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This item is filmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ Ce document est film* au taux de rMuction indiquA ci-dessous 10X 14X 18X 22X 26X 30X 7 12X 16X aox 24X 28X 32X The copy filmed here hes been reproduced thenks to the generosity of: National Library of Canada L'exemplaire fllmA fut reproduit grAce A ia gtnirositt de: Blblioth« ' mental, tbey possess, to drive home tlie truth. As a rule, the delivery is characterised by more variety of intonation and greater modulation of voice than that of the great preacher of the Tabernacle, whilst it avoids the sudden extremes, the alternate leonine roars and the hiss-'ing whiss-'pera of the well-known orator of the City Temple. That all Welsh preachers do not possess the above qualities in the same degree goes without saying ; that some of tliem possess them in no degree is also possible. But as a class they are cY iracterised by facility of speech and warmth of feeling. But though they all, or nearly all, under- stand English as well as Welsh, they cannot reason- ably be expected to show the same readiness of utterance, the same copiousness of diction, and the same eh^garice of style in an acquired language, which they are sehlom called upon to use save intermittently in private life and in their studies, as in their mother tongue, the language of the hearth and of the sanctuary, the language of tiieir infancy and their manhood. Indeed, some of the best AVelsh preachers resolutely decline to speak publicly in English, not because they are not able to read, write, and speak it in private with com- mendable accuracy, but betuiuse thi-y pain their own sense of propriety by their inability, through I INTRODUCTORY ESSAY. XXI lack of exercise, to give the language the graceful curves and the rainbow colours they have trained themselves to impart to their native Welsh. By entirely laying aside their own language, tliey come in the course of years to wield the Saxon tongue with a dexterity and ease which captivate the bred and born Englishman. The late Thomas Jones, of Swansea, is an instance. Lnrge, cultured congregations were often bewitched by the magical beauty of his language, notwithstanding the slight Welsh accent ; but to acquire this marvellous skill he had to entirely lay aside the language of his fatherland, and even then he never gained the same rich exuberance of colour as he tlid as a AVelsii preacher. To cultivate at the same time a good flowing natural style in two langu.igps, so diametrically opi)Osed in their idioms, is a tlifiiculr, if not an impossible, task. Men like the prei=?eiit writer, who are called upon by the exigencies of the hour to preach one day in Welsh, the next in English, and ofttimes in both laiigiinges in the same service, know by experience how hard it is to maintain purity in either, and are often tempted to a))andon one altogether; and certainly did tiiey think more of style than of duty, of reputation tluin of uselulness they would have long ago adopted such a course, and become either exclusively English or r\ M xxii INTRODUCTORY ESSAY, exclusively Welsh preachers. But the voice of duty must be obeyed. We therefore bow willingly to the inevitable, and make the best use v/e can of the two languages in the present critical, transitional state of the country, if by any means we may win some. As already stated, it is the earnest desire of Welsh ministers to draw closer the bonds of union between us and our English and Scotch brethren, and not stand aloof in cold isolation, as has been too much the case heretofore. How far this closer union will affect our ethnological traits cannot now be predicted. Meanwhile our wish is to work for Christ in the sphere wherein we are placed, proud of our Celtic nature, proud of our Celtic language. But the signs of the times seem to indicate that our nature will cling to us longer than our language ; and if need be we will offer up the latter — one of the finest languages for oratorical purposes that has ever quivered on the lips of man — on the altar of Christianity. We have refused to give it up for commerce' sake, for reputation's sake, for England's sake ; but we will, if need be, give it up for Christ's sake. The Editor. P.S. — It is my purpose, in a subsequent volume, to analyse the more spiritual elements that consti- tute the strength of the Welsh Pulpit. CONTENTS. I. THE LIFE OF ySSUS rioi I BT THB REV. J. CTNDDYLAN JONU. OARDirF. "An(\ He went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was Bulijeot unto them : but His mother kept all these sayings in her heurt. And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man."— St. Lukb ii. 51, 5a. II. THE LORD ysSUS AS A HIGH PRIEST .... 27 BY TUB REV. LEWIS BDWARnS, D.D., BALA. " But Christ being come an High Priest of good things to come, by a greater aud more perfect tabernacle, not made with hani!;, that is to say, not of this building ; neither by the blood of goats and calves, but by His own blood He entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us.*' — Heb. ix. XI, 13. III. THE ETERNAL UNION IN THE PERSON AND WORK OF THE REDEEMER 46 BT THB REV. LE'.7IS EDWARDS, D.D., BALA. " Now that he ascended, what is it but that He also descended first into the lower puns of the earth? He that descended is the same also that ascended up far above all heavens, that He might fill all things."— £fu. iv. 9, xo. IV. THE GOSPEL A DOGMA AND A POWER .... BT THB REV. J. MORRIS, D.D., BRECON. "I am Dot ashamed of the Gospel of Christ : for it is the power of God auto salvation to every one tliat believeth."— RoM. i. x6. 55 xadv CONTENTS. V. THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH ENTICEMENTS TO SIN BY THE REV. OWEN THOMAS, D.D., LIVERPOOL. " Can a man take fire in his bosnm, and his clothes not be burned? Can one go upon hot coals, and his feet not be burned?" — PROV. vi. 27, a8. PAoa 68 VI. THE TWO CHARACTERS BT THE REV. EDWARD MATTHEWS, BRIDOByD. "I have seen the wicked in great power, and spreading himself like a green bay-tree. Yet he passed away, and lo, lie was not; yea, I sought him, but he could not be found. Mark the per- fect man, and behold the upright ; for the end of that man is peace."— Ps. xxxvii. 35-37. VII. STRENGTH OF SOUL MADE PERFECT BY HOPE IN GOD BY TUB REV. W. HOWELLS, TREVECOA. " They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength ; they shall mount up with wings as eagles ; they shall run, and not be weary ; and they shall walk, and not faint."— ISA. xl. 31. 102 120 VIIL "GREAT FAITH" BT THE REV. E. THOMAS, NEWPORT. "Then Jesus answered and said unto her, () woman, great is thy faith : be it unto thee even as thou wilt. And her daughter Was made whole from that very hour." — Matt. xv. 28. 139 IX. CHRISTIANITY A FACT AND A POWER . BY THE REV. OUIFFITH PAHRV, ABERYSTWYTH. . 158 "And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world. "Whosoever shall confess that Je-u<) is the Son of God, Gud dwell- eth in hiui, and he iu God." — i John iv. 14, 15. I CONTENTS. jtxv PAQI LIFE THROUGH THE NAME OF THE SON OF GOD . 173 BT THE REV. W. WILLIAMS, SWANSEA. "But these are written, that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God ; and that believing, ye might have life through His name." — John xz. 31. XI. THE FAITH OF THE CHURCH 185 BY THE REV. JAMES OWEN, SWANSEA. "Nevertheless when the Son of man cometh, shall He find faith on the earth? "—St. LuKEzviii. 8. ii XII. RELIGIOUS DIFFICULTIES 200 BY THE REV. PRINCIPAL JAYNE, ST. DAVID'S COLLEGE, LAMPETER. "Clouds and darkness are round about Him; righteousness and judgment are the habitation of His seat."— Ps. xcvii. 2. |i:' I XIII. THE CORN OF WHEAT DYING BT THE REV. D. HOWELL, WREXHAM. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone ; but if it die, it briiigeth forth much fruit." — St. John zii. 24. 214 XIV. FEEDING THE PEOPLE B\ THE REV. D. WILLIAMS, LLANUYRNOO, DENBIOHSHIRE. "So they did eat and were filled."— St. Mark viii. 8. 