmly 
 contemplating this, without making provision for it. 
 And all true-hearted disciples are very much in the 
 position of those to whom our Lord here speaks. Jesus 
 has become to them the great object in life ; I do not say 
 
THE “I WILL” OF COMFOBT. 
 
 285 
 
 V 
 
 that He has taken away all life's interests, or that He 
 has diminished the fondness of righteous affections, but 
 He has placed Himself above them all, substituting 
 Himself for whatever ruled the heart, and becoming 
 THE object of that heart's affection, and that mind's 
 thought, so that they which live should not hence- 
 forth live unto themselves, but unto Him which died 
 for them and rose again 2 Cor. v. 15. 
 
 Should these pages fall into the hands of any young 
 persons who fear that joining Christ in true discipleship 
 involves great loss in the way of earthly interests, I 
 would affectionately remind them that Christ has effec- 
 tually provided for this by substitution. He ever gives 
 more than He takes ; it is a fixed rule of the divine 
 life, that none shall be a loser by Him. It is because 
 they are ignorant of this substitution, that many are 
 afraid of union with J esus ; nature abhors a vacuum, 
 and they think only of what they shall lose, unmindful 
 of what they shall gain. Just as the husband substi- 
 tutes himself, and all his interests, and concerns, for the 
 acquaintances and pursuits of unmarried life ; and as 
 this is no loss but a gain — a gain — when the husband 
 is worth loving, so Christ substitutes Himself and all 
 His interests, and concerns, for that which formerly ab- 
 sorbed the heart ; and when He does this, it must be to 
 our gain. Now, the very fact of Christ's doing this is in 
 itself an argument against His so departing from His 
 people, as to leave them comfortless ; deliberately to 
 make Himself all this to the soul, and then deliberately 
 to go away, would be cruelty indeed ; we are slow in 
 raising expectations which we are not certain of being 
 able to answer ; shall Christ bo less thouglitful than we ? 
 
286 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 Not SO. He substitutes Himself, the imperishable One, 
 for all that passeth away. He gives Himself to His peo- 
 pleasHeis, ^Hhe same yesterday, and to-day, and forever."" 
 
 Did not the blessed Lord Jesus Christ see also the 
 helpless condition of His disciples if He left them alone 
 in the world, to return to them no more ? We know 
 that none are so helpless as the orphan : all the little 
 needs of daily life are seldom thought of by any save a 
 parents head, all the little sorrows of life are but feebly 
 felt for except by a parent"s heart ; and thus helpless 
 must the disciples have been, if their connection with 
 Christ were now to be broken off by death. For who in 
 the world could supply their need, even supposing that 
 need were known ? The wants of the disciples were 
 such as the world had no stores to meet ; and this Jesus 
 knew ; the aspect of a friendless, helpless family was 
 that which met His view, if His people were permanently 
 despoiled of Him. This is the picture which a deserted 
 l^eople present even now to Jesus ; this picture He will 
 never allow to become a reality, in the case of even the 
 weakest, and most friendless, of those who have cast in 
 their lot with Him. Be not afraid, dear reader, of ever 
 becoming a poor forlorn creature, if you embrace Christ; 
 friends, perhaps, threaten to desert, you may feel that 
 even in your own family circle you must stand alone ; 
 Satan may work this thought in your mind, and say, 
 ^ How can you ever stand such a trial as this our 
 answer is that of the apostle, I can do all things, 
 through Christ which strengtheneth me ;"" it is this, ^ We 
 take the promise of Jesus to ourselves, we are His disciples; 
 His promise is to us also, as well as to the apostles, 
 I will not leave you comfortless, I will come to you." 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF COMFORT. 
 
 287 
 
 Now let us look at this dreary prospect of orphaned 
 disciples^ in relation to the Lord Jesus Qhrist person- 
 ally. 
 
 Their Master was, if we might so speak, hound to 
 take care of them, as He had influenced them to give up 
 all for Him. We are ready to grant that that all'^ 
 was very little ; still it was all to them ; and God 
 looks at all things relatively, as well as absolutely ; Ho 
 estimates that which is given according to the capacity 
 of the one who gives. It is a very comforting thought 
 that God looks at things in this light : that He puts 
 His own and not man's value upon the two mites ; 
 that He knows our feelings, and what it may cost us 
 to do, or give, or give up, any thing for Him. 
 
 Whoever makes any sacrifice for Christ, comes forth- 
 with into relation with Him in reference to that sacri- 
 fice ; Jesus puts Himself in the place of all that we 
 have given up ; we have ventured in obedience to His 
 word ; it would be a horrible scandal throughout eter- 
 nity, if any could point out a man who had been a loser 
 by Christ. Christ will not disavow the consequences 
 of the great act, by which we gave up all for Him ; He 
 will never say, Your act was right, these are only the 
 natural consequences of it, I have nothing to do with 
 them oh no ! Christ links Himself to the conse- 
 quences of the great act, even as He is unalterably 
 linked to the act itself. Whenever we can clearly trace 
 a connection between our suffering, and the One for 
 whom we suffer, we may always rest assured, that that 
 One will never leave us nor forsake us. 
 
 And, surely, it has been the experience of God's peo- 
 ple, that Jesus has amply made up to them for any 
 
288 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 thing that they have given up for Him. Hewitson gave 
 np every earthly prospect for Christ — the worlds and the 
 things of the world ; and what was his testimony ? I 
 never have a moment's peace, when I return in the 
 slightest degree to conformity with the world ; hut I 
 always have great peace when my soul returns home to 
 its ^ city of refuge/ the Lord Jesus Christ. Communion 
 with Christ is the only source of satisfying, the only 
 source of lasting enjoyment. I have enjoyed even more, 
 this morning, from beholding the loveliness and glory of 
 Christ, as revealed to me by the Spirit, than I have from 
 the world, during the whole of my life past." And in 
 one of his letters to a college friend, he gives such a 
 plain testimony to the all-sufficiency of Jesus, as a sup- 
 plier of any void that is made for His sake, that we shall 
 insert it here. Do you recollect," writes he, what 
 converse we often had together at on religious sub- 
 
 jects ? That converse was pleasant to me, and yet pain- 
 ful, for I was seeking Jesus then, but I had not found 
 Him. I was too ambitious of human honor, too fond of 
 the world, to seek any thing else in J esus, than a deliv- 
 erer from the guilt of sin. I did not hate sin itself — I did 
 not seek Jesus that I might be delivered from the power 
 and dominion of sin. There was a vehement controversy 
 between the Holy Spirit, and my carnal nature in those 
 days ! He often drew me with loving kindness, but my 
 neck was an iron sinew, and I still willingly lay in chains 
 of darkness, a slave to the beggarly elements of this 
 world's enjoyments. I did not lay to heart these words of 
 J esus, ^ How can ye believe, who receive honor one of an- 
 other, and seek not the honor that cometh from God 
 only ?' I sought to believe, but the pursuit, or rather 
 
THE ‘‘I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 289 
 
 the thirst of worldly honor made faith impossible. Glad 
 enough I would have been^ if I could have followed 
 Jesus, without being obliged to deny myself, and to take 
 up the cross. I was laboring under a strange delusion, 
 for I did not know that if only I were willing to leave 
 all and follow Christ, He would make the cross not 
 heavy to be borne, but a delight, more pleasant than to 
 the miser is his load of gold, or to the earthly monarch 
 are his insignia of power. I did not know what these 
 words meant, ^ My yoke is easy and My burden is light." 
 Now I understand, that if we only be willing to give up 
 all for Christ, He is willing to give us more happiness, 
 ten thousand fold, than we give up for His sake.""’"* 
 
 J esus amply made up to Hewitson for all he gave up 
 for Him. 
 
 Out of 365 religions in the world,"" said a highly 
 educated Jew one day to his beloved child, an accom- 
 plished and lovely girl of nineteen, as she was urging 
 upon him the Avonderful graciousness of that Divine 
 Saviour whom she had found in the crucified Nazarene, 
 I don"t think yours the easiest ; people haA^e to Avork 
 so hard, and be so distressingly earnest and so awfully 
 solemn ; it makes me ill to think of it."" Ah !"" re- 
 plied the youthful convert, this religion is a very 
 happy and a very easy one. I have an inAvard peace and 
 joy which is unspeakable. Jesus is precious ; He is in 
 heaven ; He blesses me every moment. Oh ! his bound- 
 less love to me !""f 
 
 J esus amply made up to this girl for every thing she 
 had to give up for Him ! 
 
 * “Memoir of Rev. W. H. Hewitson,’ p. 55. 
 f See “ Memoirs of Adelaide Newton.” 
 
 13 
 
290 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF COMFOET. 
 
 The truth is, the love of Christ as realized, is in 
 itself an immense compensation for all we have to give 
 up ; yes, more than this, it has an expulsive power, so 
 that it and the world cannot consort together ; and 
 hence we should always seek to win the young to give 
 up the world, not by imposing upon them a system of 
 prohibitions, but by bringing them into personal con- 
 tact with Christ, by showing them that Jesus will be 
 better to them than all beside ; that He will never al- 
 low them to say, The old way was better ; my new 
 pursuit is a failure ; J esus is not as good as the world/" 
 I cannot help thinking,"" writes Adelaide Newton to 
 a school-fellow, that if you are much occupied with 
 thoughts of heaven, of holiness, of the meek and lowly 
 Jesus, and how he lived and walked on earth, you will 
 feel a secret shrinking from worldly society, which will 
 make balls, etc., very painful to you. God has left no 
 positive commands upon things of this sort, for He 
 knows that where the heart is given to Him, the life 
 will assuredly be given too. And the motive of gospel 
 obedience is not so much duty, as love. The child that 
 loves its parents devotedly, or its friends, does what 
 will please them at any cost."" 
 
 This witness is true ; the world is to be given up 
 because of love ; and that love supplies the great com- 
 pensation for the world, — Jesus substitutes Himself. 
 
 I can never be thankful enough,"" says Mr. Hawkes, 
 that I am not obliged to waste my time in visiting 
 and receiving visits. There was a season when I was 
 as fond of doing so as any one, but thanks be to my 
 gracious Saviour, who has given me a new taste, new 
 objects, new pursuits, new and true enjoyments. With 
 
THE I WILL ” OF COMFORT. 
 
 291 
 
 my books I never find the day long enough, and the 
 week is gone before I am ready for the end.'' 
 
 The time thus taken from the world was not given 
 up as a prey to ennui; the gracious Saviour was present 
 in the new tastes and new pursuits. Christ knows 
 what any one gives up for Him, and he knows also how 
 to fill the void. 
 
 We must also bear in mind, that Jesus knew what 
 would happen to these disciples, if they were left to 
 themselves ; they, the sheep, must be scattered abroad, 
 if He, the Shepherd, were permanently removed. Now 
 Jesus knew well what lay before His disciples in their 
 upivard and onward struggle — a struggle on which He 
 Himself had set them — a struggle for which they were 
 wholly incompetent apart from Him. From Him they 
 had received the mighty impulses of the new life ; from 
 Him, the visions of a noble future ; they, like others, 
 had through much tribulation to enter into the king- 
 dom of God : and which of them were, in themselves, 
 sufficient for these things ? They needed their leader 
 as well as their teacher, and Jesus would never leave 
 them unled. 
 
 Let us contemplate also the difficulty which these 
 disciples would have had in retaining their union with 
 Him. When He had been taken from them by an 
 ignominious death; when all the world hooted at them 
 as the followers of a dead malefactor, how could they, 
 by any mere force of natural character, have clung to 
 Him.^^ The trial would have been too much for human 
 nature ; it would have failed. In the religion of Christ 
 we have to cling not only to a system, but to an in- 
 dividual — not only to a creed, but to a man; and if the 
 
292 
 
 THE ‘a WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 person vfere wholly taken away from the disciples^ what 
 would have become of them ? 
 
 Now Jesus well knows the difficulties which beset 
 His j)eopl^ in retaining their union with Him ; He 
 knows also that the being linked to an abstraction — • 
 a system of truth — will never carry them whither He 
 would have them be; and so He provides for His per- 
 sonal union with us now. We retain our union in the 
 power of a personal attachment to a living Being per- 
 sonally attached to us. Christ is the vine and we are 
 the branches ; there must not only be vitality in us to 
 cling to Him, but there must be vitality in Him to 
 inject sap into us. 
 
 Remember then, dear reader, as you survey this 
 side of the subject, that separation from the world does 
 not involve a thoroughly orphaned or comfortless con- 
 dition. If you have broken off affinities with it, you 
 have become connected with higher affinities in Christ; 
 ye have meat to eat which the world knows not of. 
 We are told in Matt. ix. 25, that ^^when the people 
 were put forth. He went in and took her by the hand, 
 and the maid arose.'" How apt a picture is this of 
 what we are considering now ; the putting forth of 
 those who can do us no good ; the incoming of the One 
 who can. Only remember, that by our own fault we 
 may for a season be left comfortless ; we may hide out 
 our spiritual affinity with our Saviour ; we may not 
 see the One who lives for us, and still is ours, though 
 our eyes are so dimmed, that we know not He is 
 near. 
 
 Such a state of discomfort has ofttimes fallen upon 
 the people of God, but it is not Jesus who has left them 
 
THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 293 
 
 in it; it is they themselves who have gone into it. His 
 promise is unbroken^ though we are suffering from our 
 sin. Suffering, comfortless V Yes, happy is he who is 
 suffering and comfortless without his Lord, his cries and 
 griefs are a witness that he lives. The existence of life 
 may be manifested by a tear, as well as by a smile ; by 
 the voice of weeping, as well as by the voice of joy. 
 
 And now comes the promise of our Lord, will 
 come unto you,'" or as it is in the Greek, I am coming 
 to you," for He would be so short a time away, that 
 His future is as it were present. 
 
 What is this coming ? 
 
 Whatever other meanings may attach to this promise, 
 we must hold that the primary one has reference to His 
 personal appearance after the resurrection. The grief 
 of the disciples was connected with the departure of 
 their Lord ; and that grief was primarily to be dis- 
 pelled by His coming to them in person again. 
 
 We can easily understand how this reappearance of 
 their Lord would comfort their poor hearts. Now first, 
 the great loneliness would he done away, Dee^^th brings 
 v/ith it the most saddening loneliness which falls to the 
 lot of man ; and in proportion as we have allowed our- 
 selves to be bound up in a single object, in that propor- 
 tion comes the desolation of loneliness when that object 
 is removed. Now Jesus had been all to the disciples ; 
 and as we have already seen, when they lost Him, they 
 lost all ; when He returned, they got all back again. 
 
 And this suggests a solemn inquiry to us ; would the 
 loss or absence of Jesus cause the great loneliness in our 
 heart ? Have we so companied with Him, so been 
 
294 
 
 THE ‘a WILL” OF COMFOET. 
 
 willing to give up all for Hira^ so had Him as the 
 prominent object of our hearty that if He were taken 
 away our heart would be lonely indeed ? 
 
 If this be our condition, ours is the unspeakable 
 comfort of knowing, that we shall never have the long 
 loneliness which so often falls to the poor heart, whose 
 one absorbing object was some human love. We may 
 have a lesser loneliness ; we too may have to look upon 
 an empty chair, and to eat our morsel alone ; but the 
 great, the enduring loneliness of being eternally bereft 
 of Christ shall never fall to our lot. Lesser stars may 
 fall from their courses, yea, some of them of the first 
 magnitude as stars, but the Sun of righteousness, 
 which is the centre of our system, shall never be 
 removed. 
 
 For, be it remembered, that it is as an eternal 
 source of comfort that our Lord comes, Christ dieth 
 now no more. Death hath no more dominion over Him. 
 
 I am He that liveth, and was dead ; and, behold, I 
 am alive for evermore Eev. i. 18. 
 
 It was in resurrection life that Jesus would come ; a 
 life which they could understand; a life with which they 
 could have a connection, for J esus was to return to them 
 in a body again. It was in that body they saw Jesus 
 ascend to heaven; to His Father, and their Father; and 
 henceforth they had no more to do with a dead, but 
 with a living Christ. An eternal source of comfort had 
 thus come to the disciples ; a source with which death 
 could never again interfere, which nothing could break 
 or dry up any more. And thus is Jesus to His people 
 now aU eternal source of comfort ; we need never be 
 afraid that the world can take Him from us ; He is far 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF COMFORT. 
 
 295 
 
 beyond the world's reach. Here we outlive our com- 
 forts ; we see them fade and perish almost before our 
 very eyes^ but Christ holds out to the very end. 
 
 One stormy winter day, when Eev. Mr. Young Avas 
 visiting one of his people, an old man, who lived in 
 great poverty in a lonely cottage a few miles from 
 Jedburgh, he found him sitting with the Bible open on 
 his knees, but in outward circumstances of great dis- 
 comfort ; the snow drifting through the roof, and under 
 the door, and scarce any fire on the hearth. What are 
 you about to-day, John was Mr. Young's question on 
 entering. ^^Ah! sir," said the happy saint, I'm sitting 
 under His shadow in great delight!" The old man was 
 not left comfortless, the Saviour had come to him. And 
 so was He also with that other old man of the same 
 minister's congregation, who was hourly looking for his 
 last change. How do you feel yourself to-day asked 
 the minister. Very weel, sir," was the answer, ^S^ery 
 weel, but just a wee confused in ^ the flittin.' " Through 
 the last broken circumstances of life in the one case, 
 and on the point of death in the other, enduring even 
 unto the end, the source of comfort did not fail ! 
 
 And let us mark this inexpressible comfort, which 
 the disciples received by the returning of Jesus to them 
 again. They now had Him still to live for ; they had 
 the highest motive in life ; they need not slip back 
 again to living only for their earthly interests; He was 
 alive, and could be served, and pleased; the great object 
 of life was restored to them again. 
 
 This comfort belongs now to all true disciples of the 
 risen Saviour ; they have Him to live for, evermore ; 
 they need never slip back to the Avorld, to find objects 
 
296 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 of interest and attraction^ to win them to activity ; 
 Jesus lives ; His disciples must live for Him. 
 
 Yes^ /or Him. Shall we be willing to live in Him, 
 and hy Him, so as to derive all personal benefit from 
 Him, and shall Ave not be willing to live for Him also? 
 Why this listlessness, this ennui^ in many in the Christian 
 Avorld? Why this frequent slipping down to earthly 
 vanities, as though there were not enough in Christ 
 abundantly to draw out our highest energies ? It is 
 because men are not living in the power of a living 
 Christ — One, who has come unto them, and comforted 
 them, and shewn them that His connection with them is 
 unsevered, that they are serving a personal, living Lord. 
 
 Let us lay firm hold of this great idea ; we are not 
 merely fulfilling a law, we are serving a person; we are 
 not only under the obligations of duty, we arc also un- 
 der the constrainings of love; we are to live for the One 
 who is walking amid the seven golden candle-sticks, 
 and noting all that His people do. We should be ever 
 rising higher and higher, above the world as the sup- 
 plier of our objects of interest ; all the interests con- 
 nected with a dying world are perishing ; all connected 
 with a risen Christ are eternal. 
 
 As long as we realize that we have Christ to live for, 
 we shall never feel that all is lost, even when the worst 
 calamities and bereavements of life have fallen upon us. 
 We shall not want to hide ourselves with a grief which 
 devours us ; nor feel a morbid pleasure in being eaten 
 into by its corroding tooth. Oh ! we shall grieve if we 
 lose our dear ones ; we shall Aveep and feel lonely, and 
 Ave shall taste of that desolation Avhich sin by death has 
 brought into the world; but we shall also feel, that the 
 
THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 297 
 
 living Christ rises^ in His great claims^ above the dead 
 friend ; we shall go forth to our work^ it may be men of 
 sterner mould, hardened in the fires of sorrow against 
 the blandishments of the world ; but we shall not sur- 
 render ourselves a prey to aught that belongs to death, 
 for we shall feel that we have to answer the claims of a 
 living 'L oyA, We may have close to us the ashes of the 
 past, but we may nevertheless burn upon the earth with 
 a brilliant glow ; we also consuming in our service, and 
 dying daily while we live. 
 