224 (ii PAOB 244 xxvi CONTENTS, XV. AN APPARENT CONTRADICTION BY THB REV. ABEL J. PARRY, CARNARVON. " Waa then that which is good made death unto me ? God forbid. But sin, that it might appear sin, working death in me by that which is good ; that sin by the commandment might become exceeding sinful. For we know that the law is spiritual : but I am carnal, sold under sin. For that which I do I allow not : for what I would, that do I not ; but what I hate, that do I. If then I do that which I would not, I consent unto the law that it is good. Now then it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. For I know that in me (that is, in my flesh) dwelleth no good thing ; for to will is present with me ; but how to perform that which is good I find not. For the good that I would I do not: but tlie evil which I would not, that I do. Now if I do that I would not, it is no more I that do it, but sin that dwelleth in me. I find then a law, that 'when I would do good, evil is present with irie. For I delight in the law of God after the inward man : But I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind, and bring- ing nie into captivity to the law of sin which is in my members. O wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the body of this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord. So then with the mind I myself serve the law of God ; but with the flesh the law of sin." — BoM. vii. 13-25. XVI. SEARCHING FOR GOD . . 260 BY THB REV. D. LLOYD JONES, M.A., LLANDINAM. "Canst thou by searching find out God? Canst thou find out the Almighty to perfection? ' — JOB xi, 7. "And without controversy great is the mystery of godliness: God was manifest in the flesli, justified iu the Spirit, seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles, believed on in the world, received up into glory."— I TlM. iii. i6. XVII. THE GREAT CONFLICT 279 BY THE REV. W. JENKINS, M.A., ST. DAVID'S. *' Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good."— ROM. zii. 21. CONTENTS. XXVI 1 XVIII. REFORM AND PARDON PAOB 295 BT THE REV. R. E. MORRIS, B.A., ABBRDOVET. "Cease to do evil: learn to do well. . . . Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord : thoii<,'h your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow : though they be red like crim- son, they shall be as wool."— IsA. i. 13-18. XIX. THE UNION BETWEEN CHRIST AND HIS PEOPLE BY THE REV. J. REES OWEN, PEMBROKE. *' Without Me ye can do nothing."— John xv. 5. 310 XX. THE DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES . . . . .319 BT THE REV. JOHN HUGHES, M.A., MACHTNLLETH. "He also that received seed among the thorns is he that hearetk the word ; and the cares of this world, and the deceitfulness of riches, choke the word, and he become th unfruitful." — Matt. xiii. 22. XXI. THE ONE THING NEEDFUL 350 BT THE REV. T. NICHOLSON, DENBIGH. " But one thing is needful." — Luke x. 43. li.i' XXII. LOVING GOD'S SALVATION BT THE REV. THOMAS REES, MERTHTB. "Such as loY« Thy salvation."- Fs. xl. z6. 364 XXVIU CONTENTS, nan XXIII. LAW DEVELOPING SIN 386 BT THE REV. EVAN PHILLIPS, NEWOASTLE-EHLTK. "Moreover the law entered, that the offence might abound."— RoH. v. 20. XXIV. THE GOSPEL A REVELATION 396 BT THE REV. W. MORRIS, ST. DOGMELL'S, CARDIGAN. " Neither have entered into the heart of man the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him." — i Cob. ii. 9. XXV. GOD LOVING HIS SON 410 BT THE REV. THOMAS JAMES, M.A., LLANELLT. " Therefore doth my Father love Me, because I lay down my life, that I might take it aguiu." — St. John x. 17. XXVI. THE FULL ASSURANCE OF UNDERSTANDING . BT THE REV. JOHN HUGHES, D.P., LIVERPOOL. "That theu hearts might be comforted, being knit togetlier in love, and unto all riches of the full assurance of understHixling. to the acknowledgment of the mystery of God, and of the Father, and of Christ."— CoL. ii. a. 421 XXVII. REASONABLE SERVICE ' • 438 BT THE REV. PRINCIPAL EDWARDS, M.A., ABERTSTWTTH. "I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye ])re8ent your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service."— RoM. xii. i. THE WELSH PULPIT OF TO-DAY. vn THE LIFE OF yESUS. BY THE REV. J. CYNDDYLAN JONES, CARDIFF. " And He Avent down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them : but His mother kept all these sayings in her heart. And Jesus increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man."— St. Luke ii. 51, 52. The visit to the Temple is the only event recorded in the life of Jesus from His early infancy till His appearing unto Israel in His official capacity as the Messiah. It has pleased God to draw the veil over the early career of His Son in the world. Why it pleased Him, it is too difficult for us positively to tell. One reason, perhaps, may be this : that only developed humanity, only mature manhood, is adequate to reveal the Father. A God-infant, or a God-boy, could not be a meet reve- lation of the Highest — only a God-man could. But though we are not favoured with any incident in His infancy till the age of twelve, yet we find the principle that regulated and animated that period pointed out in verse 40 — " And the child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom : and the grace of God way Iff ( I I !' 'I! •iiiii Ijiil 111 2 THE LIFE OF JESUS. upon Him." The Holy Spirit took care to indicate the principle at the root of His life up to the age of twelve. And though nothing is recorded from His boyhood to His manhood — from twelve to thirty — except this one story ; yet the principle which inspired and hallowed that period is laid down in verse 52 — "And He increased in wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man." Now the principle ought to make up for the lack of facts, it ought to compensate for the absence of facts, for facts are only valuable as they serve to disclose principles. But let us look a little more narrowly at the words I have read as a text. They appear to me to be a complete, concise summary of His early history. He is here pre- sented to us in .lomestic life, for He dwelt with His parents and was subject unto them. He is here pre- sented to us in social life, ior He went down with them, and came to Nazareth — His home was in a town. He is here presented to us in industrial life, for the text, taken in connection with other passages in the Gospel history, clearly implies that during the eighteen years He spent at Nazareth, after His return from the present feast. He worked at the trade of His reputed father Joseph. He is finally presented to us in His temple or religious life, for we see Him in His Father's house, deeply absorbed in His Father's business. I. Jesus Christ in home life. " And He went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was subject unto them." I. We see Him settling down to the relationships of THE LIFE OF JESUS. home. Notwithstanding the glorious truth of His Divine Sonship, which only lately shone on Him in all its splendour, and the vivid interest He evidently felt in all that pertained to His heavenly Father's house, yet He went down to Nazareth and dwelt in the humble home of His earthly parents. He would not by His conduct break up the home or in any way mar its happiness. To many the home does not present a sphere large enough for their ambition ; they break away from the domestic circle, and enter upon a larger field, " and the field is the world." Home means to them only a place to eat and drink and sleep in. It is not the abode of the heart, the dwelling-place of the affections. But Jesus Christ was perfectly content in the home circle. He did not complain of its narrowness and confinement. For He did not judge life by its magnitude, but by the principle which animates it ; He did not judge life by its conspicuousness ; but by the spirit which inspires it. The tiny speck on the lady-bird's wing is as round a circle as that of the world. The sphere which a tear makes is as mathematically perfect as that of yonder sun. It makes not the slightest difference in the real merit of a book whether it is printed in large or small type ; in either case the meaning is precisely the same. Some people seriously object to the privacy of home — the type is too small to please their fancy ; they must act their part on the public stage, in the corners of the streets, and in the synagogues — they dearly love a large type. But the Saviour spent thirty years in the privacy of home, and never once complained of its narrowness and obscurity. And surely if the God-man found room i! ! tit 4 THE LIFE OF JESUS. enough to exercise all His graces therein, it ought to check our impatience at its restraints. " The trivial round, the common task, May furnish all we ought to ask,— ;• Room to deny ourselves, a road To bring us daily nearer God." 2. We are further taught that He faithfully dis- cliarged the duties of home — the duties wliich devolved on him as a son in the family. Each member of the family has its respective services to perform, and harmony always depends upon the right adjustment, the proper balancing, of distinct interests. A very delicate thing is the balance — in the words of another, one more handful of dust on this side of the planet might seriously disturb the equilibrium of the universe. " He went down with them, and came to Nazareth, and was sub- ject unto them." He might have been wiser than they ; but superior knowledge does not justify insubordination. You may be endowed with a clearer and farther-reach- ing insight into the laws of political economy than those at the helm of public affairs ; but you have not the shadow of a right to use your superior knowledge to create mutiny on board and sink the ship of state. You have a perfect right to use your superior knowledge to alter the laws, but not to break them. And you, young people, may be wiser than your aged and decrepid parents ; but you have no right to pit your wisdom against their authority. Jesus Christ showed His superior knowledge by cordially acquiescing in the home institu- tion. The word usually applied to Him is " wisdom j " THE LIFE OF yESUS. 5 and if your knowledge is wisdom you will use it, not to vex and annoy your aged parents, but to love, cherish, and obey them. Knowledge as such has no principle. It will beat ploughshares into swords or swords into ploughshares ; it will convert church-bells into cjinnons or cannons into church-bells ; it will edit the " Age of Eeason " or print the New Testament ; it will navigate a corsair's vessel or steer a missionary's ship; it will astonish doctors in the temple or return home to insult a parent. See that you coin your knowledge into wisdom ; for the knowledge which is not wisdom will ajinoy and vex, but the knowledge which is wisdom will honour and soothe. See that you devote your learning to enhance the happiness and multiply the comforts of the old people at home, and to smooth before them the road that leads to the grave ; for you will soon be deprived of the opportunity of showing them either kindness or cruelty. "He was subject unto them." 3. And the context shows that in all this He was doing His Fathers work. " Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's work ? " And if home life were not an integral department of that work, it would have been utterly impossible for Jesus Christ to have submitted to it. But home life is a Divine life, a type, possibly, of the inner life of the Godhead. The Bible represents God as a Father, it describes Him as having a family, it sets Him forth as having a home. All that is figurative, you say. I beg your pardon, it is not figurative if by figurative you mean visionary ; it is real. A vital principle in the interpretation of the Scriptures is this : I ?;). .1^ n iii ■j ' { M ih 6 THE LIFE OF JESUS. God never borrows of man, but man always borrows of God ; the earth never lends to Heaven, but Heaven always lends to the earth. If the same term is applied to botli God and man, then I infer it belongs originally to God, and only derivatively to man. The Divine Fatlieihood is not a figure of the earthly, but tlie earthly of the heavenly. The Divine Fatherhood is a reality ; the home, therefore, is mystically divine. And the tendency of the home is Godward ; it serves to refine the affections, and make the face of the earth like the face of heaven. The love which parents almost invariably bear their offspring appears to me to be one of the chiefest checks on the spread of corruption. " God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son," " not to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved." And out of the riches of the same love He gives His otl; r little sons and daughters to the world continually, " not to condemn the world, but that the world through them might be saved " — they also are saviours in their measure and proportion. The " only begotten Son " is a Saviour in a pre-eminent degree and in quite a unique sense ; but the other little sons and daughters of the Highest are also saviours in their own degree and after their own way — they keep individuals and families from petrifying into selfishness. You may remember how the navvies, who had been employed in the construction of the Pacific Line of Eailway, and been for months toiling Imndreds of miles away from the nearest civilised settlement, melted into tears at the sight of a baby in the first passengers' train that passed along the line, and how they rushed up to the carriage door THE LIFE OF JESUS. and craved permission of the lady to kiss the little darling ; and how, passing him round an)id their tears and laughter, they each and all printed a gentle tender kiss on its soft dimpled cheek. Yes, every child calls forth a certain amount of love to welcome and protect it; an*^ Tove is always a Saviour — it helps to keep the world from sinking into moral insensibility and spiritual callousness. Home life is a divine life, and by serving it we do God's work. II. Jesus Christ in social liee. " He went down with them, and came to Nazareth." His home was in a town. To forsake the courts of the Temple, and go and dwell in the half-heathenish village of Nazareth was a " going down " in more senses than one. Jesus Christ was always " going down " in this world ; His course from first to last was downward. The manger of the ox was low enough, but the cross of the malefactor was lower. " He went down with them, and came to Nazareth." I . Here we see Him settling down to the relationships of society, and that the most corrupt society in the whole world. In so far as situation and scenery were concerned, Nazareth would have ranked among the choicest towns of Palestine ; but its inhabitants were notorious far and near for their impiety, recklessness, and heathenism. " Every prospect pleases, and only man is vile." " Can any good come out of Nazareth ? " Strange that God should choose depraved Nazareth to be the dwelling-place of His Son for thirty years ! "We would have imagined that a select and secluded spot would have been chosen lii H \^ 'W :;. :'v THE LIFE OF JfESUS. K li'i it '^'i where He would have been kept from all contact with sin, and where He would have been partitioned off from other children, and thus secured amiinst the contauion of evil. But that was not God's idea of holiness. Glass- house virtue He did not covet. For the dove to keep her wing pure and unsullied amid the free air of heaven is not 80 very difficult — indeed the difficulty is to soil it ; but to keep it white and clean among the pots is (luite another matter, and harder far to accomplish. From early infancy Jesus Christ had to face vice ; from the outset He had to grapple with sin. His virtue must be sinewy, manly, tried, and triumphant. He must " grow in wisdom and in favour with God and men," not in a richly cultivated and well-protected enclosure, or men will ascribe His incomparable excellence to the advan- tageousness of His position, but in the wild open common, where it will be patent to all tliat His untarnished beauty is not adventitious and accidental, but inherent and radical. Earthly parents may here learn a very precious lesson : not to put too much confidence in glasshouse virtue — it generally withers on its first exposure to the rude winds of the world. Children may be ruined in one of two ways: either by being permitted to visit all kinds of wicked places and witness all manner of obscene spec- tacles without let or hindrance ; or by being kept too strictly aloof from all society and guarded too narrowly against the approach of other children, for when the pro- tection is withdrawn, as withdrawn it surely must be, and they are left to fight for themselves, they will almost necessarily succumb to the first assault of ttinptation. THE LIFE OF JESUS. You may grow oaks in conservatories, but not hearts of oak. Trees under glass make wood faster than fibre ; and liowever symmetrical they look to the eye, they will never yield a man-of-war to her Majesty's navy. Hearts of oak grow only in the open fields and on the wild Norwegian heights, where they have to weather the winter, brave the tempest, and gather strength out of the turmoil of the elements. And conservatory children may be very pleasing