 Having declared our belief, that whatever other 
 advents may be included in the will,'' which we are 
 considering ; this, the appearing of our Lord in His 
 resurrection body is the first and chief, and that indeed 
 upon which all else must hang, let us now turn to the 
 fulfillment of His promise, an account of which we have 
 given to us by St. Luke. The disciples are assembled 
 at Jerusalem — a company of troubled ones ; with them 
 things have been going hard indeed ; without are fight- 
 ings, and within are fears ; good cause have they for 
 trouble ; they were weak in faith ; their leader was 
 away ; they were half stupefied by all that had occurred ; 
 they had just gone through a terrible past ; before them 
 lay an unknown future ; they seem, inasmuch as some 
 of their company had walked with the One that had 
 been crucified, to have come into awful proximity to the 
 mysteries beyond the grave ; the one cure for all their 
 sorrow was Christ's manifestation to them, as their own 
 Christ, once more ; and so. He stands in the midst of 
 them, and says unto them Peace be unto you and 
 when they are terrified and affrighted, supposing that 
 
 13 * 
 
298 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 they had seen a spirit^ He says untothem^ Why are ye 
 troubled, and why do thoughts arise in your hearts ? 
 Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself ; 
 handle me, and see ; for a spirit hath not flesh and 
 bones, as ye see me have. And when he had thus 
 spoken, He showed them His hands and His feet. And 
 while they yet believed not for joy, and wondered. He 
 said unto them, have ye here any meat ? And they 
 gave Him a piece of a broiled flsh, and of an honeycomb. 
 And He took it, and did eat before them Luke xxiv. 
 38—43. 
 
 Christ's manifestation of Himself is the great 
 
 CURE FOR THE TROUBLED SOUL. 
 
 Think, 0 wounded heart, on this great truth ; think 
 it into thy very being ; it is a simple, but withal a 
 mighty truth ; it is a truth that will save thee a world 
 of trouble in inquiring How am I to be comforted 
 Thou art to be comforted by Christ's manifesting Him- 
 self with special plainness to thee ; by His saying. 
 
 Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself ; 
 handle me and see." 
 
 But let us see what we can gather for ourselves from 
 the sorrows of the disciples, and from the manifestation 
 of their Lord. 
 
 We see that troubles may come on those who have 
 compa7iied long with Christ, It is true that the disciples, 
 though farther advanced than any upon earth, were as 
 yet but little advanced in real knowledge of their Lord; 
 but still they had been long with Him, and he Himself 
 acknowledges this : for He says, Ye are they which 
 have continued with me in my temptations Luke xxii. 
 28. Upon these old companions and followers of Jesus 
 
THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 299 
 
 deep trouble bad now come. It may be that we think 
 that we are to be exempt from all trouble^ because we 
 have been long followers of Jesus Christ ; but^ perhaps^ 
 we are like these disciples^ long following, and yet but 
 little advanced ; if this be the case, we shall have all the 
 spiritual disquietude and sorrow which are incidental to 
 those who have to face trial in such a state. But we 
 must not on this account, allow ourselves to think, that 
 we have not been followers of Christ at all ; we may be 
 true disciples, yea, even old disciples of Jesus, and yet 
 be very deficient, Have I been so long time with you, 
 and yet hast thou not known me, Philip John xiv. 9. 
 The Evil One will draw no distinction between a man's 
 being a weak disciple, and not being one at all. Oh ! 
 that we may not only company long with Jesus, but 
 advance far into the knowledge of Him ; trouble loses 
 half its power, if suffered with, or for, a well known 
 Christ. 
 
 But perhaps the reader is ^ 'privileged believer ; and 
 says, Am I, with all my privileges, still to be subject 
 to sorrow T' Were not all the disciples privileged ? 
 Who had such privileges as they had, and yet what 
 greater trouble could any have had, than that which 
 now filled their hearts ? Had the disciples used their 
 privileges aright, they would probably have escaped the 
 trouble which came upon them now — trouble, from 
 not being able plainly to discern Jesus ; but no amount 
 of privilege, even if made the most of will save from 
 trial of every kind. We must use our privileges to 
 carry us through trial, not to procure exemption from it ; 
 ^Hor whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth 
 every son whom He receiveth. If ye endure chastening, 
 
300 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 God dealeth with you as with sons ; for what son is he 
 whom the father chasteneth not ? But if ye he without 
 chastisement, whereof all are partakers, then are ye 
 bastards and not sons Heb. xii. 6 — 9. Dear reader, 
 do not deny your privileges, because you cannot deny 
 your trials ; never listen to your great enemy, when he 
 says, If you were a child of God, you would never have 
 been thus tried this was how the Evil One assaulted 
 Job, when he said, Put forth thine hand now, and touch 
 his bone and his flesh, and he will curse thee to thy 
 face Job ii. 5. 
 
 Let us enquire, however, into some of the causes of 
 the disciples’ trouble, which Jesus dispelled by the per- 
 formance of His promise, I will come unto you.” 
 
 Behold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself” 
 
 A part of their troubles arose from imperfect appre- 
 hension of the truth. They cannot apprehend the res- 
 surrection of the body as yet. They believed no doubt 
 in a future life, but the resurrection of the body was a 
 mystery to them. And from this very source come 
 many of our troubles ; we knew a part of a truth, but we 
 have failed in taking in the whole ; and then, when events 
 occur, which can be explained only by our knowledge 
 of that part of the truth which we have failed to learn, 
 we are confused, perhaps confounded, and brought into 
 great trouble. If we have but a very imperfect appre- 
 hension of the great truth that ^^ God is love then 
 when His love is shown in sorrowful dispensations, we 
 do not perceive that there is love in them, and we are 
 amazed. If we had fully grasped the truth, then we 
 should have known that let what will come, love must 
 be in it — must come with it — and the fulness of our 
 
THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 301 
 
 knowledge of Divine love would keep us in perfect 
 peace. 
 
 It is a great thing to have our apprehension of truth 
 made more perfect ; to be growing in knowledge which 
 will keep us from disagreeable surprises in the Divine 
 life. Had the disciples apprehended more fully the 
 resurrection of the body^ that which at first proved to 
 them a disagreeable surprise (disagreeable^ inasmuch as 
 it affrighted them) would have proved a most agreeable 
 one — yes^ the most agreeable they could possibly have 
 had. If we enter fully into the teachings of Jesus, we 
 shall have no disagreeable surprises, we shall have many 
 most agreeable ones ; for we shall in all behold Him, 
 that it is He Himself. 
 
 Another part of the disciples' trouble arose from an 
 unaccustomed manifestation. One who had been dead 
 and buried came amongst them alive again. But why 
 should they have been so amazingly astonished at this ? 
 Jairus's daughter, and the nobleman's, and the widow's 
 son, and Lazarus, had been raised from the dead ; might 
 they not have remembered these, and so have been less 
 troubled when they saw the Lord Himself.^ In the first 
 place, death and resurrection came more home to them- 
 selves now, than they had done on any previous occasion; 
 this was a matter in which they were personally con- 
 cerned ; and in the next place, on all previous occasions, 
 those who had been restored to life, lived again in the 
 old bodies, the same that they ever had, and not in 
 resurrection bodies at all. They had bodies which 
 belonged to this life, the same as before ; Christ had a 
 body which belonged to this world no more. J esus could 
 prove the identity of His body, for He says, Behold 
 
302 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 my hands and my feet, that it is I myself ; handle me, 
 and see ; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones as ye see 
 me have but it was now the body of the resurrection, 
 and to the manifestation of such a body, they were 
 wholly unaccustomed. 
 
 And are we to expect that we are never to travel out 
 of the beaten road of accustomed manifestations ? If this 
 be the case, we can never make great advance in the 
 Divine life. It is by going on to new problems that the 
 mathematician perfects himself in science ; it is by 
 copying new scenes that the artist perfects himself in 
 art ; it is by practising new pieces that the musician 
 perfects himself in song ; and it is by new manifestations 
 of Jesus that the believer also makes his advances. 
 Surely we shall lead a miserable life, if every unac- 
 customed, every new aspect, in which Jesus presents 
 Himself to us, is to bring us consternation and misery. 
 May we so apprehend Christ's teachings by the Spirit, 
 that when He manifests Himself in any ivay^ we may 
 not be troubled, but say, I discern His hands and feet ; 
 it is He Himself." 
 
 There is another aspect in which this trouble of the 
 disciples must be surveyed. They were all in trouble 
 together ; they could not help the one the other. The 
 stoutest ofthe apostles —Peter — was as much terrified as 
 any of the rest, and so was the most loving, John ; as 
 they looked in each other's faces, they could see nothing 
 to calm and re-assure ; all was consternation, terror, and 
 distress. They were just as helpless as they had been 
 in the storm on the lake, when they saw Jesus, and 
 thinking that it was a spirit, cried out for fear. 
 
 There are seasons of trouble, when no one on earth 
 
THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 303 
 
 can help ns ; when we find old familiar spiritual friends 
 quite unable to bring us comfort ; when they themselves 
 are as much astonished and perplexed as we are. The 
 child of God is sometimes like one in a family, where 
 death has made an awful chasm ; he looks in every one's 
 face for comfort, but each one looks as mournful and 
 comfortless as he does himself. Have not some of us 
 experienced this ; have we not been amongst many who 
 would have comforted us, but they could not ? The lack 
 was in their power and not their will. Christian fami- 
 lies, and Christian communities and churches, have 
 been like the disciples — the whole body confused, terror- 
 stricken, and distressed. 
 
 All this is very terrible, but, perhaps, we must be 
 taught the nothingness of man in this form, as well as 
 others ; it may be that God would speak to us and say, 
 
 Your comfort, your peace lie not in the many, any 
 more than they do in the few ; you will find these 
 blessings not amongst many of your fellow men, or 
 from their countenance and ministry, but from one 
 man, even Christ Jesus, His countenance, and His min- 
 istry, and that alone." 
 
 Yes ! the revelation of Jesus Christ Himself is the 
 solution of trouble. Jesus knew this when He gave 
 His disciples the promise, I will come unto you He 
 proved it when He now appeared ; and it was on the 
 full manifestation of His identity that they obtained 
 peace. I will come unto you everything hung upon 
 the identification of their Lord. 
 
 Now this fulfilment of Christ's promise has much 
 to do with ourselves ; we also are greatly concerned in 
 the identity of Christ. For, when this identity is es- 
 
304 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 tablislied, we know that we have to do with One whose 
 new life is connected with previous well-known life^ that 
 previous well-knoion life being identical with our oion. 
 This idea^ amongst others^ underlies the words of our 
 Lord to St. JohUj when He appeared to him^ in, not only 
 a resurrection, hut also a glorified hody, thus He com- 
 forted the apostle who fell prostrate at the sight. And 
 He laid His right hand upon me, saying unto me, 
 Fear not ; I am the first and the last : I am He that 
 liveth and was dead, and hehold, I am alive for ever- 
 more. Amen Eev. i. 17, 18. am He that liveth 
 and was dead.'^ It is hy bringing the past and present 
 together that the Lord, declaring His identity, comforts 
 the affrighted man. 
 
 What can comfort us more than the knowledge that 
 our Lord, now in union with us, although in glory, 
 remembers well His former life upon the earth. What 
 that life was, we know full well ; in it met all the 
 sorrows of humanity in the highest form ; none endured 
 such pain as He ; none wept such tears as He ; none 
 were so isolated in loneliness as He ; none were so 
 maligned, insulted, wronged, as He ; His life was like 
 an hour glass, every sand-grain in which represented a 
 sorrow, — one upon another do they heap with deep 
 broad base and tapering point,' — the base made up of 
 the falling together of many a sharp point, until at 
 last there remains not a grain to fall — not a sorrow to 
 be endured ; He had exhausted the sum total of human 
 woe ! Then came the turning of the glass : behold for 
 Him all things are made new ; in resurrection life He 
 receives glory for all the sufferings of the past ; but it 
 is no part of His glory to forget the past. To forget 
 
THE “I WILL” OF COMFOLT. 
 
 305 
 
 the past would be to destroy human sympathy — to blot 
 out all that it has to do with meditation^ comfort^ and 
 support. This [man] because He continueth ever^ hath 
 an unchangeable priesthood Heb. vii. 24. But what 
 kind of priesthood ? The priesthood of the man Christ 
 Jesus : For verily He took not on Him the nature of 
 angels ; but He took on Him the seed of Abraham. 
 Wherefore in all things it behoved Him to be made 
 like unto His brethren^ that He might be a merciful and 
 faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God, to 
 make reconciliation for the. sins of the people. For in 
 that He Himself hath suffered being tempted, He is able 
 to succor them that are tempted Heb. ii. 16-18. 
 
 In this well-known passage, the great comforting 
 point is the identity of the Christ on earth with the 
 Christ in Heaven, — the oneness of the suffering and the 
 glorified One, — the carrying out, in fact, to its legitimate 
 result, the promise, I will come unto you.'' It involves 
 the retention and exercise of the power of human 
 memory — the power of throwing one's self into the past, 
 with all its circumstances and feelings, and then acting 
 in the vividness of that recollection. How little do 
 we know of this ! We have memories, but they are 
 imperfect ; we recall facts, but we cannot recall the 
 feelings connected with facts in their original power ; 
 but Jesus recalls feelings and facts together, and acts 
 in the power of both. When J esus said, I will come 
 unto you," that promise linked itself to all the future 
 trials of His Church, from the spilling of the martyrs' 
 blood, down to the breathing of the half unconscious 
 sigh ; with that golden chain He bound Himself as the 
 
 Man Christ Jesus" to his Church, in the weakness of 
 
306 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF COMFOBT. 
 
 its suffering humanity, and pledged Himself to be a 
 man with men ; one of them, even after having passed 
 through death — the great severer of human ties. Jesus 
 lives at present surrounded with the memories of the 
 past ; His coming in human form to the apostles was 
 but a preliminary step to His after visitations by the 
 Spirit. It is such a Christ that we must take as our 
 own, hearing Him say to us no other than what He 
 said to the apostles of old, I will not leave you com- 
 fortless, I will come unto you.'' 
 
 But this is not all. When Jesus fulfilled His 
 promise to His disciples. He brought them peace as 
 regards the world beyond, by the convincing proof of a 
 bodily human life which had gone through and survived 
 death. This body had wounds ; and whatever aspect 
 these wounds might have worn, when He hung upon the 
 cross and lay in the tomb, as the tokens of the power of 
 the violated law, avenging itself on Him ; the aspect 
 which they wear, as Christ comes now in this same 
 living body, to fulfil His promise to His disciples, is one 
 of victory. These wounds were the proofs of His 
 triumph over death ; they were ^^peace-tokens connected 
 with His death in His very body Jesus brought the 
 elements of comfort ; the marks of suffering all spake, 
 
 * “ The Lord showeth His wounds not merely as the tokens of His 
 crucifixion, for the identity of His body; but evidently also as the 
 tokens of victory, the proofs of His triumph over death, and therefore 
 also — and this is its deepest meaning — as pertaining to His introduc- 
 tory greeting! as the peace-tokens of His sacrificial death, of His 
 accomplished atonement. This had reference, indeed, rather to the 
 future understanding of the disciples (which soon followed in the open- 
 ing of Scripture), in the symbolical meaning of this His revelation for 
 
THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 307 
 
 and said, Peace be unto you ^ye are not left com- 
 fortless, I liave come unto you.'’ ^^We will have no 
 Saviour,'' says St. Martin, without the prints of the 
 wounds so say we ; for these are speaking wounds, 
 and their utterance is, peace." 
 
 Should these lines be read by any one who is taking 
 this world as his portion, I would say to such a one, 
 ^ this is a comfortless world apart from Christ.' Sooner or 
 later, what you think to be springs of comfort will dry 
 up, what you think to be gold and wealth, will become 
 ashes and dross ; and then, perhaps, for you there will be 
 no friendly comforting Christ. Alas ! for you there will 
 remain no promises, no sympathies, and this your deso- 
 lation will come upon you by your own rejection, by 
 your own fault. A visiting Christ bodes no good to you 
 — no good — but evil — deep dark evil of the most fearful 
 
 His whole future church ; yet we may, as Diez says, expound it as 
 historically true, that ‘ they began to have a presentiment of the 
 mysterious connection between this peace and the wounds of J esus. 
 This is the true token by which He comforts the terrified conscience 
 
 and heart That He retained in the resurrection these marks of 
 
 His wounds on the body which was to be exalted to heaven (marks 
 which otherwise, as the concomitant of death, might or should have been 
 abolished) ; and that He retains them till now, and for eternity, as the 
 glorious tokens of His victory and atonement, is of great and blessed 
 significance for our faith. It was as assuredly the Lord’s will, as we see, 
 to appear Himself to His disciples as ‘the crucified,’ as the angel in 
 the empty sepulchre termed Him ; and thereby to manifest His glory, 
 thereby to seal His peace. To this referred that suggestive legend of 
 Satan’s appearance in the form of the glorified Saviour, when St. 
 Martin repelled him by asking him for the prints of the wounds. Ho 
 (}>avTaGjLLa (phantasm) could counterfeit these wounds, for these were 
 chosen and sanctified by the Lord of glory as the tokens and marks by 
 which He would be known.” See Steir’s “Words of the Lord Jesus,” 
 vol. viii. 
 
308 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 kind. Behold, He cometli with clouds ; and every eye 
 shall see Him, and they also that pierced Him : and all 
 kindreds of the earth shall wail because of Him Eev. 
 i. 7. Ah ! poor fellow sinner, where will you be then ? 
 Where will you hide yourself ? What cave will open 
 its mouth to hide you in its stony breast ? What 
 mountain will fall upon you to crush you with its 
 ponderous weight ? For you there will be no hope ; 
 for you there will remain nothing but an eternity of 
 deep and dark despair. May such a fearful doom be 
 averted by a speedy closing with the offers of the Lord; 
 amongst the true disciples of the Lord, the comforted 
 and the blest, yet, yet there is room.” 
 
 And to the Lord's people I will add this comforting 
 word. 
 
 (1.) Look not at yourself as isolated, as the sparrow 
 upon the housetop, as one friendless, homeless, belonging 
 indeed to Christ, but having no affinity, no relationship 
 with any one else. You are one of a family, of a family 
 like that of the disciples, made up of one gathered from 
 this quarter, and another from that ; you have first the 
 great affinity with Christ, and then that with His people ; 
 you have relations ; there are those with whom you have 
 a common interest ; those to whom Jesus says, will 
 not leave you comfortless, I will come unto you." Be 
 cheerful in the thought ; you have friends both in 
 heaven and on earth ! 
 
 And (2.) Never permit yourself for one moment to 
 consider that you are cut off from the benefit of Christ's 
 personality. If you do, vagueness and indistinctness 
 will characterize your spiritual life ; and you will lose 
 yourself in the surrounding haze. 
 
THE “ I WILL OF COMFORT. 
 
 309 
 
 It is tlie privilege of the believer to have to do with 
 a substantial Christ ; thrice happy he who knows what 
 it is to live^ and move^ and speak with a personal, liv- 
 ing Lord. Jesus fulfilled His promise to His disciples. 
 Let us also grasp the I wilh" which He spake to them, 
 and He will fulfil it to our peace. 
 
 The following extract, from one of Captain Hedley 
 Vicars' letters, gives us a touching instance of the com- 
 fort given by the presence of Christ, in cheerless daily 
 life. 
 
 It is a very gloomy day, the sky black and lowering, 
 and the rain descending in torrents. I was meditating 
 just now ou this bleak scene of cheerless solitude — my 
 only companion a little quail ! — and thinking over the 
 strange and often appalling sights my eyes have looked 
 upon, in the realities of death and the grave, since God 
 called me here. As these ideas floated through my mind, 
 the train of my thoughts suddenly changed, and the 
 dismal view without, and the cold and dreary room I 
 occupy, brought before me Ghe man of sorrows' — Jesus 
 — who once weathered the stormy tempest for you and 
 for me, and of whom it maybe said, from the manger to 
 the grave, that He had not ^ where to lay his head.' It 
 is so soothing to the soul, in seasons of cloud and dis- 
 tress, to know that Jesus hath borne our griefs, and 
 carried our sorrows,' and to rest on the tender kindness 
 of Him who has said, ^ As one whom his mother com- 
 forteth, so will I comfort you.' " 
 
 The troubled ones form a large portion of the great 
 family of God. There are many mourning garments, 
 many sorrowful countenances, many depressed hearts 
 amongst His children ; all tears are not yet wiped away 
 
310 
 
 THE '‘I WILL” OF COMFORT. 
 
 from the eyes of the people of the Lord. It may he that 
 we are sad because of our own fault ; or perhaps, without 
 any fault of ours, simply because we are under discipline; 
 but whatever the cause, amongst us the sadness is often 
 to be found. Some are sitting silent, some solitary, some 
 perplexed, some weeping, some doubting ; there are 
 different kinds and different degrees of woe. 
 
 But for all these there is the one Christ, uttering 
 now the self-same words. 
 
 I will not leave you comfortless, I will come unto 
 you.^^ 
 
“ I Wll " of iisposal. 
 
 John xxi. 22. 
 
John xxi. 22. 
 