to look at so long as they are under shelter ; but the first storm will make a sad havoc among their branches. Let children learn from the first how to defend themselves against physical and moral foes alike. " He went down with them, and came to Naza- reth ; " and there, in the vicinity of evil, " grew in favour with God and men." The science primers of the day teach us that there are two kinds of magnet. One kind is steel. Hold it over a heap of rubbish, pass it through, carry it round, and it will draw to itself all the needles and nails and filings and whatever has in it the nature of iron. The other kind is wax. Take a stick of wax, rub it on your coat-sleeve or on the table-cloth, and there is imparted to it a power to attract ; but its attraction is very different from the first. Hold it over the same heap of dust as before, pass it through, carry it round, and it will fail to draw to itself the bits of iron that may lie concealed therein; the needles and nails and iron filings will all lie motionless and dead; but should there be in it any clippings and shavings, any fibres and feathers, they will all cling tenaciously to its little head. And every child is turned out to the world a magnet of some sort ; M' .ri I'' 1 1 I 10 THE LIFE OF yESUS. •nd better far for parents to endeavour to impart to iiem the right attraction than to be always at it clearing their surroundings. The fact is, you cannot clear their surroundings in a country so thickly populated as Great Britain ; you cannot cut them off from all contact with vice and irreligion ; but I will tell you what you can do — you can impart to them the right attraction. Some children are steel magnets : they draw to themselves all th<»t is solid and valuable and precious. Otliers are only wax magnets : they attract only the clippings a"d shavings, the fibres and feathers, of society ; they have affinity with everything that is frivolous and absurd. Place them in the cleanest-swept and best-garnished sphere possible, and they will draw to themselves all the base rubbish of the neighbourhood. Parents, spend less time in removing from the way of your children things obnoxious and hurtful, for in spite of your strictest vigilance they will come across them sooner than you anticipate ; and spend more time in instilling into their minds principles which have no affinity with such things. Seek to make them steel magnets, and not wax ones. " He went down with them, and came to Nazareth," and yet entirely escaped the slightest taint of evil. "He did no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth." 2. "We further learn that He discharged with the utmost fidelity the duties of society, the duties that devolved upon Him as a citizen of Nazareth. " He went down with them, and came to Nazareth," and there, adds the P>angelist very significantly, " He grew in favour with God and men." I confess to a strong liking for the phrase that "He THE LIFE OP yESUS. tt grew in favour with men." The time was to arrive when men would show Him no favour, and grant Him no quarter, xvhen His own townsmen would lead Him to the brow of the hill whereon their city was built, that they might cast Him down headlong. But during His private residence at Nazareth He succeeded in winning the favour of men — He knew what it was to luxuriate m the gclilen opinions of His neighbours. And let none of you, young people, despise the favour of men ; to please society is not altogether an unworthy aim. Are you then to follow the lead of Public Opinion ? Certainly not ; Public Opinion should never be allowed to take the lead, but you must not therefore infer that it is shut out of the procession altogether. It has a place, and ought to have a place, in your thoughts, though not the chief one. Favour with God must precede favour with men. Jesus grew in favour with God first, with men afterwards : let this furnish you with a rule for your life. Please God first; let that be your highest aim. Please men next; let that occupy a subordinate position. And if they ever come in conflict, the lower must give way to the higher. For thirty yeais Jesus Christ found tliem beautifully to coincide ; but in the latter part of His life He found them widely to diverge. But He did net hesitate which path to pursue ; so long as circumstances permitted, " He followed peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord ; " but when peace with men and holiness in the sight of God began to clash, He flung away peace and firmly clung to holiness. And if it lie in your power to grow in favour with God and men, it is your stringent duty to do so. To pain o '( lli ! ^■ fill ■U|: I tl ' I 12 THE LIFE OF JESUS. your fellow-creature needlessly is unpardonable rudeness. Some Christians, alas ! have a foolish idea that to be upright in character, they must be downright in speech ; that to speak the truth, they must do it rudely, bluntly, ■ uncouthly. But truth should never be blunt — it should be sharp and shining and smooth like a soldier's sword. " The wisdom that is from above is gentle," ladylike. And if at any time circumstances make it imperative thiit ycu should use the lance, you may as well imitate Jonathan, and first take the precaution of dipping it in honey — it will do its work none the worse for it. " He grew in favour with men." This supposes that He was studious of the little proprieties of every-day life. There are men who cling with indomitable tenacity to the fundamental verities ; rather than relax their hold of them, they will go cheerfully to the stake to die. But they are culpably regardless of the little politenesses of social intercourse — they never grow in favour with men. They remind one of a rugged granite rock, firm, solid, and white under the meridian light; buir no flower grows in its clefts, no snowdrop or fox- glove, no primrose or daisy, softens the untarnislied hardness. They are men of strong principles, but of ungracious disposition ; they never grow in favour with men. But Jesus Christ, besides holding firmly to the great principles, paid attention ^o the little urbanities of life ; He did not deem them beneath His notice. It is not beneath the notice of the sweet briar to emit fragrance ; it is not beneath the notice of the I'ainbow to look beautiful ; and it was not beneath the notice of Jesus Christ to be genial and kind. And I can- m THE LIFE OF JESUS. 13 didly cori'ess that I am daily more enamoured with what may be called the minor traits of His character. I see wonderful calibre in the momentous and critical events of His life ; but the sweet graces, the subtle elegances, which continually reveal themselves on the most ordinary occasions, impress my soul more deeply still. They are like the evanescent hues of silk, too delicate and shadowy to be handled ; from every fresh standpoint they reveal a new shade, yet every shade is unspeakably beautiful. We can no more catch them and discuss them verbally in the pulpit than we can catch sunbeams and exhibit tliem to your view in well- assorted bundles. Itcnan is surely right in divining this to be one reason why in every age and clime women become so fondly attached to His person and character. They instinctively perceive the subtle beauties of His life and are fascinated. We see more of one's real character and inner disposition in the casual look of the eye, the sudden smile of the mouth, the incidental remark of the tongue, the constantly alternating lights and shades of the countenance — the innumerable evanescent expressions of the whole man — than in any conscious effort to accomplish an extra- ordinary task. Great things may tell you what a man can do ; little things tell you best what a man i<. Look at this wondrous universe. You see it stretching away into the distant and the vast ; you see it also descending into the little and the n:inute. When you want to prove what God can do, you point to the great and the bulky ; ycu descant on the loftiness of the firmament, the magnitude of worlds, the sublimity *• n I I M 14 THE LIFE OF JESU!