 “ Jesus saith unto him, If I will that ho tarry till I come, what is that 
 to thee ? follow thou me.” 
 
 f ETER'S discipleship involved his education ! 
 
 Jesus was not only the Master whom he 
 was to follow, but the One also by whom he 
 was to be taught. On many ditferent occa- 
 sions we find him thus being instructed in the school of 
 Christ. On one occasion he will make human affection 
 thrust itself forward, so as to come in conflict with the 
 Divine will ; and he receives the severest reproof which 
 was ever inflicted upon any of the apostolic band ; our 
 Lord said to him, Gfet thee behind me, Satan : thou art 
 an offence unto me : for thou savorest not the things 
 that be of Grod, but those that be of men Matt. xvi. 
 23. On another occasion he will go beyond his faith ; 
 and his Master shews him what was in him, rescuing 
 him indeed from a watery grave, but saying, 0 thou of 
 little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt Matt. xiv. 31. 
 On farther in his career, when he draws the sword, and 
 will rescue with a temporal blade the spiritual king, he 
 
 14 
 
314 
 
 THE WILL” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 is taught forbearance, and the mind of Jesus towards 
 man, by the healing of Malchus" ear ; for Jesus came 
 to be wounded and not to wound, “ to give His life a 
 ransom for many.'' Then again, our Lord, first by word 
 of caution — and when that was unheeded, and disastrous 
 results ensued, then by a piercing look, taught him — the 
 vaunting and self-confident one — that distrust of self, 
 which is in the Christian character no element of weak- 
 ness, but rather of amazing strength. And now, here, at 
 the very end of Jesus' earthly career, we find Him teach- 
 ing still. If I will that he tarry till I come what is 
 that to thee contains at once a sharp rebuke, and in- 
 structive lessons for the apostle ; and for us as well as 
 him. 
 
 What some at least of these lessons are Ave shall now 
 proceed to consider ; they will be found of no small 
 value in our daily spiritual life. 
 
 And first of all, we see here, how Christ is the 
 sovereign disposer of His disciples. 
 
 In Peter and John we have represented to us the 
 three great parts of the church's work, viz., loorkmg^ 
 suffering., and ivatehing^ and our Lord here distributes to 
 every man severally as Hev/ill. Jesus is the Captain of 
 our salvation, therefore He has the right to dispose of us, 
 His soldiers, in the line of battle, as He will. He is the 
 Shepherd of the sheep, therefore He has a right to 
 appoint to each one of the flock Avhere it is to feed. He 
 is the Master of the house, therefore He has a right to 
 appoint every man his work, and to command the por- 
 ter to watch. (Mark xiii. 34.) 
 
 Now, it is an important question ; do we recognise 
 
THE ‘‘I WILL” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 315 
 
 this disposing j)Ower in Christ? And^ having recognized 
 itj do we willingly yield ourselves to it ? Do we say to 
 Him, Just do with me as Thou wilt^ 0 my Lord ; I 
 am absolutely at Thy command.'^ Are we ready to let 
 Him change^ unchallenged^ His dispensations towards 
 us? upset our plans — spread before us a new and unex- 
 j)ected path — take into account only the thoughts of His 
 mind^ and not those of ours at all? Is there not sometimes 
 in us, a little of the spirit of Ananias and Sapphira; we 
 will vow all^ and yet give but part ? Christ has often to 
 teach His disciples the completeness of His disposing 
 power; and never can they have perfect peace in all that 
 may betide them in life^ until they have said in truth; 
 
 Do with me as Thou wilt.^" But we shall meet by 
 and by with more of this subjugation of the will. 
 
 We are further taught here^ that we are not to 
 trouble ourselves about the arrangements of our Lord, 
 
 NoW; when we do not act upon this princi23le; a serious 
 stumbling block is very often put in our way ; our at- 
 tempts to unravel what is too comj)licated for uS; lead 
 us into perj)lexity and doubt ; we vex our spirits need- 
 lessly about what is really no afhiir of ours. 
 
 And this not leaving all in the hands of the Lord; 
 will frequently lead us to sinful complainings about our 
 own lot. Forgetful that our duty is simj)ly to stand in 
 the spot where our Lord puts uS; and to move in the 
 orbit which He has appointed to us ; we vex ourselves 
 as to why we are put there; and why we were not put 
 somewhere else ; and perhaps we begin to think; ^ Can't 
 we change our sphere, we see one that will suit us much 
 better ?' we must needs order the pillar and the cloud, 
 instead of simply following wherever they lead. If the 
 
316 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 Lord wills this, or that, it is no affair of ours ; our duty 
 is to let Him arrange, unquestioned, all that He would 
 have us do or he. A questioning spirit is always a 
 troubled one ; God ^^giveth not account of any of His 
 matters Job xxxiii. 13. And there is no reason why 
 He should help us out of our trouble, by yielding to our 
 infirmity. Hay, rather must we overcome the infirm- 
 ity, bringing our minds, by His grace, into unquestion- 
 ing obedience to His mind, our only words being these. 
 
 Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth.'' The centurion 
 says to one of his soldiers, Go, and he goeth, and to 
 another, come, and he cometh ; and to his servant, do 
 this, and he doeth it Matt. viii. 9. Shall we, soldiers 
 and se-rvants of the great Captain, and the great Lord, 
 do less than those who yielded unquestioning obedience 
 to an earthly chief ? 
 
 And shall we not be then most happy, when we just 
 leave everything simply in our Lord’s hands ? When 
 we leave all arrangements with the One who knows 
 what bearing circumstances have the one upon another; 
 who can control, overrule, appoint, and dove-tail all 
 things, so that they may turn out most for His own 
 glory, and therefore best for us ? Let us for a moment 
 picture to ourselves the frightful consequences of the 
 effectual entrance of some great disturbing body into 
 the planetary system ; the universe itself would feel the 
 shock ; but what would this be, compared with the 
 successful intrusion of man’s will into the complicated 
 arrangements of the will of God ? Then would arise 
 confusion indeed ; and out of that confusion we should 
 emerge a mere shattered wreck, our will would have 
 proved our ruin, the perdition both of body and soul. 
 
THE ‘a WILL” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 317 
 
 Alas ! that we recognize so little the existence of 
 this great superior I will/" so little our own position 
 of simple obedience, that we do not see that our Lord"s 
 orderings are no business of ours. Could we but say 
 He wills/" and that is enough for me, we should 
 receive no rebuke, and we should enjoy sweet calm and 
 peace. 
 
 What best becomes us is to believe deeply that our 
 Lord acts evermore, out of secret depths known to Him- 
 self, and Himself alone ; His way is in the sea, 
 and His path is in the great waters, and His footsteps 
 are not known :"" Ps. Ixxvii. 19. And can we not see, 
 in a moment, how this would bring us peace ? What 
 a world of speculation, and doubt, and discontent, we 
 should be saved ? When we could not see to the 
 bottom of this or that strange thing, how should we 
 comfort ourselves with the thought, My Lord sees to 
 the bottom of it :"" Thou wilt keep him in perfect 
 peace, whose mind is stayed upon Thee ; because he 
 trusteth in Thee :"" Isa. xxvi. 3. 
 
 And as we are not to trouble ourselves about the 
 arrangements of the Lord, so. 
 
 We are to mind our own business. This is all impor- 
 tant to us. And I may be permitted to observe, that 
 this will generally give us as much as we can possibly 
 do. If we find that it does not give us enough to do, to 
 mind our own business, it is because we have not taken 
 up the position fully which God has pointed out to us. 
 Our Lord does not leave any one in a position, where 
 there is nothing to be done. If any reader of these 
 lines think so, let him seriously set to work, and try and 
 
318 
 
 THE “I WILL’’ OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 find out whether there is nothing that he can possibly do 
 for Christ ; and if he find that there is^ and that he has 
 not done it^ then let him complain no more that he has 
 nothing appointed to him of the Lord. It is for idle 
 minds, that Satan finds some mischief still to do.'' 
 
 We may rest assured, that we are not following our 
 Lord fully, when we thus turn about, and meddle with 
 other person's matters ; yea, meddle with the arrange- 
 ments which He makes. And we may also rest assured, 
 that when we turn about" and leave our own ^‘^follow- 
 ing" of the Lord, we are getting out of the path of duty, 
 and very near rebuke ; what can Ave say, when we bring 
 it upon ourselves ? 
 
 This ^not minding our own business' involves the 
 loss of concentration ; and Avherever there is a loss of 
 concentration there is a loss of power. Peter, it seems, 
 
 turned about he probably did something more than 
 merely turn his head ; most likely he turned his whole 
 body ; but under any circumstance he was hindered in 
 carrying out the command which he had just received, 
 to follow Christ. We all know hoAV seriously we are 
 delayed by very small stoppings, or even by turning to 
 look round ; if another be walking Avith us, Avho does 
 not thus stop and turn, he gets several j)aces in advance 
 of us, and Ave may find it very hard to catch him up 
 again. Eternity alone will tell hoAV much is lost by 
 turning, and stopping, to meddle it may be Avith that 
 Avhich does not belong to us at all, as is the case Avith 
 Peter now. And be it observed, that it by no means 
 folloAvs that these turnings and stoppings are necessarily 
 connected Avith worldly things. Alas ! aa'o have sad ex- 
 periences of turnings, and stoppings, to look at the jieep 
 
THE ‘-I WILL” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 319 
 
 shows which the world has at every corner of the 
 streets ; we need the intense energy and concentration 
 of the hero of Excelsior/' to stop our ears^ and avert 
 our eyes from that which would beguile and hinder us 
 on our way ; but we have sad experiences in the spirit- 
 ual life also ; we fritter away our power, by spending 
 part of it upon what has no claim upon it at all ; some- 
 thing it may be that was not immediately presented to 
 us, but which we turned round to, and so made our- 
 selves amenable to rebuke. We dilute our strength by 
 these turnings ; at every turning Delilah pulls out a 
 hair, though she can not entirely shave the head. 
 
 We can never go out of our own place of simple fol- 
 lowing, without the ensuing of evil, or confusion of some 
 kind ; and in such evil and confusion, we shall not have 
 the comfort which we can have in the trials with which 
 we meet, when closely following our Lord. There is a 
 great difference between self-made, and providential 
 trials ; in the first we throw ourselves out of the sym- 
 pathy of Christ ; in the second, we may be sure that 
 that sympathy is ours. Trials while folloicing are 
 light — we have Jesus before us; trials while turning 
 are heavy — we have Jesus behind us. 
 
 Observe also, lioio different oftentimes are Christ's 
 answers to our expectations, 
 
 Peter had just had assigned to him a two-fold 
 position, in which was involved honor of the very 
 highest kind. In verses 15 — 19, he has a position of 
 activity appointed to him ; he is constituted a feeder of 
 Christ's lambs and sheep. It may be that by first 
 directing his attention to the lambs, the Lord would 
 
320 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 not only shew His own special care of the weak ones ; 
 hut He would also point out to the once aspiring 
 apostle^ that the highest energies of which he was pos- 
 sessed^ Avould he worthily expended ujion even the very 
 least in the kingdom of God. The prophet Isaiah 
 [xl. 2] declared^ that Jesus should ^^feed His flock like 
 a shepherd that He should gather the lamhs with 
 His arm, and carry them in His hosom and it was 
 very meet and right that He, the Great Shepherd, 
 should give especial charge to an under shepherd, to ho 
 careful of those for whom He designed to make His 
 own hosom a fold. 
 
 In this shepherding of the lamhs and sheep, a 
 j^osition of great activity was assigned to Peter ; it may 
 he that he now expected to hear the like assigned to 
 John. Christ's answer was entirely different to what 
 he expected ; instead of telling him about this other. 
 He recalled him hy a sharp rehuke to his own duty. 
 Now, had Peter, while following, put some needful 
 question to Jesus with reference to himself — one asking 
 for direction, there is little douht hut that he would 
 have received a gracious answer ; the needful questions 
 of followers are always graciously answered ; hut this 
 was the question of a turner, and the answer was a 
 rehuke. Many a time has the Christian put himself 
 into Peter's position, and fared as Peter did. And let 
 us not forget that high personal position will not 
 save us from such rehuke. Peter had just accepted the 
 laborious office of a shepherd, and accepted, moreover, 
 the sufferings which were implied in his being girded 
 and carried where he would not. But all this does 
 not save him from rebuke when he goes astray. Is it 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 321 
 
 not ever thus ? Will not the Lord always deal with 
 us according to each short-coming ? Perhaps the very 
 height of the apostle's position brought upon him this 
 exceeding sharpness of rebuke. Open rebuke is bet- 
 ter than secret love Prov. xxvii. 5. As many as I 
 love, I rebuke and chasten Eev. hi. 19. It might 
 seem to us but a small thing to turn for a moment ; 
 this was, as we should think, but a little fault in the 
 great apostle ; but it was in the very presence of the 
 Lord ; it was while His words, Follow me," were still 
 almost ringing in his very ears. 
 
 Is it not well for us, dear reader, that Jesus does not 
 permit Himself to be swayed by our expectations ? 
 Ah ! how foolish are earthly parents and friends in this 
 particular ; you cannot bear to disappoint the expecta- 
 tions of a child, or of a friend, when they often expect 
 you will do for them what they feel you ought not. 
 Such is the weakness of love, and very fearful are the 
 evils which the weakness of love has inflicted on the 
 world. But there is none of this in Christ, — false ex- 
 pectations are not honored by Him. We cannot be 
 too thankful that a turning Peter met with a rebuking 
 Christ. 
 
 And now let us learn further, that the will of Christ 
 may he very strongly manifested in a comparatively 
 uneventful career, If I will that he tarry." 
 
 Shepherding and martyrdom had just been appointed 
 to Peter, tarrying" is all that is marked out for John. 
 
 How do we know what is involved in many appa- 
 rently uneventful careers ? Uneventful careers are 
 such only in our forms of speech, and in our eyes ; there 
 
 14 * 
 
322 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 are really none in the spiritual world. The heroes of 
 that world are not those only who are associated in our 
 minds with fire and sword^ with dungeon and with 
 rack ; these indeed are mighty heroes^ we stand aside 
 in the shade, as they defile in long procession, with all 
 the symbols of martyrs before our eyes ; we look upon 
 them, and then say of ourselves, What are we but 
 we believe that in the last day of great account, there 
 will be found many whose career has been as strange as 
 theirs. Now he who swims down the stream may have 
 an uneventful career, but he who breasts it will not ; 
 he who is content to tarry in his dungeon may have an 
 uneventful career, but he who makes his escape will 
 not ; and in many a country hamlet,' leading to all out- 
 ward appearances calm and unruffled lives, are such 
 heroes and heroines of the cross ; the battle-field deep 
 hidden in their own hearts ; the fire burning, and the 
 falchion glittering there. Man racks his brain for sto- 
 ries of romance ; and fearful lest his tale should flag, 
 brings actor after actor in quick succession on the 
 scene ; the deed of violence, the craft of knavery, the 
 soft tenderness of love, he crowds upon his page ; but 
 amazed perhaps will these men be, when they find that 
 their imagination has been outstripped by reality ; that 
 they have painted in but wasting colors — scenes, which 
 in all the intensity of deepest coloring have been en- 
 acted within the Christian's heart — scenes in which the 
 murderer from the beginning" attempted murder 
 again ; in which the deceiver swore, and lied, to cheat 
 a soul of heaven ; in which the love that passeth 
 knowledge" won the victory at last. 
 
 I hold that there is no such thing as an uneventful 
 
THE “I WILL” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 323 
 
 life in the spiritual world, except it be for those who are 
 dead in trespasses and sins they no doubt have 
 some events in their life, just as a body in the grave has 
 its events in its progress to decay ; but in them there 
 is no spiritual vitality, and Satan leaves his own alone. 
 And let this address itself to those who are panting for 
 large spheres of labor, or great opportunities of devo- 
 tion, who want to prove their devotion by facts ; and let 
 it say, Hast thou so proved thy devotion in this inward 
 sphere, and so fully followed Christ therein, that thou 
 hast exhausted there all opportunities of life for Christ, 
 and must go forth to find vent for the mighty impulses 
 within Who can say that he has followed Christ to 
 the full, amid the many windings even of his own 
 naughty heart ? Not one ; there never was a man who 
 availed himself of every inch of ground which was af- 
 forded him in his own heart, for winning glory to his 
 Lord. When we are called to outward service, right 
 cheerfully let us enter upon it ; but if to us there be 
 manifestly appointed the still path, then let us walk 
 cheerfully thereon, being assured that it also is not un- 
 eventful, and that in it, as well as in a more crowded 
 road, we may live and move for Grod. 
 
 And here arises an important question ; viz.. Is what 
 we call our uneventful path, that which Grod has marked 
 out for us, or is it one of our own choosing ? Have 
 we it as our own portion by Divine arrangement, or by 
 our rejection of the turning point, which might have led 
 us to a more eventful career ? It is highly possible 
 that some one on refiection, may be able to see that 
 such turning points were presented to him in his past 
 life, but he turned ofi* the rail and ran up a siding, and 
 
324 
 
 THE I WILL ” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 there he has remained up to the present day ; while 
 trains fast and slow are passing by^ there he is^ in the 
 same place now, that he was many years ago. There 
 are, unquestionably, many turning j)oints in our spir- 
 itual career — turning points as regards the destiny of 
 our usefulness, and even as regards our spirituality ; and 
 to fail in taking advantage of these, is a serious error 
 indeed ; and that if the reader have left such a turning 
 point of usefulness unimproved, let him now confess his 
 fault ; let him simply put himself in the hands of God 
 again ; let him say, Here am I, do with me as thou 
 wilt then with fire as it were rekindled, and steam 
 got up ; with wheel and piston oiled and bright, let 
 him keep looking earnestly for a signal to tell him to 
 move on. When the right time has come, an instru- 
 ment will always be found to turn the switches, and you 
 will find yourself upon the line ; in glorious action for 
 the Lord whom you would serve. 
 
 In saying this, there are of course two points which 
 we assume ; the one is that waiting is not the distinc- 
 tive lot appointed to us of God ; the other is, that it is 
 His Spirit who gives us the gracious thoughts of which 
 we have been speaking. And fully are we persuaded 
 that if any to whom this distinctive work of waiting is 
 not appointed, and who have nevertheless been unoccu- 
 pied for God, because of their own shortcoming, that if 
 any such will now yield themselves into the hand of 
 God, they shall find that their sphere will be appointed 
 to them ere long ; an humble one indeed it may be, but 
 still it will be a real one, an honorable service in which 
 there will be a great reward. 
 
 Nor would we part from this portion of our subject 
 
THE “I WILL” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 325 
 
 without availing ourselves of the privilege of saying a 
 word to those, who are by the Divine arrangement dis- 
 tinctly placed in the position of tarrying ones ; and 
 who are perhaps inclined to envy those who have had 
 assigned to them a more active sphere. You, dear 
 friends, do not aspire to driving an express at high 
 pressure for the Lord ; you would be content unob- 
 served to do hard work, like the luggage train that 
 rumbles along through the night quite unobserved, with 
 a heavy weight of uninteresting trucks behind it ; any 
 thing would satisfy you, so as only you were in action. 
 
 Do not fall into the mistake, of not being able to dis- 
 cern the will of Grod except through your own activi- 
 ties ; must He depend upon any thing in you, for evi- 
 dence of the working of His will ? Ah ! is not this 
 putting ourselves forward ; was the action of Christ's 
 will to be discerned only in the shepherding and the 
 martyrdom of Peter, and not at all in the tarrying of 
 J ohn ? Be persuaded, that in lying upon a sick bed, 
 or in moving on noiselessly through some manifestly ap- 
 pointed humble sphere ; or in recognizing the will of 
 God in your being kept back from the activities of work, 
 you are fulfilling that very will. To be still, requires 
 as much grace, sometimes, as to be active ; oh ! for 
 such a heart as would seek, whether in activity or re- 
 tirement, in shepherding, martyrdom, or tarrying, only 
 to seek for, and try to carry out, the will of God in Christ. 
 
 And now we come to see how antecedents develop 
 themselves in an entirely different way from what we 
 should have supposed. 
 
 It needs no great philosophy to be able to perceive, 
 
326 
 
 THU “ I WILL ” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 that in the abstract, causes and effects are linked to- 
 gether ; indeed in the natural world we may go even 
 further, and from certain causes invariably predict cer- 
 tain effects ; but it is not so in the spiritual world. 
 There also the cause and effect are linked together, but 
 we do not always see the connection ; circumstances 
 are found to develop themselves in a different way from 
 what we should have supposed. Of this we may be 
 sure, that in the hand of Grod all circumstances develop 
 themselves aright. 
 
 Now look at the antecedents of John, and with none 
 but human rules to guide us, should we not have sup- 
 posed that some extraordinary sphere would have been 
 appointed to him ? He was the choice apostle of love ; 
 he was the one that leaned on Jesus' breast at supper ; 
 and that ventured to ask Him who it was that should 
 betray Him ; what more reasonable than to suppose, 
 that some especially wonderful work would be appointed 
 to him ? Grod seeth not as man seeth !" our thoughts 
 are not as His thoughts, neither are our ways like His 
 ways ; and unless wo believe this, we shall often be of- 
 fended and perplexed. 
 
 Let us mark this well in our own spiritual career ; 
 we are very apt to be offended, if the folded bud does 
 not develop into the exact flower we have j)ictured in 
 our minds ; if the figures which lie before us do not add 
 up to the amount that we expected ourselves. If we 
 know our own place, as being in subjection to the Divine 
 will, we shall not only look to Giod with reference to 
 circumstances, but with reference to their development 
 also. Look at that young man, with a noble intellect 
 and a consecrated heart, where is his fitting sphere ? 
 
THE “I WILL” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 327 
 
 You destine him for the pulpit — for a great career of 
 active usefulness ; his early piety gives promise of 
 this development ; hut perhaps God's development is 
 altogether different ; it may be that with blasted healthy 
 he is to become a simple tarrier for Jesus, or for aught 
 we know, he is going to be removed altogether, and to 
 find his development and expansion in heaven. Or look 
 at that young woman, whose heart is early given to the 
 Lord ; would not she have made a helpful wife to some 
 toiling man of God ? would it not have been a boon to the 
 world, to have her character, and energy, and holy prin- 
 ciple reproduced in a family, all of tliem devoted like- 
 wise to the Lord ? — so thinks man — but lo ! she too is 
 touched with illness, and pines for many a long year ; or 
 her lot is one of patient waiting upon another, perhaps 
 it is one of poverty, simply struggling to live, but what- 
 ever it be, it is not what we had marked out ; and have 
 this one's antecedents been belied in her destiny ? Not 
 so ; they may have found their most worthy develop- 
 ment in that lot ; and heaven's records of how divine 
 problems were worked out, will one day show us this. 
 
 But we need not always wait for the revelations of 
 eternity ; we can in many instances trace the dealings 
 of God in time. For, let us look at this very case of 
 John ; this great love of his for his master, may have 
 been necessary for his living dying," — his long wear- 
 ing out life — the loneliness of being left the last of all of 
 the apostolic band. Who can tell what it was to him to 
 have his righteous soul vexed from day to day with the 
 unlawful deeds of evil ; what it was to be exiled into 
 Patmos ; what it was to be continuing long in a world 
 with which he had little sympathy, except such a sym- 
 
328 
 
 THE “I WILL’’ OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 pathy as it rejected — a sympathy with its woe. Perhaps 
 so far as spiritual instrumentality goes^ nothing short 
 of these antecedents of which we have been speaking^ 
 would have carried him through. And oftentimes it 
 happens, that spiritual performances, which we despise 
 as not being brilliant, rest upon a deep substratum of 
 love to Christ ; there may be that in them which 
 nothing less than such a substratum would hold up. It 
 may seem a small thing to us for a person day by day 
 patiently to eat a crust, and yet that contentment may 
 be resting on the perception of that love of Jesus, which 
 ever provides aright. Perhaps we think little of 
 a person's resignation when all friends are gone, and 
 he is left alone ; and yet nothing short of a long and 
 well tried love of J esus might have sufficed to close 
 an otherwise murmuring lip for many a long year. 
 We may be almost certain that all spiritual trainings 
 are connected with important results ; it is the pres- 
 ervation of proportion between the wide spreading root 
 and the wide spreading branch — the branch whose leaves 
 do not wither, and which bringeth forth his fruit in his 
 season. 
 
 This waiting was John's mission, as much his, as 
 shepherding and martyrdom were Peter's ; his previous 
 love developed in the performance of that mission ; love 
 was as much needed for tarrying as for death. 
 
 We must look at John, however, as a icaiter in cmi- 
 oiection with Jesus, If I will that he tarry till I come." 
 How often do we, dazzled by appearances, forget the 
 true position of Grod's waiters. They also serve who 
 only stand and wait." We can understand the connec- 
 
THE “I WILL” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 329 
 
 tion between Christ and the martyr ; and between Christ 
 and the worker ; we often fail to see it between Christ 
 and the waiter. And hence the true Church of God 
 appears numerically much smaller than it really is ; we 
 do not see the hidden ones who are in connection with 
 Him ; we see the Elijahs as they smite Baal, but not 
 the seven thousand who are reserved, who in connection 
 with their God do not bow the knee to him. 
 
 If you, dear reader, in the providence of God, be one 
 of the waiters, and if you feel that you are Christ's, 
 then cheer up your spirits with that blessed thought. 
 Say to yourself, I also am joined unto the Lord ! I 
 also am standing in my place ! I am acting in the power 
 of love ! I day by day ^ lead the life I now live in the 
 flesh,' in simple union with my Lord." Oh ! what an 
 inestimable comfort must it have been to the apostle, 
 to feel that he was day by day fulfilling the will of 
 Christ. Surely he realized his position, — his hope 
 through all the long waiting time was fixed on Him^ 
 — day rose after day — night fell after night ; and though 
 he doubtless would have taken the wings of a dove?, 
 and flown away and been at rest, if he had only his 
 own pleasure to consult ; yet ever was he sustained by 
 this one thought, it is His will. 
 
 Observe lastly — 
 
 The directions of concentration. Follow thou me." 
 Peter had turned himself after having been told to 
 follow, and hence this stern rebuke, and also this re- 
 iterated command. In this second command our Lord 
 recalls the apostle to 'personal obedience, fixing his 
 attention upon himself, his own duty, and, moreover, 
 the need of doing it at once. And this is the very 
 
330 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF DISPOSAL. 
 
 direction which we so often need ; we want to be 
 taught that we are out of the path of personal obedi- 
 ence, and to be brought back to it again. It is as 
 though our Lord said^ Be thou engaged in thy per- 
 sonal obedience, and that is my will with regard to 
 thee.'' It was the same direction repeated ; as though 
 the Lord would shew the apostle that what He wills is 
 the reparation of a fault, not the destruction or casting 
 off of the one who commits it. Peter had already been 
 restored, and the great sin of his denial forgiven ; how 
 soon he needs restoration and forgiveness again ! This 
 is just our history ; our gracious Master has to rebuke 
 us and restore us too ; He does all ; He pours in both 
 oil and wine — that which will cleanse the wound, and 
 that which will make it whole. 
 
 What now remains but to ask the reader what is 
 his position at this very time ? Let each one ask him- 
 self, Am I following ? Am I following Him ? Is my 
 mind concentrated upon obedience to his command 
 
 Compare the explicitness of Follow thou me," with 
 the hypothetic If and in that explicitness mark the 
 determination of the Saviour's will. 
 
 Header ! whatever may be the will of Christ with 
 regard to others, what is that to thee ? His will con- 
 cerning thee is plain, — Follow thou me." 
 
''I Mill’' of Sxtbjatbm 
 
 Matthew xxvi. 39. Mark xiv. 36. 
 
Matthew xxvi. 39. 
 
 “ Nevertheless not as I will, but as Thou wilt.” 
 
 Mark xiv. 36. 
 
 “Nevertheless not what I will, but what Thou wilt.” 
 
 F WG could only see, with these our mortal eyes, 
 that which is going on in the spiritual world, we 
 should be amazed at its deep reality, at its terrible 
 intensity. By the spiritual world, we do not here 
 mean the angelic, whether good or bad, but men's 
 spiritual being, with all the action of spiritual agents 
 upon them, for good or evil. 
 
 Were our eyes thus opened, here should we see a 
 soul pressed down under heavy weights, the like of which, 
 if placed upon the frame, would crush its vitality in a 
 moment ; and there should we behold a soul fettered 
 and manacled with chains, the like of which, if binding 
 any human body, would effectually prevent its ever 
 getting free. On one side should we behold men driven 
 on to the brink of precipices which they see not, imagin- 
 ing that they are upon a smooth and easy road, the end 
 of which is Paradise — and on another, men driven on to 
 
334 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 those same precipices^ seeing them^ and yet unable to 
 avoid them ; and as we looked on all these real sights^ 
 we should then perhaps believe, that the spirit world is 
 as real as this in which we live and move, and touch 
 and eat. 
 
 But it is not evil only that by such an opening of our 
 eyes would be revealed to us, we should also be shewn 
 good — good,'" beautiful in its calm sweetness — ^^good," 
 beautiful in its terrific sublimity. For example : here is 
 a soul in which the will is conformed in great measure 
 to the will of Grod ; and whether it be the will of Grod, 
 that there should be a day of toil to be borne, or that 
 the night of death should now close in ; in either case 
 there is an even calm ; just as there is in the long day's 
 early twilight, when the day is about to break, or in its 
 shadowy eventide, when it is about to close. 
 
 But all good sights would not be like this. We 
 should see strife and crucifixion, we should hear sounds 
 of sorrow and of pain. Battles would be seen going on 
 in the souls of some, as real as are fought upon the fields 
 of earth ; crucifixions as real as that which took place 
 on Calvary. Men, under the generalship of God, would 
 be seen fighting their evil selves — cutting, thrusting their 
 own evil wills ; and although we can imagine but little 
 sublimity about a cross which was the malefactor's death- 
 spot — -the end of his life of ignominy and shame ; yet, 
 forasmuch as Jesus raised even the cross into the regions 
 of the sublime, so also can the followers of Jesus ; and 
 when a man is seen binding his will to the cross, nailing 
 it, crucifying it, piercing it, hearkening not to its cries ; 
 what is this but the sublime ? No ! not the sublime in 
 the eyes of those who see with unsanctified eyes — but 
 
THE ‘‘I WILL” OE SUBJECTION. 
 
 335 
 
 the sublime in the eyes of the Father^ and of the Son^ 
 and of the Holy Grhost. 
 
 There is nothing harder than the crucifixion of the 
 will ; the highest stage of Christian attainment is the 
 sanctification of the will. There are many triumphs to 
 be won in the spiritual warfare ; many points of progress 
 to be made in the spiritual journey ; many evidences of 
 our having learned specific lessons to be obtained in the 
 spiritual school ; but they all sink into comparative 
 nothingness, when compared with the great attaintment 
 of all— the sanctification of the will. 
 
 Let it be distinctly observed, that we do not under- 
 value any spiritual triumph, progress, or attainment. 
 God forbid ! each has its own specific worth, and its rela- 
 tive worth also, as we trust, an evidence of a measure of 
 sanctification of the will ; but the sanctification of the 
 will itself, that inner root work in the very depth and 
 mystery of our being, is the great point of all. This is 
 fountain work, and lo ! the streams will fiow as clear as 
 crystal ; this is root work, and lo ! the flowers and fruits 
 will bloom and ripen to perfection ; this is heart work, 
 and lo ! the whole system will partake of the health of 
 the vital organ — ^a sanctified will is the very kernel of 
 spiritual life. 
 
 Let us, with all reverence, ponder a while the human 
 will of our blessed Lord ; and then bethink us of our 
 own wills, alas ! so unlike His ; but yet capable of 
 being made like thereto, by the gracious influences of 
 the Holy Ghost. 
 
 Jesus Christ commenced, passed through, and ended 
 His life with a sanctified human will. 
 
 Our Lord, as being in all points like unto us, with the 
 
336 
 
 THE WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 exception of sin^ had a true human will ; it was^ I 
 suppose, in no particular different from our wills, with 
 this exception, that it was ever sanctified, even from the 
 womb — that it never had any bias towards the commis- 
 sion of evil, or rebellion against God. I believe that 
 Jesus, the second man, had the same free will that Adam, 
 the first man, had in Paradise ; and if He had not that 
 free will, I do not see how He could have been tempted 
 in all points,'" like unto ourselves. If He had so willed 
 it. He might have cast Himself down from the pinnacle 
 of the temple ; or commanded the stones to be made 
 bread ; or have refused the bitter cup of Gethsemaue, 
 and the bitter anguish of Calvary. What the conse- 
 quences of His so doing would have been, so far as we 
 are concerned, we can easily see ; all we desire to say is, 
 that such things might have been done. Christ was 
 born with a real, but a sinless human will. 
 
 And we find the blessed Saviour living in a perfect 
 sanctification of this human will ; we have indications in 
 Scripture of how this holy will interpenetrated His 
 whole life ; it was a part of His very being, therefore 
 its actings were everywhere to be found. Let us gather 
 up some of the Scripture teachings which we have con- 
 cerning it. 
 
 In John iv. He is represented to us as sitting upon 
 Jacob's well, weary with His journey. While there, all 
 weary as he was. He enters into conversation with the 
 Samaritan woman, penetrating her conscience, enlight- 
 ening her mind, and enunciating in His declaration of 
 God's intense spirituality, one of the highest forms of 
 spiritual truth. His disciples come to Him, and bringing 
 provisions with them, pray Him, saying, Master, eat,'" 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 337 
 
 But He said unto them, I have meat to eat that ye 
 know not of. Therefore said the disciples one to another, 
 Hath any man brought Him aught to eat ? Jesus saith 
 unto them. My meat is to do the will of Him that sent 
 me, and to finish His work.'' The Lord does here, what 
 He does on so many occasions, take a passing word or 
 fact, and either grounds upon it or teaches from it some 
 wondrous truth. Whilst the disciples thought of nothing 
 but the lower need of hunger, Jesus felt the higher need 
 of hungering after the fulfillment of His Father's will, in 
 the enlightening of a soul ; while they thought of no 
 means of supplying hunger but by bread. He discerned a 
 higher nourishment, the fulfillment of His Father's will. 
 
 Now how was it meat to Jesus, to fulfill His Father's 
 will ? We can easily imagine His being silent in doing 
 that will, but not so easily. His being nourished therein. 
 We can learn something on this point from our own 
 experiences. When we work out the determinations of 
 our own evil wills, do Ave not thereby confirm and 
 strengthen those wills in evil ? do we not nourish them 
 for becoming stronger to will fresh evil ? and is it not 
 thus that sinners become ever harder and more con- 
 firmed in sin ? Our will strengthens itself by its own 
 acts, just as the banyan tree, which drops its branches 
 to the ground, and forms from each branch a stem, in- 
 creases itself, by the spending of its energies. And hence 
 is it not a marvel of grace, that the evil will, Avhich we 
 have so stengthened, and fed, from earliest youth, should 
 be controlled, and overruled, and actually changed, by 
 the influences of the Holy Ghost ? Jesus' holy will was 
 nourished by its own acts, yet was it perfect even from 
 the beginning, just as Adam's body fed upon the fruits of 
 
 15 
 
338 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 Paradise^ though it came perfect from its maker^s hands. 
 There is a sustaining power in holy action, when that 
 action is the result of sanctified will ; and that sustain- 
 ing power was enjoyed hy Jesus, as the man Christ 
 J esus, with a perfect human will ; He had it as a natural 
 consequence, and thus, as in many other ways, it was 
 meat to Him to do His Father's will. Thus much 
 appears to us to be upon the surface ; the depths of the 
 mystery of the interpenetration of Christ's human will, 
 hy the Father's divine will, we presume not to attempt 
 to sound. 
 
 Although we sliall have to consider specifically our 
 own wills, a little farther on ; yet we must not leave 
 these various Scripture indications of Christ's will, with- 
 out drawing from them what instruction we can for our- 
 selves ; for He, the man Christ Jesus, must he our 
 teacher and example in the matter of the human will, 
 as in all else. 
 
 Now (1.) what kind of a will have we been nourish- 
 ing ? Has the reader been simply gratifying his own 
 will ; has he, by every act, been confirming himself in 
 selfishness, in obstinacy, in such like sins, or has he 
 been nourishing a will in unison with God's will, by 
 holy obedience, after the example of His Lord ? Ec- 
 member that if your acts fiow forth from your will, they 
 react upon that will also. And this is how many per- 
 sons are lost ; by carrying out their wills in acts of 
 worldliness and fieshliness, those wills become stronger 
 and stronger against God, and stronger and stronger for 
 the service of Satan. Of course divine interferences can 
 do anything with a man ; but this is the legitimate 
 result. Well might the will of the flesh, and of man, be 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 339 
 
 set aside by the apostle, when he tells us who are the 
 sons of God. But as many as received Him, to them 
 gave He power to become the* sons of God, even to 
 them that believe on His name, which were born not of 
 blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, 
 but of God John i. 12, 13. 
 
 Does not this show us (2.) the immense importance 
 of a holy life ? We complain of the strength of our evil 
 wills — alas ! have not we ourselves fed them ? We 
 complain of the weakness of our good wills ; alas ! have 
 not we ourselves starved them ? We are as much bound 
 to nourish the life of a holy will, given to us of the 
 spirit, as we are to nourish the life of the body ; we, 
 like Jesus, should have meat to eat which the world 
 knows not of. 
 
 And in truth, this meat would nourish us in a 
 wonderful way ; we should rise above the world ; we 
 should become a mystery perhaps to our very own, as 
 the Lord did to His disciples. A life for God has not its 
 influences confined simply to the judgment day, it is a 
 mighty engine acting upon our own characters, pene- 
 trating, I am persuaded, even to having reflex effect 
 upon our wills. Alas ! how profoundly do we, by 
 writing such things, shame ourselves, but this we be- 
 lieve to be the truth. 
 
 Mark also, how this sanctified will entered into 
 Christ's pursuit in life. In John v. 30, He tells us, 
 seek not mine own will, but the will of the Father 
 which hath sent me.'" The one absorbing aim of life_ 
 with Jesus was the performance of His Father's will ; 
 He did not merely take up that will when it crossed His 
 
340 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 path, but He pursued it. He went about doing good.’^ 
 His life was one long labor in fulfilling His Father's 
 will. And in this pursuit, we can easily perceive, how 
 many opportunities there were, for the giving up of the 
 mere natural will to the higher will of the Father, as 
 evidenced in the path which He plainly outstretched 
 before His Son. The human will of Jesus would never 
 have led Him to the temptation of the desert — never to 
 fastings and reproaches ; He would as naturally have 
 shrunk from these things as ourselves. And He could 
 have shrunk from them. He might have retired into 
 private life ; He might have shunned the contradiction 
 of sinners," but He must pursue His father's will, 
 whenever it was to be done ; and so, forth He came 
 again and again in His self-denying ministry to 
 man. The energy of the divine will was seen in His 
 Avill to pursue Grod's work, whenever it was to be 
 done. 
 
 Alas ! here also we have to feel profoundly the 
 difference between our Lord and us. What sought He ? 
 What seek we ? What know we of the energy of pur- 
 suit, in doing the will of Grod ? Do we not seek our own 
 wills, even though we be so far sanctified as to yield to 
 God's will, when He shows it ? It is a solemn inquiry ; 
 Whose will do I pursue? 
 
 Then mark the affections of our Lord, We are told 
 in Mark iii. that His brethren and mother (after the 
 flesh) came and sought him ; and when the multitude 
 told Him of it, He said, Who is my mother, or my 
 brethren And He looked round about on them which 
 sat about Him, and said, Behold my mother, and my 
 brethren ! For whosoever shall do the will of God, the 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 341 
 
 same is my brother^ and my sister^ and mother.'' Mere 
 human affection would have centred the heart's long- 
 ings upon the relatives after the flesh ; Jesus, in fulness 
 of union with the will of His Father, saw in the per- 
 formers of this will, those who were by the law of 
 spiritual affinity nearest relatives to Himself; ^^the 
 same," said He, ^^ismy brother, and sister, and mother." 
 Jesus did not ignore the relationships of earth, but He 
 showed that the truest and highest relationship was not 
 that of the flesh, but of the Spirit, and men were to take 
 place according to their spirit life, in fulfilling the will 
 of God. 
 
 It is a comfortable thought that there will be recog- 
 nition for brethren and sisters — for those who carry out 
 the will of God in the bold actings of manhood ; and 
 those who carry it out in the tender sympathies of 
 womanhood ; yea, for such as are mothers to the weak 
 ones of Christ's church, servers of the least of the 
 brethren of Jesus, and so doing unto Him. Here our 
 Lord lets us into the secret of how interwoven into His 
 heart, was the desire for the performance of His Father's 
 will. There is something more than the judgment that 
 it is the best that can be done ; something more than 
 the stern determination that it shall be done ; there is 
 the fact that all His sympathies are wrapped up in 
 those who do it ; in thus doing the will, they and He 
 are in close relationship. How perfect must have been 
 the sanctification of Christ's will, when it thus over- 
 passes all the claims of nature, and institutes a new 
 relationship, in which all depends upon doing the Avill 
 of God. 
 