^ of mountains, and the roar of thunders. But when you want to show what God is, you confine yourself to the tiny and the minute ; you speak of the daisies and their tints, the birds and their songs, the insects and their organisms. In the great we see what God can do ; in the little what He is. Give me a rose and give me a comet; which do you recommend me to take as an index to the Divine Heart ? Not the comet, but the rose. The fiery world with its tail of flame, rushing headlong through the sky, as if commissioned to set the universe on fire, tells us in impressive eloquence of some awful glory that is hidden in God. But the rose and its softness, its leaves and their fragrance, its tints and their delicacy, tell me in strains sweeter and more captivating of wliat I may expect to find in His heart. A God who could conceive a rose, and create a rose, and paint a rose, and perfume a rose, must be a Being of infinite pathos and indescribable delicacy. A Jove could never be the Maker of a rose ; there must be some correspondence between the cause and the effect. Now Jesus Christ might daily perform miracles and thus increase in the admiration of men ; it was only by attend- ing to the little elegances of social intercourse He could grow in their favour. By His questions and answers He astonished doctors in the Temple; by His gentle- ness and tenderness He pleased the inhabitants of Nazareth. Greatness, cleverness, power, scholarship, dazzle; the gentle feminine virtues only can win your affections and obtain your good wishes. " He grew in favour with men." I feel very grateful for this verse. Christ on the mountain-side delivering sermons, Christ THE LIFE 01' JESUS. »5 on board ship stilling storms, Christ driving devils helter- skelter out of humanity, Christ on the brink of the grave speaking a word that penetrates the eternities and dis- turbs the cemeteries of the world, — all that reveals to me the character of the Public Teacher. But Christ growing in favour with the rude inhabitants of a Galilean village shows me what kind of man He was in private life, what kind of friend He was in His native town, what kind of companion He was in His own home. 3. And in leading the life of a citizen the context shows He was doing the work of God. " Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's business ? " If there is a must in it, it is evident He cannot leave it; and that in going down to Nazareth He continued to be about it. The truth is, society is a Divine institution ; and in serving it, we do God's work. Jesus Christ lived in Nazareth to realise the Divine idea of a citizen, to reduce to actuality, to embody in a life, the thought as it existed in the Divine mind. Men had to see the perfect life acted out before their eyes. He was not of the world — not of it in its way of thinking, not of it in its way of feeling, not of it in its way of living ; not of it, yet in it. And as He was, so are we, — placed in the midst of society, and yet of : Divine citizenship. The highest ideal of Christian life is city life. " Ye are a city set on a hill." The life of innocent humanity was a garden or rural life. "The Lord God planted a garden east- ward in Eden, and put man there." It was a free, simple, country life. " But ye are come to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem," and your life henceforth must be city life. Archbishop Trench, I J' '•■{' III I : !: ! i6 THE LIFE OF JESUS. contrasting the city of the New Testament with the garden of the Old, points out the expensiveness of the former — a city costs more to make than a garden, the redeemed life of humanity has made greater demands upon the riches of the Divine Love than primeval life. That no doubt is true; but it appears to me that the chief point of the contrast lies, not in the costliness, but in the quality of the life suitable for each. City life is a higher type than country life ; it is a more advanced development ; it demands greater polish and self-control. Thus Humanity is progressing notwithstanding the multitudinous obstacles of sin. We began in Genesis iu a garden, we end in the Apocalypse in a town ; we began in Genesis in a field, we finish in Kevelation in a city. Christian life is a social life, and by serving it we do God's work. III. Jesus Christ in industrial life. " He went down with them, and came to Nazareth," and there He dwelt from the age of twelve till His appearing to Israel at the age of thirty. And no doubt the conscience of Christendom is right in concluding that He did not spend the intervening years in indolence, that He diligently worked at the trade of His foster- father Joseph. One of the ecclesiastical fathers, Justin Martyr, I believe, mentions that His chief employment consisted in making ploughs for the agriculturists of the surrounding country. " Is not this the carpenter ? " once asked His fellow-citizens in blank astonishment. Oh, infinite condescension ! The world looks back with wonder and admiration on Peter the Great stepping THE LIFE OF JESUS. 17 down from the throne of all the Russias, and dofiRng His imperial robes, to work as an artizan in the dock- yards of England and Holland, that He might give a salutary example to his subjects, and be able to impart to them solid instruction in the important department of ship-building. But what think ye of Him who left the Throne of glory for the workshop of the Nazarene carpenter ? What think ye of Him who is the Maker and Builder of the Universe stooping to manufacture ploughs for the farmers of Palestine ? What think ye of Him who with His compass marked the orbits of the planets, and with His hand sent the stars spinning through infinite space, bending at the journeyman's bench and executing the orders of His own creatures ? Let the heavens wonder and the earth be glad, for in His con- descension is our life. I. By thus entering into industrial life He shows that work may be made sacred. His work was as sacred as His preaching — His ploughs were as holy as His sermons. Open your monthly periodicals, and you often come across such a heading as this — " The Divinity of Work." Certainly the work of the ministry can claim nothing more sacred than that. Do I then wish to destroy the idea of " holy orders ? " By no means ; I only wish to extend it. All I say is, that every man who is in business is, and ought to consider himself to be, in holy orders. The preacher that expounds the Bible is not on that account a whit holier than the journeyman who prints it. The bishop that writes a commentary is not on that account a whit more sacred than the compositors who arrange the letters and press i ?; 1 ! i I i8 THE LIFE OF JESUS. them on paper. All depends, not on the work you do, but on the spirit in which you do it. It is not the gift that sanctifies the altar, but the altar the gift. It is not the work that consecrates the workman, but the workman the work. Why — a chimney-sweep is in holy orders provided he sweep the chimneys clean. " A servant with this clause Makes drudgery divine ; Who sweeps a room, as for thy laws. Makes that and the action fine." 2. He further shows that work is not incompatible with the highest religious attainments. He worked diligently, no doubt, at His earthly calling, and yet continued in unbroken communion with God. Un- fortunately, many of the primitive Christians believed business and religion to be incompatible ; hence the division to the world on one hand, and to cloisters and monasteries on the other. Christianity and literature were looked upon as inimical ; hence the distinction in the realm of letters into sacred and profane. Tlie services of the sanctuary and of the shop were looked upon as widely separated ; hence the distinction into clergy and laity. Tiie clergy were looked upon as in holy orders ; where then were the masses ? In unholy orders ? The idea ! These unwarrantable and mischievous distinctions we all agree to deny in their old breadth ; nevertheless, they still linger in the mind of Christendom. We have heard congregations sing with much ardour such hymns as this — ■ THE LIFE OF JESUS. " Riper and riper yet Each lioiir let me become ; Less fit for scenes below, More fit for such a home." 19 " Less fit for scenes below ! " But is it true that the more fit you become for heaven, the less fit you are for earth ? I do not believe it. I believe the best man for the next world is also the best man for this. I believe in the compatibility of religion and business ; I believe it possible to make the best of the two worlds. No ; depend upon it, business is not antagonistic to spirituality of mind. You ask for the proof: here it is — Jesus Christ working at the trade of a carpenter among the- half-heathenish population of Nazareth, and yet living in unbroken communion with His Father. 