 It will surely be worth our while to ask ourselves. 
 
342 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 whether we, in our daily life, are admitting the existence 
 of this relationship. Are we swallowed up in the self- 
 ishness of earthly wife and child love ? have we a heart 
 only for our kith and kin ? is the tie of blood everything 
 to us ? There’s many a one that would rather give £1000 
 to a thirty-fifth cousin after the flesh, than to a brother 
 or sister in the Lord. Surely either the spiritual relation- 
 ship does not exist at all, or wo have not as yet arrived 
 at Christ’s method of estimating such relationship ; we 
 do not love on the same principle as He did. Let us 
 remember, how precious in His eyes were those who did 
 the will of His Father ; precious, from the power of 
 sympathy ; and may such be precious in our eyes also. 
 But we cannot now enlarge on this ; the point which we 
 must now especially note, is the amazing worth of His 
 Father’s will in His eyes, seeing that its performance by 
 others involved even relationship with Himself. 
 
 Yet once again : let us look at the Saviour' s jo]]. We 
 know what His portion was on earth ; sorrow and dis- 
 tress of every kind ; it was the fulfilment of the prophe- 
 cy which went before, that He should be a man of 
 sorrows and acquainted with grief,” but He was not des- 
 titute of joy ; only His joy, like His food, was such as 
 the world knew not of. What that joy was, we find in 
 Ps. xl. 8, I delight to do Thy will, 0 my God, yea. 
 Thy law is within my heart.” And this was indeed our 
 Lord’s joy, through a world which, so far as its pleasures 
 were concerned, was a joyless world to Him. That 
 which excited the hopes and expectations of the young, 
 liad no excitement for Him ; that which moved the 
 mirth of the joyous and the gay, won no smile from 
 Him ; earth’s sins and sorrows lay too heavily upon His 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 343 
 
 heart for any of its joys to sparkle there. We are told 
 He wept^ we never read that he laughed. But J esus 
 was not without joy ; He had joy over the one sinner 
 that repented^ He had joy over every pang of suffering 
 that He removed — over every tear that He caught and 
 dried up ere it fell — over the great prospects of the 
 victory of holiness^ which lay before Him in His death. 
 He was the revealer, as well as the doer of the Father's 
 will, and when do we find Him rejoicing, what is it that 
 excites His joy ? (Luke x. 21.) In that hour Jesus 
 rejoiced in spirit, and said, I thank Thee, 0 Father, Lord 
 of heaven and earth, that Thou hast hid these things 
 from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto 
 babes ; even so. Father ; for so it seemed good in Thy 
 sight. All things are delivered to Me of My Father ; 
 and no man knoweth who the Son is, but the Father ; 
 and who the Father is, but the Son, and he to whom 
 the Son will reveal Him. Even so. Father, for so it 
 seemed good in Thy sight" — that was God's will ; and 
 then Jesus declares how He carried out that will ; and 
 therein He found His joy. 
 
 These are some of the scripture indications of how 
 Jesus was one with the Father, in the perfect sanctifi- 
 cation of His will. 
 
 At last the time came for Christ to die ; then it was 
 that He spake the words, which above all others shew 
 us the subjection of His will, He went forward a little 
 and fell on the ground, and prayed that, if it were pos- 
 sible, the hour might pass from Him ; and He said, 
 Abba, Father, all things are possible unto Thee, take 
 away this cup from me, nevertheless, not what I will, 
 but what Thou wilt Mark xiv. 35, 36. 
 
344 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 Let us^ with deep reverence, contemplate for a while 
 the action, and yet the abnegation, of this human will 
 of Christ. 
 
 When our Lord says, Not what I will,'' He doubt- 
 less referred to His human will ; that which He had as 
 the man Christ J esus ; that which, in His true humanity. 
 He has in common with us. This will was now in 
 natural action ; in no otherwise than yours and mine 
 would have been, under similar circumstances, shrinking 
 from agony and death, and that death a death of shame. 
 To Jesus, such a death involved much more than it 
 could possibly have done to you or me, had we been led 
 to the cross, but it was the human will that shrank 
 from all the suffering. 
 
 Now," says Bishop Hall, before these eyes, this 
 Sun begins to be over-cast with clouds ; He began to be 
 sorrowful and very heavy ; Many sad thoughts, for man- 
 kinde, had He secretly hatched, and yet smothered in 
 his owne brest, now. His griefe is too great to keep in ; 
 My soule is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death : O 
 Saviour, what must Thou needes feele, when Thou saidst 
 so ? Feeble minds are apt to bemone themselves upon 
 light occasions ; the griefe must needs be violent that 
 causeth a strong heart to break forth into passionate 
 complaint ; Wo is Me ; what a word is this for the Son 
 of God ? where is that Comforter, which Thou promisedst 
 to send to others ? where is that Thy Father of all 
 mercies, and God of all comfort ; in whose presence is 
 the fulnesse of joy, and at whose right hand there are 
 pleasures for evermore ? where are those constant and 
 cheerful resolutions of a fearelesse walking through the 
 valley of the shadow of death ? Alas ! if that face were 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 345 
 
 not hid from Thee, whose essence could not be disunited ; 
 these pangs could not have beene ; the Sun was with- 
 drawne a while that there might be a coole, though not a 
 dark night, as in the world, so in Thy brest, withdrawne, 
 in respect of sight, not of being ; it was the hardest part 
 of Thy suiferings that Thou must be disconsolate. Every 
 one of these words is both sharpe and edged ; My soule 
 is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death ; what humane 
 soule is capable of the conceit of the least of those sor- 
 rows that oppressed Thine ? It was not Thy body that 
 suifered now : the paine of body is but as the body of 
 paine ; the anguish of the soule is as the soule of 
 anguish. That, and in that Thou sulferedst ; where 
 are they that dare so far disparage Thy sorrow, as to 
 say Thy soule suffered only in sympathy with Thy body; 
 not immediately, but by participation ; not in its selfe, 
 but in its partnere ? Thou best knewest what Thou 
 felfst, and Thou that felFst Thine own paine, can'st cry 
 out of Thy soule. Neither didst Thou say. My soule is 
 troubled ; so it often was, even to teares ; but My soule 
 is sorrowfull ; as if it had been before assaulted ; now 
 possessed with griefe. Nor yet this in any tolerable 
 moderation ; changes of passion are incident to every 
 humane soule, but exceeding sorrowful. Yet, there are 
 degrees in the very extremities of evils ; those that are 
 most vehement, may yet be capable of a remedy, at 
 least, a relaxation ; Thine was past these hopes ; ex- 
 ceeding sorrowfull unto death. 
 
 What was it ? What could it be ? 0 Saviour, that 
 lay thus heavy upon Thy Divine soule ? Was it the 
 feare of death ? Was it the fore-felt paine, shame, 
 torment of Thine ensuing crucifixion ? Oh ! poore and 
 
 15 * 
 
346 
 
 THE <‘1 WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 base thoughts of the narrow hearts of cowardly and 
 impotent mortality ! How many thousands of Thy bles- 
 sed martyrs have welcomed no lesse tortures with 
 smiles and gratulations ? And have made a sport 
 of those exquisite cruelties, which their very tyrans 
 thought unsufferable ? Whence had they this strength 
 but from Thee ? If their weaknesse were this un- 
 daunted and prevalent, what was Thy power ? No ! No ! 
 it was the sad weight of the sinne of mankind ; it was 
 the heavy burden of Thy Father's wrath for our sin that 
 thus pressed Thy soule, and wrung from Thee those 
 bitter expressions. 
 
 What can it availe Thee, 0 Saviour, to tell Thy 
 griefe to men ? Who can ease Thee but He of whom 
 Thou saidst, ^ My Father is greater than I ?' loe ! to 
 Him Thou turnest : ^0 Father, if it be possible, let 
 this cup passe from mee." 
 
 Was not this that prayer (0 deare Christ) which 
 in the days of Thy flesh Thou offeredst up with strong 
 crying and teares, to Him that was able to save Thee 
 from death ? Surely this was it ; never was cry so 
 strong ; never was God thus solicited. How could 
 heaven choose but shake at such a prayer from the 
 power that made it ? How can my heart but tremble 
 to heare this suite from the Captaine of our salvation ? 
 0 Thou that saidst, and my Father are one,' dost 
 Thou suffer ought from Thy Father but what Thou 
 wouldest — what Thou determinest ? Was this cup of 
 Thine either casual, or forced ? Wouldst Thou wish 
 for what Thou knewest Thou wouldst not have pos- 
 sible ? Farre, farre be these mis-raised thoughts of 
 our ignorance and frailty ; Thou cam'st to suffer, and 
 
THE “1 WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 347 
 
 Tliou wouldst do what Thou earnest for ; yet, since 
 Thou wouldst be a man, Thou wouldst lake all of man, 
 save sin. It is but humane (and not sinfull) to be 
 loath to suffer what we may avoid ; in this velleity of 
 Thine, Thou wouldest shew what that nature of ours, 
 which Thou hadst assumed, could incline to wish ; 
 but in Thy resolution Thou wouldst show us what 
 Thy victorious thoughts raised and assisted by Thy 
 Divine power, had determinately pitched upon ; never- 
 thelesse, ^ not as I will, but as Thou wilt.' As man 
 Thou hadst a wille of thine owne ; no humane soule 
 can be perfect without that maine faculty ; that will, 
 which naturally could be content to incline towards 
 an exemption from miseries ; gladly vailes to that 
 Divine will, whereby thou art designed to the chastise- 
 ments of our peace ; those paines, which in themselves 
 were grievous, Thou embracest as decreed ; so as Thy 
 feare hath given place to Thy love and obedience. How 
 should wee have knowne these evills so formidable, if 
 Thou hadst not in halfe a thought inclined to depre- 
 cate them ? How could we have avoided so formidable 
 and deadly evills, if Thou hadst not willingly undergone 
 them ? We acknowledge Thine holy feare ; we adore 
 Thy Divine fortitude." 
 
 And this will was also in sinless action ^ — there was 
 no sin in that shrinking ; it was a purely natural act ; 
 had there been the smallest speck of sin in it, it would 
 have made Jesus unfit for sacrifice — He would then 
 have been a spotted and blemished lamb. 
 
 And hence may we not gather, with what eye God 
 looks upon our shrinkings, albeit we be prepared that 
 in us His great will should be carried out ? We have 
 
348 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 such shrinkings — they are the natural and sinless mo- 
 tions of our very nature ; sin begins when our will 
 must have its own way — when it will not put itself at 
 the disposal of God’s will — when, perhaps even worse, 
 it will not succumb to the pressure of it. Now the 
 Father never had to bring pressure to bear upon the 
 will of Christ ; that will was ever at the disposal of the 
 Father’s will ; it acknowledged its existence, what I 
 will,” but it held itself at the Father’s command — not 
 what I will, but what Thou wilt.” We may have shrink- 
 ings without sin ; obedient^ not unfeeling^ human nature 
 is what God desires. The very shrinkings of Jesus 
 formed, no doubt, an ingredient in His cup of suffering 
 — they were a part of the dark valley of death — they 
 were almost the first pangs of His now present disso- 
 lution. He was to be taken as a human sacrifice ; 
 therefore, with all that belonged to sinless humanity, 
 its shrinkings, and all beside. 
 
 ' Ah ! what heart shrinkings and flesh shrinkings 
 we have, when times of trial draw near : shall we say 
 that God is angry with us because of them — that He 
 counts them sin ? I do not think so ; I believe He 
 pities us in them, and sends us some messenger to 
 strengthen us ; He knoweth whereof we are made 
 ^^Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord 
 pitieth them that fear Him a consecrated will, and 
 yet a shrinking will, may exist in one and the same 
 person. Truly God is no hard God, waiting for an 
 opportunity to strike, but patient and gentle ; He en- 
 courages our wills, so that we also are taught to say 
 with our Lord, ^^Nevertheless, not as I will, but as 
 Thou wilt.” 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 349 
 
 We may pause for a moment to ask what this hu- 
 man will of Jesus could have done apart from the will 
 of the Father ? It could have willed not to suffer — it 
 could have willed this sinlessly ; had Jesus pleased to 
 surrender the salvation of the worlds what was there to 
 hinder Him ? hut His will and the Father's were one 
 for atonement — so He died. 
 
 It may he that we can easily understand how the 
 will of Jesus suffered a rude assault in Grethsemanej and 
 perhaps also on Calvary ; and possibly we think^ that 
 the trial, though quick and sharp, was soon over ; but 
 His will had other trials beside these. 
 
 This sanctified will of Jesus met Avith opposition, 
 Avhere, humanly speaking, we should have least expected 
 it, {. e., in the bosom of His own family — the ajAOstolic 
 band. Then Peter took Him, and began to rebuke 
 Him, saying, be it far from Thee, Lord : this shall not be 
 unto Thee ; but He turned, and said unto Peter, get thee 
 behind Me, Satan ; thou art an offence unto Me ; for thou 
 savorest not the things that be of God, but those that 
 be of men Matt. xvi. 22, 23. Now, these Avere very 
 sharp words to utter to a zealous and beloved disciple, 
 whose only apparent feeling was deep sympathy Avith 
 his Lord — a love too great to hear Him talk of suffering 
 and death, without being moved. Such Avords had 
 ncA^er before fallen from the lips of J esus towards any 
 one of His apostles, nor had they been said even to the 
 Avorst of His adversaries ; the nearest approach to them, 
 being Avhat Ave find in John viii., Avhere He says to the 
 cavilling Jews, Ye are of your father the Devil, and 
 the lusts of your father you Avill do." 
 
 There must haA^e been a profound depth of sin in 
 
350 
 
 THE ‘a WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 Peter's remonstrance with his Lord^ to call forth this 
 indignant rebuke"^ — the like of which we do not find in the 
 jDrevious history of Jesus ; no^ nor afterwards, when in 
 the upper chamber, He held forth His pierced hands to 
 the doubting Thomas ; nor yet, when from the discovered 
 radiance of another world. He spake to the i:)ersecuting 
 Saul. Such being the case, we may expect something 
 more than ordinary in these verses, which exhibit Jesus 
 in an attitude so energetic, and Peter in a character so 
 dark ; and in truth we shall not be disappointed, for 
 through the instrumentality of an apostle, the wicked 
 one here ventures very close to Christ, presuming to try 
 to interfere with, and to unsanctify His will, and endeav- 
 oring by the hand and voice of friendship to arrest the 
 salvation of man. It is true that the apostle was per- 
 sonally guilty ; he had mingled selfishness with love ; he 
 could not part with his visions of worldly power which 
 he still entertained, and which made him believe that he 
 should receive great temporal things from the Christ the 
 Son of the living God ; he was under the darkness and 
 the sin of an earthly heart ; but it was not earthliness 
 alone that was rebuked ; it was also misguided affection 
 — Satanic will hidden under the mask of human love — 
 a temptation which was calculated to be a peculiar 
 hindrance to the great work which the Saviour was to 
 do. We know that as a man, the Lord shrank from 
 death ; and now, when the voice of love Avithout strength- 
 ened the feelings of the heart within, Christ saw a pecu- 
 liar manifestation of the Devil, and rebuked it in these 
 fearful words. The words of Peter, when looked at in 
 the original, seemed to throw yet further light upon this 
 matter. We can scarce imagine, that however bold the 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION, 
 
 351 
 
 apostle might have been^ he would have presumed to 
 rebuke the Lord in the way in which one man rebukes 
 another. After all the displays of Christ's power which 
 he had witnessed^ we can hardly think of his having 
 ventured so far; nor did he ; the words used imply ^^an 
 affectionate chiding." And Peter took Him, and began 
 affectionately to chide Him, saying, ^Pity Thyself,'(mark 
 here the disturbing influence brought to bear upon 
 Christ's will,) this shall not be unto Thee. Then Christ 
 turned and said unto Peter, Gret thee behind Me, Satan, 
 adversary, thou art an offence, an obstacle unto Me, 
 thou art not well affected to the things of God, but to 
 those that be of men." 
 
 Let us suppose for a moment that Peter had been 
 altogether untinged with any earthly aim ; that he 
 scorned all worldly advancement, that he was even at 
 that very moment ready to shed his blood for Christ — 
 that he would have stamped the gold of an earthly 
 crown to jiowder beneath his feet — that he had altogether 
 forgotten ^ self in J esus ; even though it were thus, what 
 mistaken kindness was it to endeavor to hold back the 
 Lord from the accomplishment of His high aim — an aim 
 which involved at once our salvation and His glory, and 
 to attain which, suffering must be undergone. The 
 executioner that nailed the hands of Jesus to the accursed 
 tree, the soldier who pierced His tender side, the scoffing 
 rabble who railed upon and cursed Him — array all these 
 together, and not one of them was such an adversary 
 to Jesus as the apostle who said to Him, ^^Pity 
 Thyself ; this shall not be mnto Thee." 
 
 Thus was Jesus's holy will tried severely — we have 
 seen what that will was able to do in itself, now let us 
 
352 
 
 THE ‘ I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 look at it for a moment in connection with the will of 
 the Father. What position did it occupy with refer- 
 ence to that ? It was a will not overruled by necessity, 
 (as ours, alas ! too often is,) but drawn with all human 
 shrinkings into perfect unison with the Father's. There is 
 no reason for supposing that Jesus ever lost any of His 
 shrinkings from death ; Heremainedtheman Christ Jesus 
 to the very end ; and it was the triumph of His holy will, 
 that it entered even with all flesh- shrinkings into the 
 will of God. It is not sin in us, nor is it the least dete- 
 rioration from the purity of our will, to carry our flesh- 
 shrinkings into our trials with us ; the spirit maybe 
 willing and the flesh be weak — excision of feeling is by 
 no means essential to sanctiflcation of the will. What 
 comfort does this apply to some, whose natural man is 
 faint, but whose spiritual man is strong in time of trial. 
 
 And now, before we turn from this contemplation of 
 Christ's will, let us obserVe where these words were 
 spoken — in Gethsemane — Gethsemane was the place of 
 truest and greatest conflict ; it was the last place of trial 
 and decision ; it was with human shrinkings, but no 
 longer with an expressing human will that Jesus went to 
 Calvary. It is flnished" might have been said in one 
 sense, in the garden, as well as on the -cross. We too 
 have our place and time of decision, often preliminary 
 to that of suffering ; thrice happy are we if we pass as 
 victors out of the first conflict into the second, victorious 
 in the second conflict, because we have been victorious 
 in the first. 
 
 We descend now from this higher subject of Christ's 
 will ; concerning which we write with great restraint, as 
 
THE “I WILL’’ OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 353 
 
 being one too high for us to venture far into, down to man's 
 will, a subject with which we are alas ! only too familiar 
 in its dark aspects of waywardness, unconsecration, and 
 selfishness. What darker subject of contemplation can 
 any man have, than his own will ? And yet, the subject 
 is, we trust not altogether full of gloom ; are there not 
 some streaks of light ? Yea, perhaps it may be said of 
 the reader, that even though it be only as a twilight, 
 still there is ^pervading light, which shall shiiie more 
 and more unto the perfect day ? Now, first, what is the 
 condition of our wills by nature ? We have inherited 
 sinful wills, and one part of the sinfulness consists in 
 our very self-will, our standing out for independence — 
 our saying, Who is lord over us.^^" we will be lord 
 unto ourselves. The Devil tempted man to indepen- 
 dence, For Grod doth know that in the day ye eat 
 thereof then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be 
 as gods, knowing good and evil : Gen. hi. 5, and that 
 independence is now the main characteristic of the 
 natural will. The pride of the natural heart will hear 
 of no subjection ; its own will must be its law. 
 
 In disowning God's will as a rule, we disown all 
 those attributes which flow from His will, as goodness, 
 righteousness, and truth. As an act of the Divine 
 understanding is supposed to precede the act of the 
 Divine will ; so we slight the infinite reason of God. 
 Every law, though it proceed from the will of the law- 
 giver, and doth formally consist in an act of His will, 
 yet it doth presuppose an act of the understanding. If 
 the commandment be holy, just, and good, as it is, 
 (Eom. vii. 12,) if it be the image of God's holiness, a 
 transcript of His righeousness, and the efflux of His 
 
354 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 goodness ; then^ in every breach of it^ dirt is cast upon 
 those attributes which shine in it, and a slight of all the 
 regards He hath to His own honor, and all the pro- 
 visions He makes for His creation."'^*'' 
 
 It was not so in Adam when he was created ; it was 
 not so in the sinless man Christ Jesus ; it is so in us ; 
 we begin our life with a will contrary to the will of 
 God. If we were only to sin, when drawn into it by 
 grievous temptation, bad as our case would be, it would 
 be good compared with what it is now ; for now man 
 sins out of an ingrained evil will, pervading his whole 
 life, and cursing him more or less in every act. His 
 depraved will, is a law within him which is contrary to 
 the law of God. And this will is not something that 
 can be idle ; its very nature is activity ; it is the great 
 impulsive power of our nature ; it sets all else in motion 
 to accomplish its determinations ; it must of necessity 
 keep up a continual rebellion against God. 
 
 We make an idol of our own wills,'' says Char- 
 nock, ^^and as much as self is exalted, God is deposed ; 
 the more we esteem our own wills, the more we en- 
 deavor to annihilate the will of God ; account nothing 
 of Him, the more we account of ourselves ; and endea- 
 vor to render ourselves His superiors, by exalting our 
 own wills. No prince but would look upon his authority 
 as invaded, his royalty derided, if a subject should 
 resolve to be a law to himself, in opposition to his 
 known will ; true piety is to hate ourselves, deny our- 
 selves, and cleave solely to the service of God. To 
 make ourselves our own rule, and the object of our 
 chiefest love, is atheism. If self-denial be the greatest 
 
 * “ Charnock on the Divine Attributes.” — Art. Practical Atheism. 
 
THE ‘‘I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 355 
 
 part of godliness^ the great letter in the alphabet of 
 religion ; self-love is the great letter in the alphabet of 
 practical atheism. Self-love is so far from 
 
 bending to the righteous will of the Creator^ that it 
 would have the eternal will of God stoop to the humor 
 and unrighteous will of a creature ; and this is the 
 ground of contention between the flesh and the spirit 
 in the heart of a renewed man ; flesh wars for the god- 
 head of self, and spirit flghts for the godhead of God ; 
 the one would settle the throne of the Creator, and the 
 other maintain a law of covetousness, ambition, envy, 
 lust, in the stead of God.'' 
 
 In connexion with the last days of Jesus' life, wherein 
 we And His holy will submissive to the will of His 
 Father, we And a horrible development of the will of 
 man. We are told in Luke xxiii. 25, that Pilate de- 
 livered Jesus to their will. He who was, so to speak, 
 the very incarnation of the will of God, is put into the 
 power of the will of man, and how does that will act ? 
 It develops itself in hatred to the light, quenching the 
 beams which shone upon it, determining to kill Jesus at 
 any cost. It stops the warning voice, which should 
 have been all the more powerful as coming from a 
 heathen's lips, Shall I crucify your king It wreaks 
 its vengeance on Christ ; a vengeance long stored up, a 
 vengeance connected with the thwarting of its will, by 
 the whole life and teaching of the Lord. The will of 
 man was capable of doing this dreadful deed long 
 before ; it was ever seeking the way to work out this 
 deadly will, but the restraining hand of the Lord was 
 upon it, it could do nothing until that restraint was 
 removed. 
 
356 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 And have we not here a doleful suggestion as to 
 what the will of man will be in hell ? All its activity 
 will remain in full force, and the restraint now on it 
 will be taken away. Oh ! what a horrible prospect is 
 thus in store for the lost. Oh ! what must it be to 
 dwell for ever amongst unrestrained evil wills ; there 
 are few more fearful subjects than that of ^Hhe activities 
 of hell 
 
 It is to this now unrestrained will, that Jesus is de- 
 livered ; everything in the way of reason, justice, and 
 thought, is overborne ; man's wicked will works out its 
 own desire to the uttermost, and Jesus dies. 
 
 And after all, what have we here.^ is it anything 
 strange or unnatural ? No ! it is only the full natural 
 development of an evil will. This is what we have in 
 us ; our will, if left to work out its evil bent, would 
 crucify the Son of Grod afresh, and put Him to an open 
 shame. 
 
 But it is earnestly hoped that the reader is not 
 altogether under the power of an evil will, that he 
 knows something of the work of sanctification upon 
 that will ; so that in the matter of his will, as of all else, 
 he feels, I am not mine own, I am bought with a 
 price, therefore I must glorify Grod with my body and 
 my spirit which are His." 
 
 It is to the subject of the condition of ourivill during 
 the 'process of sanctification^ that we must now turn for 
 awhile. 
 
 The will of man undergoes a progressive change. We 
 do not by any means come into immediate conformity 
 with the will of God in all things, when we embrace 
 
THE ‘a WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 357 
 
 the cross^ and are washed in the justifying blood of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ. Sore disaj)pointinent does this cause 
 to many true hearted beginners in the Divine life ; they 
 thought that the blood of Jesus would immediately 
 make them holy in themselves, even as it certainly 
 made them accepted before Grod, but lo ! even after con- 
 version they found self-will, and that self-will in direct 
 opposition sometimes to the will of Q-od. At times, this 
 will showed itself by refusing to go with the will of 
 God ; and at times, by wanting to go in a course diame- 
 trically opposed to it. But no matter how it showed 
 itself ; it was an un sane titled will, and acted simply out 
 of its own nature, as such. 
 
 Does not Satan often perplex, and sorely cast down 
 young believers, by arguing upon this their as yet un- 
 tutored will ? Does he not tell them that they cannot 
 bo the children of God — that they cannot have received 
 Christ in love — that it is all a make-believe of grace 
 with them ? We know he often argues thus, and almost 
 succeeds in drawing poor, weak, and young believers, 
 down into the very depths of despair. Would that 
 such could see, how that even in the most advanced 
 believers — old grey-headed saints — there is still a pro- 
 gressive work going on with reference to the will ; they 
 would then know that this is no strange thing which is 
 happening to them ; they would not be surj)rised, at not 
 being, even at the beginning of their course, perfect in 
 that which is the very last thing to bo perfected in the 
 saints of God. 
 
 Our will by no means . succumbs willingly and all at 
 once. Is it natural that it should do so ? After having 
 had all its own way for so long a time, is it accord- 
 
358 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 ing to the usual order of things, that it should enter 
 upon a new arrangement, in which it becomes, as it 
 were, nothing, with willingness ? The reason may be 
 convinced, the affection may be won ; and yet the evil 
 will want to work out its own desires ; and hence come 
 some of those fierce strifes, and rendings of the inner 
 man, which make the believer cry, 0 wretched man 
 that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this 
 death Kom. vii. 24. Surely all of us, who know any- 
 thing of the Divine life, have felt, that reason has not 
 had power over the will ; our reason may have been 
 convinced, but the will was urging hither or thither, 
 irrespective of reason ! a new infiuence had to come in 
 — it was the power of the Holy Ghost — we were taught 
 that God's people shall be willing in the day of His 
 power. (Psa. cx. 3.) 
 
 To such as are aiming after this entire sanctification of 
 the will, a few words of caution may not be out of place. 
 
 Let us beware of mistaking ajoathy for active con- 
 sent to the Avill of God ; it is j)ossible to fall into the 
 fatalism of the Turk, while desiring to carry out the 
 highest life of the Christian. 
 
 The sanctification of the will has made but little 
 jji’ogress, if the utmost we have attained to be the 
 feeling ‘ we can't help it, and therefore, we may as well 
 make the best of it, and resign ourselves to the will of 
 God.' Might it not be well said, What thank is there 
 to you for that ? ^ You can't help it, and therefore you 
 are making the best of it,' i, e., you are treating the 
 will of God just as you would a bad debt ; you are 
 making a virtue of necessity. God knows the pressure 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 359 
 
 of the necessity, and He will not give such a one 
 credit for the virtue.'" There may be little or no dif- 
 ference between that man who struggles against God's 
 will, and the one who sulkily, or sleepily, or slavishly 
 lies down under it. Eesignation" is a word that is 
 greatly abused as regards moral position before God ; 
 in many a case, if it were paraphrased, it would run 
 thus : I don't rebel, for there's no use." Let us beware 
 of this kind of conformity of our will with God's will, 
 under circumstances of worldly loss, and especially of 
 bereavement. We must aim not merely at a crushed 
 assent, but at a living consent with the will of our 
 Father that is in heaven, — we must try to enter indi- 
 vidually into the words we utter, Thy will be done 
 in earth as it is in heaven." Oh ! how little life of 
 the will" really exists in much of what we call resigna- 
 tion ; assent, and not consent, is the highest to which 
 we can attain. 
 
 The harmony of the human will is essential to God's 
 glory ; when this harmony does not exist, the service 
 is of constraint. Now constrained service is not what 
 God desires ; that He can have simply by the power 
 of the bridle, and the lash, keeping back or urging on 
 by irresistible force. This was the kind of service He 
 took out of Balaam ; this is what He unquestionably 
 takes out of many a one now ; it is not the service 
 claimed by a Father, but that exacted by a Lord. The 
 apostle shews us in 2 Cor. ix. 7, the kind of service in 
 which God delights — a willing service. Every man 
 according as he purposeth in his heart, so let him give ; 
 not grudgingly or of necessity, for God loveth a cheer- 
 ful giver." 
 
360 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 In our times of great bereavement let us be alive by 
 God’s grace, to the need of the harmony of our will 
 with the Divine will ; let us seek after the active 
 principle in our obedience ; there is rarely happiness in 
 mere resignation. 
 
 No doubt this is very^ very hard ; but the Holy 
 Spirit, who is the Sanctifier of our wills, can do this 
 for us ; thus we may become as sorrowful, yet always 
 rejoicing.” 
 
 And now, it will doubtless encourage us much to 
 seek this sanctification of the will, if we see plainly the 
 special advantage which we shall have from having our 
 will in unison with the will of God. 
 
 The harmony of our human with the Divine will, 
 will bring us calmness of mind. The rebellious element 
 of antagonism will he removed^ and we shall have 
 the peace of God which passeth all understanding. 
 When wind and tide are contrary to each other, then 
 the waves arise ; but when they go together, though the 
 tide be running strong and the wind be blowing fresh, 
 there are harmless riplets instead of angry waves. 
 
 Then, there will be less cause for chastening discipline. 
 We bring much chastening and corrective discipline 
 upon ourselves, in immediate connection with our wills. 
 We are not chastened because we did such and such 
 a thing, or left such and such a thing undone — the 
 doing, or the leaving undone were, we will allow, the 
 proper course of action ; it is with the spirit at work in 
 that course of action that God is dealing now ; many 
 a time is the child of God chastened for his will, and 
 not for his deed at all. 
 
 There is, however, another kind of discipline besides 
 
THE WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 361 
 
 that which is corrective, viz., instructive ; and this we 
 cannot under any circumstances hope to escape, — nor 
 indeed, should we wish so to do. The will cannot ad- 
 vance in sanctification without Divine dealings upon 
 it, and exercises of it — without its being crossed. The 
 crossing of our wills by providential dispensations and 
 teachings, draws out their inward corrujition ; it shews 
 us the evil that is within us ; it superinduces the ex- 
 ercise of struggling with the will ; it is in crossings of 
 the will that we learn to overcome the will. No mere 
 precept will accomplish this ; it can only be brought 
 about through the discipline of facts. And this will, 
 perhaps, account for many of the thwartings with 
 which we have met in our daily life ; we were under 
 instructive discipline, though we knew it not ; and hence, 
 perhaps it is, that some one trial has been continued 
 for a long time ; and that oftentimes, when we thought 
 we were upon the point of escaping from it, we were 
 put back and obliged to remain exactly where we were 
 before ; and hence, also, that the same trial assumed new 
 jfiiases, or complicated itself with other trials, or re- 
 turned after it seemed to have taken its departure for 
 ever. Our wills were being drilled — they were under 
 discipline — they were being taught the word of com- 
 mand. Watch the motions of a regiment on parade : 
 now they form in line, now in column ; now they are 
 broken up into sections ; at one moment they are 
 charging at the double, at the next they are standing 
 immovable in a square ; now the rifies discharge a 
 volley, now it is file-firing that falls upon the ear, as 
 up and down the fiashes run along the line. Here, we 
 see varied positions taken up in response to the will 
 
362 
 
 THE ‘a WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 of a single man ; and that which the men are being 
 taught is to give quick and precise obedience to that 
 will. What else are we being taught by the instructive 
 discipline of the Divine dealing with these too wayward 
 wills of ours ? 
 
 But to return to the special advantage of having our 
 will in unison with the will of God ; this will give us 
 calmness of mind under changes of providential ar- 
 rangement, Man never continueth in one stay ; when 
 we have settled down into comfortable conformity with 
 the will of God in some one position^ we think we 
 are in conformity in everything ; then comes a change 
 of providential arrangement^ and it remains to be seen 
 whether the will be ready, not for some one obedience, 
 but for any which may be required. 
 
 It is highly possible that the mind may be so torn 
 with temptation, and the body so racked with anguish, 
 that all that can be done is to hold fast to the will of 
 God, come what may. But this is a great achievement. 
 With the afflictive dispensation comes the Satanic 
 temptation, and to hold unwavering to the will of God, 
 as the rule of our will, is the effect of its sanctification 
 by the Holy Ghost. 
 
 Let us look at two eminent children of God under 
 deeply afflictive circumstances, and see in each, the 
 sanctification of the will. 
 
 The first of these is Mrs. Fletcher, of Madeley. Her 
 change from the height of human happiness to the 
 depth of human misery was sudden ; it came upon her 
 when she was weakened with fever ; Satan took ad- 
 vantage of her state ; she seemed to lose all except a 
 close clinging to the will of God ; but in retaining this 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 363 
 
 she kept — how much ! We turn to her journal for a 
 history of her trial. 
 
 For a good while past^ my dear husband has joined 
 with me in prayer in an uncommon manner. We are 
 led to offer ourselves to do and suffer all the will of God. 
 Something seems to tell me I must have more of the 
 bitter cup ; and these words are much to me, ^ That I 
 may stand in the evil day^ and having done all^ stand.' 
 My prayer is^ that the evil day may be before death — 
 not at the last. But Lord^ Thy will^ Thy whole Avill 
 be done. Certainly I have now scarce any cross. Thou 
 hast made my cup to run over ! Yea ! Thou hast made 
 me to forget all my sorrows. It seems as if I had never 
 suffered anything. There is not a comfort I can wish 
 for which I have not ; but Lord, I want more grace. 
 
 Oct. 25. — When I wrote last (J uly 26) I was in- 
 deed arrived at the summit of human felicity ! My cup 
 did indeed run over ! I often said, Lord, how is this ? 
 Am I indeed one of those of whom it is said, ^ These are 
 they who came out of great tribulation.' My way is 
 strewed with roses ; I am ready to say with Joseph, ^ The 
 Lord hath made me to forget all my afflictions, and all 
 my father’s house.' But oh ! how shall I write it ? on 
 the 14th of August, 1785, the dreadful moment came. 
 The sun of my earthly joys for ever set, and the cloud 
 arose which casts the sable on all my future life. At 
 half-past ten that Sabbath night, I closed the eyes of 
 my beloved ! What a change ! The whole creation 
 wears a new face to me. The posture of my mind at 
 this season I will not trust my memory to describe. 
 
 On the Tuesday before my love died, when those 
 words were applied to my mind, ^ Where I am, there 
 
364 
 
 THE WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 shall my servants be^ that they may behold my glory.^ 
 I felt such a j)ower in them, as seemed in a great degree 
 to take away the bitterness even of that dreadful cup. 
 ^ To behold my glory !' That thought would for mo- 
 ments swallow up all, and I seemed to lose myself in 
 the desire of His glory being manifested. But that 
 awful night ! when I had hung over my dear husband 
 for many hours expecting every breath to be his last, 
 and during which time he could not speak to, nor take 
 any notice of me, a flood of unspeakable sorrow over- 
 spread my heart, and quite overwhelmed my spirit. I 
 was scarcely in my senses ; and such a fear seized my 
 soul, lest I should say or do anything displeasing to the 
 Lord, that I was torn as it were a thousand ways at once. 
 
 My fatigue had been great. I Avas barely recovered 
 of my fever, and this stroke so tore my nerves, that it 
 was an inlet to much temptation. In former parts of my 
 life, I have felt deep soitoav; but such were now my feel- 
 ings, that no words I am able to think of can convey an 
 adequate idea thereof. The next morning, — 0, my Grod! 
 Avhat a cup didst Thou put into my hand ! Not only my 
 beloved husband, but it aj)peared to me my Saviour who 
 was torn from me ! Clouds and darkness surrounded 
 both soul and body ! The sins even of my infancy came 
 before me, and assaulted me as thick as hail ! I seemed 
 to have no love, no faith, no light — and yet I could not 
 doubt but I should see the smiling face of Grod in glory! 
 Yea, that heaven would terminate all my sufferings ! 
 There did not seem one doubt thrown at my Jinal salva- 
 tion. An unshaken belief that Christ would bring me 
 through all, Avas my great support ; and it seemed to 
 me that I must have been annihilated had I been moved 
 
THR “I WILL” OF SUBJEOTIOlSr. 
 
 365 
 
 from that anchor. No finite creature could have sup- 
 ported it. My agonized soul seemed to sweat blood, 
 and I felt the meaning of these words, ^ The pains of 
 hell gat hold upon me !' What, said I, is this the soul 
 that but a few days ago delighted in the thought of His 
 glory ! But now He hath entered into judgment with 
 me ! My soul was amazed, and in deep anguish ; and 
 literally my life drew nigh to the grave. 
 
 When formerly I have read accounts like this I 
 have thought, — these persons have a strong way of ex- 
 pressing themselves ; but alas ! I solemnly declare, no 
 expression appears to me strong enough for what I felt; 
 that word passed my mind several times, 
 
 ‘ Even to His Father did he look 
 In vain — His Father Him forsook 1 
 
 A host of fears seemed to surround me, and I was 
 (as it appeared to me) given into their hands. Those 
 words came often to my mind, ^ To know Him, and the 
 power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His 
 sufferings." Sometimes I remembered that expression, 
 
 ^ My God ! My God ! why hast thou forsaken me." I 
 cast my mournful eyes towards the ^ Man of sorrows," 
 who spoke them, but there seemed no answer. All 
 was horror and darkness. 
 
 Many times a day I visited my lovely corpse, remem- 
 bering as I knelt beside him how he used to say, ^ Ah ! 
 my dear Polly, must I ever see thee laid out on this bed!" 
 But alas ! he could no more speak to me, no more express 
 his tender sympathy ! Now ^ I trod the winepress alone," 
 and truly, ^ There was none with me." The rest of the 
 day I sat mostly alone in the next room, where my win- 
 
366 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 dow presented to my view the grave digging, and the 
 church-yard visited by numbers to look at the vault ! 
 
 My anguish was extreme. All outward support 
 seemed to be withdrawn ; appetite and sleep quite 
 failed me ; and even the air, I often thought, had en- 
 tirely lost all its vivifying powers. As I never before 
 had any conception of the bitter anguish which the 
 Lord saw good to visit me with at this season ; so I can 
 give no just description of it. ^ Known unto God are 
 all His ways and I was assured, even in the midst of 
 my trouble, that all Pie did was well, and that there 
 Avas a needs be for this heavy trial. But what bound 
 all my other trials upon me was, I felt continually the 
 keenest accusations from Satan, constraining me by every 
 possible suggestion to look at my extreme sensibility in 
 suffering, as being deeply sinful ! What, thought I, 
 has made this change ? If J esus was my all, should I 
 not feel as keenly the sense of His having suffered for 
 me, as I do in the thought of my dear husband's 
 kindness, and in the dreadful feeling of my separation 
 from him ? And because I could feel but very faint 
 touches of sensible communion with God, I was torn as 
 it were in pieces. All my religion seemed shrunk into 
 one point ; viz., a constant cry, ^ Thy will be done !' 
 I will, yes, I loill glorify Thee, even in this fire. 
 
 Yet it seemed to me I did not glorify Him ; and 
 so afraid was I of turning to any human comfort, or 
 stopping short of all the Lord would have me to do or 
 be, that in the midst of this terrible furnace, I can say, 
 that at every moment my conscience was ^ quick as the 
 apple of an eye, the slightest touch of sin to feel.' Yea, 
 my spirit was all eye to discern its most distant ap- 
 
THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 367 
 
 proach. Yet in everything I seemed to he accused, 
 and also condemned ! so that ^ my soul was’ indeed 
 ^ sorrowful even unto death.’ ” 
 
 And now let us look at Madame Griiyon’s trials. 
 