3. By following a trade, He further showed that the highest purpose of work is not fortune but discipline. Jesus Christ worked liard at Nazareth; but His hard woik did not bring him a fortune. Yet He gained something by it — He gained discipline. Were the amas- sing of money th.e chief end of labour, then He must have missed it. But the fact that He did miss it proves to us that it is not the chief end, nor even a by-end — that it is only one of the accidents of work. Now I say nothing against making a fortune ; at all events, it is better than unmaking it. What I decry is the tendency manifest in the present age to make material riches the chief end of labour, and to convert the world into a huge mint, and men and women into so many machines for making money. Humanity is reduced into a sum in arithmetic, and man's worth is put down in pounds, shillings, and ■1 ,l 'I 20 THE LIFE OF JESOii. iii! pence. In the language of certain savage tribes, souls are called stomachs ; in the language of English commerce in this nineteenth century of the Christian era, they are, forsooth, called liands. The highest point of ambi- tion among the nude tribes of the woods is to get some- thing to eat ; hence they liave no more dignified name for man than a stomach : the highest point of ambition in a country like ours is money ; hence men are looked upon as so many hands wherewith to get it. The Scrip- tures speak of the " souls Abraham got him in Haran ; " then servants were called souls. But now, alas ! they are called " hands." Atid I protest against belittling our nature by calling it a hand. Not that I despise the hand ; perhaps in no other member of the body is so significantly marked the superiority of man over the irrational creatures ; and I do not complain that men are hard- worked, — they ought to be hard- worked in a world like ours ; but I do aver that the hand is not the whole nor the noblest part of man. Fortune is all very well if it meets you on the turnpike road ; but it is not worth your while to climb over hedges and wade through ditches to catch it. Fortune is all very well in its way, but let me tell you who are bedazzled with its glitter — it is not worth your while to be damned for it, it is not worth your while to fritter away your best manhood to obtain it. If to make a fortune is not the chief end of business, what then is it ? It is to hiake men. An old nurse of James the First asked him to make her son a gentleman for her sake. " Indeed, nurse," was the reply, ** that I cannot do. I can make him a duke or an earl ; but I cannot make him a gentleman." But what English THE LIFE OF JESUS. 21 royalty could not do, God Almighty proposes to accom- plish ; by means of work He resolves to develop us from lowest animalhood right up all the way to royallest man- hood. " Cursed be the ground for thy sake." That is to say, the earth is struck barren, not so nmch because of your sin and as the result of your transgression; but rather for your good, to promote your well-being. " Cursed is the ground for your sake." Hard work is a supreme blessing to humanity. By making work, not a choice, but a necessity, God instituted the best means to get humanity on. Not to get your circumstances on, and leave you in the same place. His principal aim is to get yu2b on ; and in order to get you on. He may find it necessary to beat your circumstances back. In order to show you heaven, there is a " need-be " to throw you on your back on a bed of sickness. But never mind, — the vision is worth the sacrifice. Jacob in exile dreamt a brighter dream than he ever dreamt at home. John on the barren rocks of Patmos saw diviner sights than he ever beheld in Ephesus, surrounded by loving elders and devoted disciples. John Bunyan, in Bedford gaol, saw grander visions and dreamt stranger dreams than he ever did in the enjoyment of liberty. And the Almighty may find it necessary to shatter your fortune, and fling you on your back on the ground to show you the magnificent panorama of another world. " But my dibappointments in life, my failures in business, almost crush me ; I am getting back in the world ! " is the cry of anguish I hear wrung from some heart-sore and oppressed one. Are you, my brother ? I am very sorry to hear it. I suppose we cannot all get on in this world of ours, and my text I «i^!li i;t U THE LIFE OF JESUS. reminds us of another who worked very hard, who followed His trade diligently, but did not get on very well except towards Gethseniane, Calvary, and the gravo. He can sympathise with you ; He stands by your side, ready to share your burden ; He stoops, He bends ; may you have the grace to roll it on His shoulders ! What is Christianity ? God bending beneath and bearing aloft the burden of the world. If work does not better your earthly condition, it will improve your heart ; if it does not add to your fortune, it will considerably augment your manhood ; if it will not bring you aflluence in this life, it will help to qualify you for a more abundant entrance on the rich, profound life on yonder side the grave. IV. Jesus Chribt in His religious or temple life. I. The context shows us that He was in His Fathers house, and that whilst there the blessed and glorious truth of His Sonship dawned upon Him. All rich natures, all deep and fertile natures, feel an attraction towards God's temple. There is so much mystery appealing powerfully to the worshipful faculty, so much solemn grandeur subduing the heart and carrying it captive, such sublimity and loftiness in the service of the temple, though outwardly it be but a barn, that it gives ample scope for the imagination. Hence all rich, poetical natures find their proper food and their appropriate atmosphere in the service of God's house. And the con- dition on which Jesus Christ attained a sense of His filial relation was attendance on the prescribed ordinances of religion ; in the temple the truth flashed through His soul THE LtFE OE yESVS. 33 ill all its dazzling splendour — " God is My Father, I am His Son." Tliis idea now took possession of His soul ; by degrees His soul took possession of the idea. On the same condition can we realise our relation to God. The people who forget the assembling of them- selves together, as the manner of some is, who never actively concern themselves about God's work, will never attain to a sense of their Divine sonship. This is the reward only of those who serve the Lord day and night in His temple, spending their time and strength in Sabbath schools and similar educational and benevole'nt institutions. By faith in Christ we receive the "adop- tion of sons ; " but it is by work for Christ and prayerful dependence on Him that "we receiv( the spirit of adop- tion, whereby we cry, Abba, Father." 2. He was in the Temple, asJcing and answering ques- tions. He was but a child of twelve, and yet He declares He is engrossed in His Father's work. What work could He at that age be engaged in ? The answer is plain — the work of learning. Some, I know, have described, and others have painted, this scene as " Christ Teaching in the Temple." But it is truer to nature to view it, not as Christ teaching, but as Christ learning, in the Temple. He was " in the Temple, sitting in the midst of the doctors," as was the custom with Jewish students, " both hearing them and asking them ques- tions." His mind thirsted for knowledge ; in the eager- ness of youth He propounded problems for the accom- plished doctors to solve, problems which no doubt puzzled His youthful intellect, problems so weighty that " all that heard Him were astonished at His understand- 1: !^i I ! ' 1 if! '11 24 THE LIFE OF JESUS. ing and answers." Jesus Christ at this tender age did not assume the functions of a teacher — He was too natural to overstep the limits of His age ; He was now a learner, availing Himself of the facilities afforded Him by the Temple classes to grow in the knowledge of the Divine Will. He " increased in wisdom," just as our children do, and by the same means of prayer, study, and inquiry, subject, however, to the vast difference brought about by sin in our children and the total absence of sin in Him. That difference was doubtless immense ir t^^he facility of acquiring knowlclge. We are apt to think that sin has only spoiled the heart ; it has spoiled the intellect quite as much. We are all ready to admit that it has made havoc of our happiness ; it has made quite as great a havoc of our knowledge. " Plato is only the ruins of an Adam, Aristotle only the rubbish of a perfect man." But as Christ was free from sin. His insight was quicker, clearer, deeper than ouro. An intellect twelve years old free from sin will astonish intellects fifty years old tainted by the disease. The water-lily, growing in the midst of water, opens its leaves, expands its petals, at the first pattering of the shower, whilst other flowers in the same neighbour- hood art quite insensible to the descent of the rain- drops. Why ? Because reared in water, iu has quicker sympathy with rain. And so with the Lily of our Humanity: His soul, planted, as it were, in the midst of the ocean of omniscience, rejoiced in knowledge with a quicker and more refined sympathy than has ever ueen witnessed before or since in the history of our race. ■ ■ tj 'I THE LIFE OF JESUS. 25 3. Observe, further, His total absorption in His Father's work. " Wist ye not that I must be about My Father's business ? " Literally, " in My Father's business." Not about it, but in it. He was so swallowed up in the religion of the Temple that probably for the space of three days He forgot all about His earthly parents and the return of the caravansery to His Galilaean home ; a proper introduction to a life entirely devoted to the service of God rnd human kind. One day He enters the Temple and drives out the tradesmen, the traffickers, and the exchangers of money ; " and His disciples remembered that it was written, The zeal of Thine house hath eaten Me up." He did not say it, only the dis- ciples remembered it as they witnessed His enthusiasm, His thorough absorption in the Divine work. He walked the marble corridors of the Temple like a flame from the Everlasting Burnings. " Then they remembered that it was written, The zeal of Thine house hatli eaten Me up." I have often thought that, even if the cruci- fixion had never taken place, Jesus Christ would have died a young man, consumed in the fires of His own heart and brain. He did not live long, but He lived very fast — He lived life through. He lived more in thirty-three years than we could in a thousand years. Put a robin redbreast in a glass cage, filled with oxygen gas ; and in a few minutes his little eyes will begin to glisten, his little heart will begin to throb, his little wings will begin to flutter, and his little throat will pour out cataracts of sweetest melody, and in fifteen minutes he will fall down dead; having expended in that short time a sufficient quantity of life to last him I'll'l 111 in ;i> II if Ii 11 •'I i - i ! !1 26 TUB LIFE OP JESUS. under ordinary circumstances for five years. Similarly Jesus Christ lived very fast, His head towered high above the stars, He inhaled the pure atmosphere v.f eternity — He crowded all the "forces of the world to come," all the " power of an endless life," into the short space of thirty-three years. "Wist ye not that I must be in My Father's business ? " Must, must, MUST. great word ! mysterious word ! A word without moods and without tenses, a word without a conjugation, a word that will stand erect even if the heavens fall ! MUST. Have we ever felt the power of this " must " ? Has the sense of duiv and obligation been awakened in us ? Do we frequent the services of the Church, teach in the Sabbath School, visit the widows and the orphans, not simply because we like but because we must ? Is our religion reducible to pleasure or to duty ? And let us remember that it is time to awaken in our children at the age of twelve the awful sense of duty, to impress on their minds the in- violable sacredness of the words " ought " and " must." ( 27 ) THE LO^D JESUS AS A HIGH PRIEST. BY THE REV. LEWIS EDWARDS, D.D., BALA. "But Christ being come an High Priest of good things to come, by a greater and more perf( ct tabernacle, not niaile with hands, that is to say, not of this building ; neither by tiie blood of goats and calves, but by His own blood He entered in once into the holy place, having obtained eternal redemption for us." — Heb. ix. ii, 12. The nature and purpose of the priestly office have been dearly set forth iu the fifth chapter of tliis epistle and whe first verse : " For every high priest taken from among men is ordained for men in things pertaining to God, that he may offer both gifts and sacrifices for sins." Our great things are the things between us and God, "the things pertaining to God." These are so great, and have become so bad, that we ourselves can never reduce them to order. Whatever the complications between us and one another, it is not necessary to have a priest to mediate between us ; but our case, as between us and God, is such that we must have One to appear for us. One holy, undefiled, and separate from sinners ; and even He cannot go to God for us without blood ; and therefore an essential part of a priest's duties is to sacrifice. A deep consciousness of this truth is to be seen in the history of the pagan nations of antiquity. i r I ;; {.' ' '■ * ! Jp >l 4 H II' I ! 28 THE LORD jESVS ,;i!i; even the most civilised ; whicli of necessity proves one of two things — either that the custom of offering sacri- fices arises naturally from the consciousness of guilt in the human mind, and that thus the light which the Creator kindled in the consciences of men bears witness to the correspondence between Divine Revelation and the requirements of human nature ; or that the nations had received imperfect information through tradition of the revelation made to special persons before the time of Moses, and afterwards with greater minuteness through Moses to the Hebrew people. Whichever view we take, we must go back to God to discover the origin of the custom of sacrificing as practised among the heathen. It is, moreover, a remarkable fact in the annals of the world that this custom was annulled, not only in Judsea, but in every other country, when Christ sacrificed Him- self, and that it gradually decayed and vanished from the face of the earth. But the custom of sacrificing did not so completely disappear in so short a time from among any nation as from among that in which it had struck its roots deepest, and which had received all the regulations pertaining thereto directly from God. The Jews are to-day in this condition, that they believe as firmly as ever in the neces- sity of sacrificing, and yet have not sacrificed for eighteen hundred years. Is there not mystery here ? The reason they assign is that the Temple in Jerusalem has been destroyed; but this reason rests on a stronger reason, which is to be found in John's explanation of the words of the Lord Jesus — " But He spake of the temple of His body." When Jesus said, "Destroy this temple, and in three .45 .4 HIGH PRIEST. 29 |.::l..i 1 days I will raise it; up," He pointed no doubt to the material structure out of which He had just cast the exchangers of money, for He would not have led them to understand this had He not in reality meant this. This idea is true ; but it is based on another idea, as the act is based on another act. A suggestion is here con- tained that they would demolish the Temple with their own hands; but if they saw the whole meaning they would have understood that it was by destroying the temple of His body they would accomplish that demoli- tion. By destroying the temple of Ciirist's body, the Jews put an end to the whole service of their own temple ; but by rising from the dead, Christ established a new economy, of which the temple of His body is the fixed centre for ever. God never destroys for the sake of destroying, nor pulls down the old to leave a void in its place. The Divine method is to overcome evil by uplifting that which is good, and to remove the good, after it has served its purpose, by introducing that which is more excellent. The fact that the old sacrifices have ceased is in itself a sufficient proof that some greater sacrifice has taken place. The feeble light of the Old Dispensa- tion would not have so completely disappeared had not the Dayspring from on high visited the world. The first vanished from sight, not by being extinguished, but by being swallowed up in stronger light. Thus Jesus Christ Himself speaks ; " Think not that I am come to destroy the law or the prophets : I am not come to destroy, but to fulfil." He