 It would be difficult for me,” said she, to enume- 
 rate all the acts of unkindness and cruelty which were 
 practised towards me. The little garden near my cot- 
 tage, I had put in order. Persons came at night and 
 tore it all up, broke down the arbor, and overturned 
 everything in it ; so that it appeared as if it had been 
 ravaged by a body of soldiers. My windows were 
 broken. They were dashed through with stones, which 
 fell at my own feet. All the night long persons were 
 around the house, making a great noise, threatening to 
 break it in, and uttering personal abuse. I have learned 
 since who put these persons upon their wicked work. 
 
 It was at this time that notice reached me, that 1 
 must go out of the diocese. The good which Grod had 
 enabled me to do, was condemned more than the greatest 
 crimes. Crimes were tolerated ; but the work of God, 
 resulting in the conversion and sanctification of souls, 
 could not be endured. All this while I had no uneasi- 
 ness of mind. My soul found rest in God ; I never 
 repented that I had left all to do what seemed to me 
 to be His will. I believed that God had a design in 
 everything which took place ; and I left all in His 
 hands, both the sorrow and the joy.” 
 
 Under these circumstances, it is obvious that she 
 could no longer remain. I saw,” she says, that there 
 was nothing for me to do here, so long as the bishop 
 should be against me. I did what I could to gain his 
 
368 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 good will ; but it was impossible to do it on any other 
 terms than the engagement which he demanded of me, 
 and which I knew it to be my duty not to make.'’ The 
 union of priests, bishop, and people against her, she 
 regarded as an obvious indication of Providence, that 
 in the language of scripture, she must shake off the 
 dust of her feet against them," and go to another city. 
 
 And what were the feelings under which she was 
 thus compelled, for a second time, to leave her field of 
 labor, and go again, she knew not whither My soul," 
 she says, leaving all to God, continued to rest in a 
 quiet and peaceable habitation. 0 Thou, the great, 
 the sole object of iny love ! If there were no other re- 
 ward for the little services which we are able to perform, 
 than this calm and fixed state, above the vicissitudes 
 of the world, would it not be enough ? The senses, 
 indeed, are sometimes ready to start aside, and to run 
 off like truants ; but every trouble flies before the soul 
 which is entirely subjected to God. 
 
 By speaking of a fixed state, I do not mean one 
 which can never decline or fall^ that being only in heaven. 
 I call it fixed and permanent, in comparison with the 
 states which have preceded it, which, being in the mixed 
 life, and without an entire and exclusive devotedness to 
 God, are full of vicissitudes and variations. Such a soul, 
 one which is wholly the Lord's, may be troubled ; but 
 the sufferings which it is called to endure, affect only the 
 outside, without reaching and disturbing the centre. 
 Neither men nor devils, though they discharge all their 
 fury against it, can permanently harm a soul that is free 
 from selfishness, and is in union with the Divine will. 
 No sufferings whatever could ever affect it, neither more 
 
THE ‘‘I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 369 
 
 nor less, neither within nor without, were it not permit- 
 ted for icise purposes from above” 
 
 We shall have this calmness of mind in petty cir- 
 cumstances also. According to the trite aphorism. 
 Life is made up of little things,'' and the mind that 
 will accept the will of Grod in great matters and not in 
 small, must have some out of the way sphere appointed 
 to it, if it be conformed to this will at all. Let us take 
 care how we provoke the Lord to appoint us out of the 
 way spheres ; they may shake us with terrible rend- 
 ings ; the lack of humility displayed in not accepting 
 the Divine will in little things, will surely make the 
 Lord deal with us with the rod. He who refuses the 
 discipline of the crook, shall surely get the discipline of 
 the rod. 
 
 And let us mark the great advantage which we shall 
 get in an increased rectitude of judgment. Our will 
 now biases our judgment ; it comes in as a disturbing 
 influence ; if it do not kick the beam, it at least holds 
 the balance unevenly ; it ceases to be what should 
 be," and becomes what we would have it be." The 
 bias of the will is often fatal to the rectitude of the 
 judgment. But if our wills be conformed to the will 
 of Grod ; if we cease to wish to have a will of our own, 
 we shall allow all arguments and facts to have their 
 due weight with us ; and we shall judge righteous 
 judgment. Even the natural judgment will find its 
 great advantage, in the subservience of the will ; that 
 subservience will produce quiescence ; and the heart 
 being stilled, the will of God will speak. 
 
 And now, lastly, how much this sanctification of the 
 16 ^ 
 
370 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF SUBJECTION. 
 
 Avill comes home to hs^ in the matter of our own 'per- 
 sonal happiness. 
 
 When wo have given up our will to Grod's will, we 
 shall enjoy the peace of being in the path of duty. The 
 consciousness of being in the path of duty sweetens 
 many bitter trials ; lightens many heavy depressions ; 
 and gives stability in many slippery places. We know 
 that all must be right and well, seeing that it comes in 
 the order of the working out of God's will, and we are 
 at peace. 
 
 See what contentment it will give us when others in- 
 crease and wo decrease ; when we are put low, or kept 
 low, for it is all according to the will of God. 
 
 Oh ! that such a consecration of the will may be 
 abundantly vouchsafed to the readers and the writer of 
 this book ; may we be able to pray from the heart's 
 core, Thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven 
 may we be able to say, Nevertheless, not as I will but 
 as Thou wilt.'’ We, in our small measures, have our 
 Gethsemane and Calvary, our garden, and our cross ; 
 oh ! that the utterance of our consecrated, though 
 bleeding, hearts may be this, Nevertheless, not what 
 I will, but what thou wilt." 
 

 Mill” oi dllorifitattoiv. 
 
 John xvii. 24. 
 

John xvii. 24. 
 
 “ Father, I will that they also whom Thou hast given Me, be with Me 
 where I am ; that they may behold my glory, which Thou hast 
 given Me ; for Thou lovedst Me before the foundation of the 
 world.” 
 
 « OW precious are family gatherings on earth ! 
 When the Christmas log blazes upon the fire ; 
 and it may be, three generations meet together ; 
 and they are all one, in common blood, from 
 the grandsire who leans upon his staff, down to the 
 infant that lies slumbering in its cradle, how genial is 
 the glow that diffuses itself through the heart ; a glow, 
 not from the Christmas log, but from the still hotter 
 fire of human love. 
 
 And what efforts are made to accomplish such family 
 gatherings as these ? The old man has tottered a long 
 way upon his staff, the young man has worked harder 
 than his wont, to pay for daintier fare ; and what ef- 
 forts are made that this shall be a day of enjoyment ; 
 and that it may be so, the old man determines to forget 
 his pains, and the young man his labors, and the 
 anxious mother her cares ; alas ! that there should be 
 
374 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 generally so much toil to secure a little joy ; we squeeze 
 out in slow and labored drops, what flowed in gushing 
 streams in Paradise. 
 
 And then, Avhen with difficulty and labor, we accom- 
 plish such large gatherings on earth ; how swiftly, to 
 use the poePs simile, does sorrow tread upon the heels 
 of joy.'" Solemn thoughts gather in the minds of think- 
 ing men ; even whilst the enjoyment is going on, the 
 time of dispersion is drawing near, and, will that com- 
 pany ever meet together on earth again ? It may be 
 that before Christmas comes again, that old man will 
 have calmly heard the voice of the messenger, and gone 
 away to the distant land ; or perhaps that young man, 
 will be broken up in some of life's tempests, and the 
 fragments of his shattered home be tossed hither and 
 thither, to be seized and appropriated by the lawless 
 wrecker's hand ; who knows but that the young mother's 
 soft lullaby may be stilled forever ; or but that the 
 little babe, ere it lisped on earth, may be taken to sing 
 in heaven. The sword of Damocles is suspended over 
 every heart, the dead fly is in every pot of ointment, 
 the cloud no bigger than a man's hand is in every sky. 
 On earth we gather, but to be dispersed ; life is a garden 
 in which the bud blossoms but to decay ; it is a dis- 
 solving view in which the smile melts away into a tear. 
 
 But turn we to Grod's great family gathering, of which 
 all earthly family gatherings are but broken and imper- 
 fect types, and here we shall And that for which the 
 heart so earnestly pants ; a scene of joy which shall be 
 unbroken ; a meeting of dear friends which shall never 
 be dispersed. Gather my saints together ; those that 
 have made a covenant with me by sacrifice and in 
 
THE “I WILL” OF GLORIFICATION. 37.; 
 
 final fulfillment of that pregnant word, they shall come 
 from the east and the west, and from the north and the 
 south, and sit down in the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 What a noble family gathering will that be, where 
 millions upon millions assemble in one vast home ; all 
 relations ; all loving, all pure, all fresh in health and 
 strength, all with common interest, all meeting never to 
 part again. I pray Grod that every reader of this book 
 may be present at the Great Father's feast ; God their 
 Father, and heaven their home ! 
 
 And for this gathering great efforts are now being 
 made. By efforts, we mean puttings forth of Divine 
 power ; for strictly speaking, God need never make any 
 effort ; He has but to give His command, and what He 
 wills must be done. But, we might say, efforts are 
 being put forth if we look at the means by which God 
 works, and by which He has providentially ordered that 
 His will shall be carried out. Down in dark cellars 
 city missionaries are diving ; up lofty attics are they 
 climbing ; away over the seas are foreign missionaries 
 speeding ; the iron missionary labors from morning to 
 night throwing off its printed sheets of warning, instruc- 
 tion, and invitation ; Bible women, colporteurs, district 
 visitors. Sabbath school teachers, and many such are 
 gathering together the family of God : and with that 
 gathering there are none but glorious thoughts con- 
 nected ; its brightness shall never be dimmed ; its unity 
 never broken up. 
 
 The unity of the church of Goa is connected with the 
 glory of Christ, — to break up that unity would be to 
 hurt His glory — His people are to behold His glory, 
 and that glory is to be eternal ; they must behold it not 
 
376 
 
 THE “ I WILL ” OF GLORIFICATION, 
 
 only in its degree^ but in its duration — forever and for- 
 ever. Father^ I will that they also whom Thou hast 
 given me, be with me where I am ; that they may be- 
 hold my glory, which Thou hast given me ; for Thou 
 lovedst me before the foundation of the world.'' 
 
 Now first of all, let us direct our attention to the 
 prominent position which this will occupied in the 
 mind of Christ, 
 
 We see it in His laboring, Christ's life was one of 
 labor ; and this labor, whilst fulfilling the will of His 
 Father, had an ulterior object, viz., the gathering to- 
 gether of His Church. Jesus knew that He had to 
 teach His people, if they were to be made fit for glory — 
 that He had to leave them an example — that the church 
 would enter into His labors in after years ; all true 
 believers striving to fashion themselves upon the model 
 which He set. Jesus underwent a vast amount of la- 
 bor before He suffered on the cross, but He knew that 
 He was God's workman, with a surety of the harvest 
 before Him, and with joy unutterable in His future rest 
 from the church present with Him in glory — the Church 
 for which He Avrought. I apprehend that Jesus was as 
 God's servant, a man of the future as well as the pres- 
 ent. He was a man of the present inasmuch as He 
 seized all present opportunities, and performed with all 
 His might all present duties, undergoing also all present 
 toil ; but He was a man of the future also, because He 
 lived in the consciousness of the great recompense before 
 Him, when He entered into His rest. 
 
 And Jesus had this will prominently before Him in 
 suffering also. We are told by the apostle, that for the 
 
THE “I WILL” OF GLOKIFICATION. 
 
 377 
 
 joy that was set before Him, He endured the cross, 
 despising the shame Heb. xii. 2. We err if we suppose 
 that all Christ's suffering was in the garden and on 
 the cross ; temptation was suffering to Him ; contact 
 with evil, albeit He was undefiled thereby, was suffer- 
 ing ; and so was the endurance of the waywardness and 
 heaviness of His disciples ; the cross was but the culmi- 
 nating point of accumulated suffering ; no doubt the cross 
 has its own grand distinctiveness, and this above all, that 
 in that particular suffering of Jesus we find our life ; but 
 the cross stands upon, as it were, a pyramid, composed 
 of the many sufferings of previous years. In all this 
 we believe that Jesus kept steadily before Him the 
 purchase and future possession of His Church. Hus- 
 bands," says the tipostle in Eph. v. 25, &c., . . . love 
 your wives, even as Christ also loved the Church, and 
 gave Himself for it ; that He might sanctify and cleanse 
 it with the washing of water by the word. That He might 
 present it to Himself a glorious Church, not having spot 
 or wrinkle, or any such thing, but that it should be holy 
 and without blemish." Christ had no visions of isolated 
 glory ; He had isolated glory without leaving the bosom 
 of the Father at all. 
 
 This will was also strongly before His mind in pro- 
 viding them with the Holy Ghost. Well did Jesus know 
 what His people would need before they were fitted for 
 being with Him, where He was. He knew they could not 
 take their sinful natures, any more than their sins them- 
 selves, into heaven ; and so. He provided that they should 
 be sanctified as well as cleansed. It will be well for us 
 when we think of Christ's determination to have His 
 people with Himself, not to forget how He means to have 
 
378 
 
 THE ‘a WILL” OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 them also ; His is no arbitrary will, that overrides all 
 moral necessities ; it is necessary that they who are to be 
 in glory should be holy, and that which is in Christ's 
 mind is not the determination to drag them to heaven 
 without any reference to sanctification, but rather to 
 sanctify them, and so fit them for being with Him there. 
 
 But this will of Christ had also a prominent place as 
 regards personal feeling. Jesus had such a personal in- 
 terest in His people that He willed that they should get 
 the best. Now where was the best to be had ? Was it 
 not with Himself, in His glory ; in the place where He 
 was to enjoy what was pre-eminently His given glory — 
 i. e., the glory connected with the redemption of man ? 
 Jesus knew the glory that awaited Himself, but He did 
 not, as selfish man too often does, think only of Himself ; 
 He would make His people partakers of the best which 
 it was possible for them to have. Such is the interest 
 that our blessed Lord has in all His people now ; these 
 words belong to us as well as to the apostles, and we may 
 fully take them to ourselves. And what a peace-giving 
 thought it should be to the heart, that we may leave all 
 our interests in our Lord's hands, as being abundantly 
 cared for by Him. He will have us in no less a place 
 than that in which He is Himself. We, with our j)oor 
 human love, know what it is to try and get the best we 
 can for those we love ; we toil to be able abundantly to 
 provide for them ; _if there be anything worth seeing, we 
 try to show it to them ; if anything specially fit for 
 them to have, we try to get it for them ; we are but poor 
 scholars in the school of love, unless this be our expe- 
 rience. But Jesus is the Great Master in the school of 
 
THE “ I WILL ” OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 379 
 
 love ; it is from His perfect lips that we gather up our 
 poor lisping accents of love ; and He carries out the 
 natural impulses of love in getting the very best for His 
 people. And Jesus has not to try^ and fail^ as we too 
 often do ; we have often felt sorrowful because we could 
 not accomplish what our heart desires. Jesus receives 
 from the Father all the desires of His heart. So that 
 His people shall have throughout eternity everything that 
 he desires for them. And if my Lord desire I should 
 have the best, how entirely may I leave all belonging to 
 eternity with Him. Yes ! and all belonging to time also ; 
 if I trust Him with the greater^ surely I may with the 
 lesser also ; if He care for me in heaven^ He will care for 
 me also upon earth. And thus ivill the world grow less 
 and less ; the best that it can give will be viewed side 
 by side with even the least of the joys which Christ 
 will givC; and the light of heaven shall eclipse the light 
 of earth. 
 
 And let us further mark how the prominence of this 
 will of Christ in personal feeling shews us that His en- 
 joyment is hound up in His people. He is to have glory 
 from the Father. He wills that that glory should be 
 seen by His people. The closest connection which Jesus 
 shall have through eternity, next after that which sub- 
 sists between His Father and Him, will be that which 
 shall subsist between Himself and His church. The 
 damned will be His prisoners, and the angels His ser- 
 vants ; but the church will be His bride, one with Him- 
 self in the closest and tenderest of unions for ever. Now, 
 this is as though our Lord said, I do not wish to keep 
 all this glory to myself ; I wish those to whom I have 
 the tenderest feelings to enjoy it ; my heart finds its 
 
380 
 
 THE ‘a WILL” OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 pleasure in benevolence^ in outflowings^ in givings 
 away ; let my churchy my spouse^ be with me to behold 
 and to rejoice in my glory.^^ 
 
 And as we believe that Christas enjoyment will be 
 bound up in His people, so also do we believe that their 
 enjoyment loill he hound up in Him. They will know 
 how He won His mediatorial glory, their own hearts 
 will tell them the history of the jewels in His mediatorial 
 crown ; and however varied may be the joys, and how- 
 ever delightful the companionships of heaven. He will 
 continue the main attraction for ever and ever. 
 
 And this I will"' of Christ shews us that His con- 
 nection with His people shall not be merely temporal 
 but eternal. Death is the great severer of all human 
 relationships ; the closest bonds it snaps as though they 
 were but a thread of tow. But none shall take away 
 Jesus from the eyes of the heavenly beholders ; none 
 shall take away the beholders from Him ; until the re- 
 lationship be broken, the results flowing from it cannot 
 be cut off, and so this I will" secures to Christ's peo- 
 ple an eternity of bliss. 
 
 Shall not this thought comfort us much, under the 
 sore bereavements which we have to endure on earth. 
 As wound after wound is inflicted upon our hearts, and 
 friend after friend drops by our side ; until at last a whole 
 row of empty chairs stands in our room, shall not we 
 And solace in this blessed thought, the highest (oh ! may 
 we also ever be able to say, ^ the dearest') of my rela- 
 tionships is unbroken. All these rendings are but for a 
 season ; soon I shall be with my Lord ; and then, for- 
 asmuch as I am to be where He is, and He is all in all, 
 I shall know such pangs as these no more. 
 
THE ‘ I WILL” OF GLOKIFICATIOK. 
 
 381 
 
 Oh ! these earthly separations from those we love^ 
 how terribly do they scald and wear the heart ! day by 
 day to see those things laid out, as it were, in such stony 
 dead-like forms, which used to lie about here and there, 
 in the sweet abandonment of daily life. Oh ! the mis- 
 ery of that order, where everything is in exactly its 
 ])roper place, because there was no living hand to touch 
 and move it ; oh ! that some one would come unawares 
 and scatter those chairs about the room, and bid them 
 not stand motionless like funeral mutes against the wall; 
 oh ! that some one would take those pens out of the 
 inkstand, and drop them carelessly upon the table as 
 though some living hand had been using them ; oh ! for 
 a wrinkle in that smooth and close drawn cloth ; as 
 smooth almost as the strained covering of the coffin 
 lid ; so that we might fancy that some one (the some 
 one) had been leaning upon it, or using it in some of 
 the work of daily life ! Yes ! all this comes of separa- 
 tion — the great separation — but take courage, Christian; 
 thou shalt have a home in which there shall be the 
 great separation no more. 
 
 But is it only the great separation that wrings the 
 heart ? ah ! the lesser ones wring the heart strings too. 
 What a feeling of heart-sinking comes over us, as we go 
 into the room, which a dear friend has inhabited in 
 our house, and from which he is just gone ; look at 
 those torn letters, look at that tossed and tumbled bed, 
 from which life seems to have so recently fled ; oh ! that 
 something had been left behind, that we could lay hold 
 of, to connect the whole scene with the activities of life 
 again ; and have not we felt these heart-sinkings ; the 
 low murmurings of the voice which saith, ^-Man never 
 
382 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 continueth in one stay.'' Arise ye and depart, for this 
 is not your rest." 
 
 Well, dear reader, has it been observed, that next to 
 a funeral a wedding is often one of the saddest occasions 
 on earth. Far be it from me to add one drop to the gall 
 and bitterness of life — or to cause to pass even the most 
 fleeting cloud across the wedding day's bright sky ; but 
 are there none to whom that day brings thoughts of sad- 
 ness. Does the mother shed no tear as she gives up her 
 child ; does the father part with that which is bone of 
 his bone, without feeling the wrench ; do not tears come 
 into sisters' eyes as they say good bye ; and is there not 
 an awkward silence when the carriage wheels are rolling 
 from the door ? And when all is over, and the guests are 
 gone, and the fragments of the feast lie neglected upon 
 the festive board, and you stand and look, and think for 
 a moment, how it all fleeted by like a dream ; of what 
 froth can your heart be made, if there steals not into 
 it one solemn thought — there has been a separation — a 
 bud has been cut from the parent tree — 'tis true, the sun 
 shone upon the blade that severed it — and summer 
 breezes, with soft and perfumed breath, sang merrily the 
 marriage chant — but with all the brightness, all the 
 music, the deed is done — the tree is cut — the bud is 
 gone. 
 
 We too can rejoice with them that do rejoice, as well 
 as weep with them that weep ; we make it almost a 
 point of conscience to open our caskets, and bring out 
 whatever jewels we possess for this festive day ; we try 
 to drink into the spirit of Him who turned the water 
 into wine : but we see in this, which is presumed to be the 
 happiest of earth's days, what we see in the rose which 
 
THE ‘ I WILL” OF GLOKIFICATION. 
 
 383 
 
 is called the fairest of earth's flowers^ the traces of the 
 great separation between man and God — (the separa- 
 tioiij which has borne as its fruit all other separations) — 
 the one sad cause mars the beauty of the fairest flower^ 
 and dashes with a drop of bitterness the highest festivity 
 of life. 
 
 But there shall be no more of this hereafter. Jqsus 
 shall hereafter be the great object of His people's love^ 
 companionship, and delight ; and where He is, there 
 they shall be also." Nor shall there be any separation 
 amongst the redeemed. We believe fully in the activities 
 of heaven ; we do not believe in the pictures which 
 represent the redeemed as hanging midway in the air, 
 with harps in their hands surrounding a Being who is 
 hanging there also. This is to us not the beatific vision. 
 The infidel who saw it said, If this be your heaven 
 you may beep it to yourself." Our beatific vision takes 
 a wider range than this ; we believe it probable that 
 the universe itself will be open to the activities of the 
 redeemed, that there will be diverse spheres of service 
 for the Lord — the rulership over ten cities and over 
 five — but there shall be no separations, such as we ex- 
 perience upon earth. The whole body of the redeemed 
 shall be gathered up into Jesus, as the folds of a garment 
 are gathered up into one band ; they shall be in union 
 with Him as the myriad rays of the sun are with the 
 one bright orb ; they shall each perform their several 
 functions, but they shall all be members of the one body 
 of which He is the head. 
 
 And seeing that all this blessing is linked to con- 
 nection with Jesus, how great is the need of clinging 
 to Him ! If any man serve me, let him follow me ; 
 
384 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 and where I am, there shall also my servant be : if any 
 man serve me, him will my Father honor John xii. 
 26. Let us link ourselves to that whicli seems the 
 most enduring upon earth, and we shall find that it 
 will crumble or dissolve ; its very nature is, that either 
 its relationship with us, or ours with it can not endure; 
 but let us be linked to Christ, and we shall find that 
 though heaven and earth pass away, His words shall 
 not pass away, we shall be in unbroken relationship 
 with Him for ever ; His words shall be fulfilled, 
 
 Father, I will that they also whom Thou hast given 
 me, be with me where I am, that they may behold my 
 glory ; for Thou lovedst me before the foundation of 
 the world.' ^ 
 
 We now come finally to consider, so far as we are 
 led to do by this verse, a part of the blessing of the 
 redeemed. It is spoken of here as beholding the 
 glory of Christ." This beholding will not be a mere 
 
 looking at," just as we look at some spectacle now — 
 ourselves having no interest in the matter, except the 
 pleasure which we may derive from the sight. The 
 saints have a greater interest in the glory of Christ 
 than this; ^^If we suffer, we shall also reign with 
 Him :" 2 Tim. ii. 12. To him that overcometh will 
 I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also 
 overcame, and am set down with my Father in His 
 throne :" Kev. iii. 21. Nor shall this beholding be 
 merely transitory, for the apostle tells us in 1 Thess. 
 iv. 17, that His people shall be ever with Him, And 
 so shall we be ever with the Lord." 
 
 We can easily understand how much more delight 
 
THE “I WILL” OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 385 
 
 the saints will experience in beholding the glory of their 
 Lordj when they themselves have an interest in it^ 
 than the}" would have had if Jesus were one simply to 
 be admired, but wholly out of connection with them- 
 selves. It may be that the devils will have some con- 
 siderable knowledge of the glory of Christ ; perhaps as 
 Dives knew something of the happiness of Lazarus in 
 Abraham’s bosom, so the lost ones will have some con- 
 sciousness at least of the glory of the Lord. But such 
 a consciousness will only increase their misery. He is 
 no Saviour, no friend, no glorifier to them. Will not 
 the personal love of the redeemed to their Lord make 
 them intensely happy in beholding His glory, even 
 apart from any actual reflection of that glory uj)on 
 themselves ? We think it will, and that the analogy 
 of earthly relationship holds good here. When the 
 conqueror returns to his own country, victorious over 
 all his foes, and laden with their spoils, and when in 
 triumphant procession he enters the city amid the 
 clang of martial music, the waving of banners, and the 
 loud acclamations of thousands, who feels proudest of 
 him — whose eye dwells with greatest satisfaction upon 
 him — who feels personal honor in his honor, personal 
 triumph in his triumph, personal gain in every shout 
 of the multitude, and boom of the thundering gun ? 
 Surely we can think of but one — it is his spouse, 
 she with whom he is one, and who from her very 
 connection with him, feeble and unworthy though she 
 be, must in some measure share his glory ; from all 
 such earthly triumphs we ascend to those yet higher ; 
 and who in heaven will have the most joy and 
 interest in beholding the glory of the triumphant 
 
 17 
 
386 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 Saviour ? Is it the angels ? Nay^ they are not the 
 spouse of Christ ; and moreover, they have never been 
 redeemed through Christ. Who then ? The Church ; 
 these of whom Christ speaks in the passage before us 
 now. And would, that even now we perceived this our 
 interest in Christ, as readily as we j)erceive His interest 
 in us ; then should we be more ready than we are to 
 take a share in the conflict ; as He will in the power of 
 relationship share His glory with us ; so should we 
 in the power of relationshi]) give our energies to Him. 
 Alas ! how one-sided are the best of us ; we expect to 
 get, we are unwilling to give. We should remember 
 that as relationship involves giving, it involves receiv- 
 ing too. It is thus that the Church will behold, and 
 in the power of relationship share the glory of her 
 Lord. 
 
 But we may proceed yet a little farther into this 
 matter ; the redeemed shall behold the glory of their 
 Lord with a great power of comprehension. Of course, 
 they never can either fully scale the heights or sound 
 the depths of the glory of Christ ; vast as is the capac- 
 ity of the saints it is flnite still, nevertheless they shall 
 know much about this. For the saints shall hereafter 
 have great power of comprehension ; now they see as 
 through a glass darkly, but then they shall see face to 
 face ; know they know in part, but then shall they 
 know even as they are known. The increased power 
 of comprehension, wherewith the saints shall behold the 
 glory of their Lord, shall form no small part of their 
 happiness in heaven. They shall behold Him then, 
 with the understanding, which personal experience gives. 
 
 It is true we now, I hope, have some personal expe- 
 
THE “I V\^ILL” OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 387 
 
 rience of our Lord ; but it is an experience clogged with 
 adverse circumstances. Jesus cannot now let the fulness 
 of His glory flow forth to the individual soul ; such flow- 
 ings forth would be stopped by either the deadness or the 
 evil within us^, as we know that they have already fre- 
 quently been. But when Christ's people are with Him^ 
 where He is, all these impediments shall be removed ; 
 they shall have full power to receive Him ; they shall be 
 able to make use of the revelations which He willgive ; all 
 jirejudice, all blindness, all mental cloggings will be re- 
 moved, and they shall be able to enjoy the splendor 
 which, in Christ, is outstretched before them. In glory, 
 the capacity of the creature shall be increased, and he 
 who recognised some brightness in Jesus now, shall then 
 behold Him brighter than the sun ; there will no doubt 
 be Divine revelations of the wonders of the cross, to suit 
 the expanded comprehension of the redeemed ; and then, 
 so far as He can be, by still finite beings, Christ shall be 
 understood. What wonders of Divine ivisdom will then 
 meet our eyes, when we find that our Shepherd led us by 
 ways that we knew not ; we shall then know that it was 
 Jesus guided us by such and such a path ; and we shall 
 see that He led us away from the beetling precipice, 
 away from the shifting quick-sand, away from the 
 treacherous bog with its deceptive phosphorescent lights ; 
 it will be a part of the glory of Christ to have led His 
 sheep through all these dangers to the fold, and we shall 
 know it, and shall mingle wonder with our love. What 
 wonders of divine endurance will then open out before 
 our minds, when we ascertain ho^vmuch the Saviour bare 
 from us ; how long He bare with us. Now, we know not 
 the glory of His character, because we know not the 
 
388 
 
 THE ‘a WILL'’ OF GLORIFICATION, 
 
 instances in which it is exemplified ; hut we shall know- 
 it then ; Jesus will shine forth in heaven^ not only 
 with the glory of what He is, hut with that of what He 
 has done ; and with what eyes shall we hehold Him when 
 we think, Thus He endured forme What wmiders of 
 divine triumph will then meet our eyes when we have 
 unveiled to us many of the mysteries of Christ/s agony 
 in the garden^ and death upon the cross ; when we see 
 how the councils of hell were thwarted^ and the assaults 
 of hell repelled ; and how those words^ ^Ht is finished,''' 
 scattered the powers of darkness, and opened up the 
 great highway to the realms of light I What can we poor 
 dull creatures understand of all this now ? We just grasp 
 the truth that Jesus died, in order that by it we may 
 be saved, but we cannot see far into it ; we tarry as it 
 were in its outer courts, while there is a holy of holies 
 into wdiich we shall be admitted by and bye. Cannot we 
 imagine how the hearts of the saints will be enraptured 
 as they see and comprehend all these wonders in their 
 Lord, The astronomer as he surveys the vast expanse of 
 heaven through his telescope, has his admiration drawn 
 out as it never could have been if he surveyed it only 
 with the naked eye ; and he who examines a flower 
 through a microscope, rises from his steady gaze, and 
 strong light, and high magnifying power, which has let 
 him into nature's secrets, with an enthusiasm which other- 
 wise he never could have had ; but neither telescope nor 
 microscope ever admitted any philosophers into such 
 secrets in the natural world as this I will" of J esus does 
 his glorified people in the spiritual world. On His head 
 are many crowms, (Rev. xix. 12) and they shall see them 
 all — yea, not only the crowns — but also the jewels in the 
 
THE “I WILL” OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 389 
 
 crowns ; what precious stones are there, and what their 
 wondrous worth. 
 
 It may be that the redeemed will be admitted into 
 many of the deep mysteries of God. This possibly is 
 hinted at in the words, ^^For Thou lovest me before 
 the foundation of the world.'' Perhaps, their understand- 
 ing something of this truth will give them the truest 
 insight into the mysteries of the cross. The Father's love 
 before the foundation of the world, will probably shew 
 them in truest colors the price of the salvation of a soul. 
 Thus, and thus only, can they know the price at which 
 their souls were redeemed ; the value which was put upon 
 those souls by God ; the love which dictated a sacrifice 
 so great. The Father's love to the Son before the 
 foundation of the world, will be the greatest manifesta- 
 tion of His love to mankind in the world. 
 
 As we think of these exceeding glories of the future, 
 do we not sec how vast is the difference between the 
 j)leasures and pursuits of Christ's people, and the 
 world's, both now and hereafter? 
 
 The people of the world are toiling for honor, which 
 cannot permanently ennoble them — for wealth, which 
 cannot permanently enrich them — for health, which 
 cannot permanently remain with them ; no portion 
 have they in the grand future of the saints; for they 
 have none in Him by whom that future is made. 
 When they lay down the coronets of earth, they have 
 no crowns to take up in heaven ; when they are severed 
 from earthly wealth, they have no bags which wax not 
 old ; when they are unclothed of this their mortal flesh, 
 they have no prospect of being clothed with a body like 
 their Lord's. They may die with weeping, because they 
 
390 
 
 THE “I WILL'’ OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 liave to part from their earthly things, as that great 
 actress, who had her jewels spread upon her coverlet, 
 and wept because she must leave all these or, as that 
 unhappy creature whose spirit fleeted from her, while 
 her eye was fixed immovably upon a chest in the 
 corner of the room, where afterwards it was found that 
 her money was stored up ; or in decent resignation they 
 may turn their face to the Avail, and leaA’-e not even a 
 wrinkle upon their brows ; but for them there is no 
 bright home beyond, for they care not for the presence 
 of Jesus, by Avhom that home's chief brightness is 
 made. 
 
 But for the saints all is bright, because they are 
 going to be Avith Him Avhom their soul loA^eth. I am 
 going to Him," said Dr. Owen, ^Svhom my soul has 
 loved, or I'ather Avho has loved me Avith an everlasting 
 love, Avhich is the sole ground of all my consolation." 
 When Mr. Payne said to him, Doctor, I have just been 
 puttingyour bookoii Glory of Christy to the press," 
 he ansAvered, am glad to hear it ; but, oh ! brother 
 Payne, the long looked for day is come at last, in Avhich 
 I shall see that glory in another manner, than I have 
 ever done yet ; or Avas capable of doing in this Avorld." 
 What a death Avas that Avhich Avas only a going forth to 
 meet One Avhom the soul loveth. I desire to depart 
 and to be Avith Christ, Avhich is far better," said the Eev. 
 John BroAvn, of Haddington, and though I have lived 
 sixty years very comfortably in the Avorld, yet I would 
 turn my back upon you all to be with Christ. Oh ! com- 
 mend Jesus, there is none like Christ, none like Christ. 
 I have been looking at Him these many years, and never 
 yet could find a fault in Him, but aa’rs of my OAvn making, 
 
THE “I WILL” OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 391 
 
 though He has seen ten thousand faults in me. Many a 
 comely person have I seen, but none so comely as Christ. 
 I am weak^ but it is delightful to feel one's self in the 
 everlastiug arms. Oh ! what must He be in Himself, 
 when it is He that sweetens heaven, sweetens scriptures, 
 sweetens ordinances, sweetens earth, sweetens trials 
 And when Eowland Hill was dying, all his thoughts were 
 centred on beholding the person of his Lord, and being 
 where He was. I do believe," said the dying man, 
 
 that for the first ten thousand years after we enter the 
 kingdom of glory, it will be all surprise." But will 
 this surprise never end .^" Never, while we behold 
 the person of our Lord." You are going to be with 
 Jesus, and to see Him as He is," said a friend. Yes !" 
 replied Mr. Hill, with emphasis, and I shall be like 
 Him, that is the crowning point." Thus upon the dying 
 bed, did these saints enter into the mind of Christ ; 
 thus did His I will" pervade their wills, so that they 
 were ready ^Ho depart and be with Christ ;" Phil. i. 23. 
 For them death had no terrors, the unclothing of the 
 spirit no discomforts, the silence of the grave no loneli- 
 ness, for they knew that they were in Christ, and that 
 soon they would be with Christ ; they heard, they leant 
 upon His words, Father, I will that they also whom 
 Thou hast given me, be with me where I am, that they 
 may behold my glory which Thou hast given me ; for 
 Thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world." 
 
 And now we draw this volume to a close. In it wo 
 have heard the sweet voice of invitation^ and Jesus has 
 been presented to us as willing" that all weary ones 
 should come to Him for rest. In it, we have also heard 
 
392 
 
 THE “I WILL” OF GLORIFICATION. 
 
 His solemn j)romise. He has been presented to us as 
 irrevocably pledged willingly'' to receive every man 
 who on his part will receive His grace. Thus inviting; 
 thus receiving. The Holy One has been seen in His 
 mighty work cleansing the poor leprous soul^ for it is 
 indeed His deepest ^^will" that it should be clean. 
 Then^ we have marked how cleansed ones are made con- 
 fessors for their Lord, and how He will" confess them 
 before His Father in heaven. Yet, before that glorious 
 time can come, we have heard what is appointed to 
 many of us to do — to go forth and win souls to Christ ; 
 each one in his sphere, ^^will" He make a fisher of men, 
 Noi*, thus confessing, thus working, shall any of us be 
 left uncheered ; Jesus Himself is with us in our toil, He 
 will" not leave us comfortless^ He will" come unto us. 
 In these pages also have we read, how that every 
 follower of Christ must be at His disposal^ for toil or 
 rest, for martyrdom or life ; that it is His “ I will," that 
 must determine His people's lot. And very solemn is 
 the inquiry which has been here suggested to us, as to 
 the sanctification of our loills^ that highest point of 
 Christian life, as from the deep shade of Gethsemane, 
 we hear the voice of that sweet submissive human will, 
 Nevertheless, not as ^ I will,' but as Thou wilt." Thus 
 did Jesus will" to suffer Himself, that He might be 
 able to will" in covenant power, the glory of His 
 people ; saying, Father, ^ I will' that they also whom 
 Thou hast given me, be with me where I am, that they 
 may behold Thy glory, which Thou hast given me, for 
 Thou lovedst me before the foundation of the world." 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 LEPROSY IN MEN, 
 
 HIS disease affects tlic skin, ana sometimes increases 
 in sncli a manner as to produce scurf, scabs, and vio- 
 lent itcliings, and to corrupt the Avhole mass of blood. 
 At other times it is only a deformity. The Jews regarded the 
 leprosy as a disease sent from God, and Moses prescribes no 
 natural remedy for the cure of it. He requires only that the 
 diseased person should show himself to the priest, and that the 
 priest should judge of his leprosy ; if it appeared to be a real 
 leprosy, capable of being communicated to others, he separated 
 the leper from the company of mankind. He appoints certain 
 sacrifices and particular ceremonies already mentioned for the 
 purification of a leper, and for restoring him to society. The 
 marks which Moses gives for the better distinguishing a lep- 
 rosy, are signs of the increase of this disease. 
 
 An outward swelling, a pimple, a Avhite spot, bright, and 
 somewhat reddish, created just suspicions of a man’s being 
 attacked with it. When a bright spot, something reddish or 
 whitish appeared, and the hair of that place was of a pale 
 red, and the place itself something deeper than the rest of the 
 skin ; this was a certain mark of leprosy. Those who have 
 treated of this disease, have made the same remarks, but have 
 
 17 ^ 
 
394 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 distinguished a recent leprosy from one already formed and 
 become inveterate. 
 
 A recent leprosy may be healed, but an inveterate one is 
 incurable. Travellers, who have seen lepers in the East, say, 
 that the disease attacks principally the feet. Maundrell, who 
 had seen lepers in Palestine, says, that their feet are swelled 
 like those of elephants, or horses’ feet, swelled with the farcy. 
 The common marks by which, as physicians tell us, an inveterate 
 leprosy may be discerned are these. The voice becomes hoarse, 
 like that of a dog which has been long barking, and comes 
 through the nose rather than the mouth ; the pulse is small 
 and heavy, slow and disordered ; the blood abounds with 
 white and bright corpuscles, like millet-seeds; is, in fact, all 
 a scurfy serum, without due mixture ; so that salt put into it 
 does not melt, and is so dry, that vinegar mixed with it bub- 
 bles up ; the urine is undigested, settled, ash-colored, and 
 thick ; the sediment like meal mixed with bran ; the face is 
 like a coal half extinguished, shining, unctuous, bloated, full 
 of very hard pimples, with small kernels round the bottom of 
 them ; the eyes are red and inflamed, and project out of the 
 head, but cannot be moved cither to the right or left ; the 
 ears are swelled and red, corroded with ulcers about the root 
 of them, and encompassed with small kernels ; the nose 
 sinks, because the cartilage rots ; the nostrils are open, and 
 the passages stopped with ulcers at the bottom ; the tongue 
 is dry, black, swelled, ulcerated, shortened, divided in ridges, 
 and beset with little white pimples ; the skin of it is uneven, 
 hard, and insensible ; even if a hole be made in it, or it be 
 cut, a putrefied sanies issues from it instead of blood. 
 Leprosy is very easily communicated ; and hence Moses has 
 taken so much caution to prevent lepers from communica- 
 tion with persons in health. His care extended even to dead 
 bodies thus infected, which he directed should not be buried 
 with others. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 395 
 
 We can hardly fail of observing the character, and terror in 
 consequence of this disease ; how dreadful is the leprosy in. 
 Scripture ! how justly dreadful, when so fatal, and so hopeless 
 of cure 1 Mungo Park states that the negroes are subject to 
 leprosy of the veiy worst kind ; and Mr. Grey Jackson, in his 
 “Account of Morocco,” (p. 192), informs us, that the species 
 of leprosy called jeddem, is very prevalent in Barbary. “At 
 Morocco there is a separate quarter, outside of the walls, in- 
 habited by lepers only. Those who are affected with it are 
 obliged to wear a badge of distinction whenever they leave 
 their habitations, so that a straw hat, with a very wide brim, 
 tied on in a particular manner, is the signal for persons not to 
 approach the wearer. Lepers are seen in many parts of Bar- 
 bary, sitting on the ground with a wooden bowl before them, 
 begging. They intermarry with each other.” — “ Calmet’s 
 Dictionary of the Bible.” 
 
 THE END.