needs not pull any one down in order to raise Himself up: rather such greatness ^i \M i . ! "i |ii''-; i ,.:l i«;|i hi m i ' 30 THE LORD JESUS lodges in His sacrifice that it has surrounded with immortal lustre the types which foreshadowed it. But before the Old Dispensation could be thus clothed with immortality, it was necessary that it should first die. The system of symbols and types was necessary and valuable iu the infancy of human nature, because it was not in a few ages that the world became prepared to receive the religion of the New Testament. Numerous proofs are not wanting to show that a nation requires to be trained for ages to receive even civil liberty ; much more necessary was it for the world to undergo a long training to prepare it to receive the liberty of the GospeL But though figures and symbols are useful as a means of education to man whilst he is a child, the thoughtful mind feels in looking at them that they are not the " good things to come." The tempests of life are coming, stern events are approaching, when the " figures " must give way to objects more real. Accordingly, some of the believing Jews doubtless felt, as they contemplated the customs prescribed by the law of Moses, that these were not the "good things to come;" that the God they worshipped was truly holy, that sin was a real evil, and that consequently the sacrifice must be a sacrifice in deed and in truth. This is what the Apostle teaches in these words concerning the Lord Jesus Christ : that He was come an High Priest of good things to come ; and that therefore He had gone through the true taber- nacle to the true holy place ; that there was true worth in His blood, true perfection in His work, and thai He obtained lor us true liberty ; and that consequently He far excelled the Jewish High Priest in the most remark- '1 1 AS A HIGH PRIEST. 3J able event belonging to his office, namely, his entering into the Most Holy Place on the great Day of Acone- nient. >■ 4i!l . i I I. Jesus Christ as a High Priest much excels in the GREATNESS AND PERFECTNESS OF THE TABERNACLE. Jesus Christ entered " by a greater and more perfect tabernacle." By the tabernacle here we are to under- stand, say some, the expanse above, the stellar firma- ment, through which Christ entered into the Holy Place. But the ablest commentators, and among them Chry- sostom, Augustine, Calvin, and Bengel, understand by it the body of Jesus Christ. And the author of this Epistle furnishes a strong ground for that interpretation in chap. x. 20, where he says, " By a new and living way, which He hath consecrated for us, through the veil, that is to say. His flesh." A hint to the same purport is to be found in the text, for it is averred of this taber- nacle that "it is not of this building," that is, not of this creation. The humanity of the Lord Jesus is the beginning of a new creation. But it is not the visible body in itself that is intended by the tabernacle, as it is not the visible blood in itself that is meant by the " blood ; " but human nature in the person of the Son of God, in which the Word has *' tabernacled " among us, and by which He is the "beginning of the creation of God." This is taught as an essential truth in the Bible, that in the body of Christ God dwells : " for in Him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily " (Col. ii. 9). " And the Word," says John, " was made flesh." Not only He fir •i'i ! H rl ll :i'i .! . : lii' 'I til ; ! ^i 1 * V, if 32 THE LORD JESUS took flesh into union with Himself, but " the Word became flesh." Deity and Humanity are in Him one person; and though the Deity was not converted into Humanity, yet the Divinity of the person imparts divine dignity and worth to what He did through His human nature. It was necessary for the Son to dwell thus personally in human nature, that the Father might have u flc tabernacle wherein to dwell graciously. Human nature in itself is greater than all the stellar heavens ; but human nature iii the person of the Eternal Word is a tabernacle so capacious and perfect that the Creator Himself can rest here for ever, and re\'eal therein His essential nature to His creatures. Infinite power and wisdom are to be seen in the creation. But though God is almighty, yet. He is not power ; though He is omni- scient, yet He is not knowledge. God's nature is some- thing difF' rent from infinite power or infinite knowledge. The Devil is mighty and intelligent, but he bears not the slightest similitude to God. What, then, is God in His nature ? There are two sentences in John's first Epistle which furnish a full answer to this query. In i John i. 5 it is said, " God is light ; " and in chap. iv. 1 6, " God is love." This is what God is. But the next question is — Where is He to be found ? Where can we see Him, as He is holiness and love, infinite and inseparable ? When we turn our eyes up to heaven, we behold the "work of His fingers," but He Himself is out of sight. We see His possessions, which show that their owner is incal- culably rich ; but we should like to ascertain where the owner dwells, that we may know what soit of one He is Himself. The answer to this is, that we must seek !:i AS A HIGH PRIEST. 3$ Hira, not in the sun nor in the stars, but in the man Christ Jesus. Here, and here alone, the whole nature of God comes to light. Here He is just and a Saviour, here He is infinite holiness and infinite love. This truth was portrayed to Moses, as we find re- corded in Exodus xxxiv. 5, 6, 7. God had said to him before, in Exodus vi. 2, 3, "I am Jehovah; and I appeared unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and unto Jacob, by the name of God Almighty, but by my name Jehovah was I not known to them." Observe the difference : it is not said " by my name o/God Almighty ; " as may be seen by the italics, the word " name " is not at all joined in the Hebrew to God Almighty ; but it is said " by my name Jehovah." Whatever is the signification of this word, it is His name, — it sets forth what He is. After this, in Ex. xxxiii. 18, Moses beseeches to see His glory; and the Lord promises to proclaim His name, and to put him in the clift of the rock, whilst His glory passes by. In this proclamation we have made known to us the meaning of the name Jehovah, and of what God is in His nature. " And the Lord passed by before him, and pro- claimed, Jehovah, Jehovah God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and abundant in goodness and truth, keep- ing mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and trans- greyoion and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty ; visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, and upon the children's children, unto the third arid to the fourth generation." This is the Lord's glory ; and it is possible for us to have in the man Christ Jesus a fuller view of this glory than Moses ever enjoyed. Christ went through this tabernacle. The Jewish ..f V r ii-iii III ii i ; I d A ■Ili til Hi I fli! [, 34 THE LORD JESUS high priest went once every year through the tabernacle to within the veil ; but he was going and returning within the bounds of the temporal world ; for his priest- hood only reached to things external. But the true High Priest must go through the tabernacle to another world. He had been here, " tempted in all things even as we are, yet without sin." He had been living amongst us, as one of ourselves, yet holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners. And more than this were not necessary, had He not been standing in the room of sinners. But inasmuch as we are guilty, and that He was acting for us, and that we must have our liberty or redemption from another world, our High Priest went through the tabernacle of His humanity into the spiritual world; He went "through the veil, that is to say, His flesh," to the great invisible world ; and He came back the third day, with the gracious proclamation upon His lips — " Peace unto you." II. Jesus Christ as a High Priest much excels in the GREATNESS OF THE HOLY PlACE. There was no need for a special word in this place to denote the greatness of the Holy Place, as it follows naturally from the preceding words. "Christ, by a greater and more perfect tabernacle, entered in once into the Holy Place ; " and if the tabernacle were " greater and more perfect," it follows of necessity that the Holy Place was so likewise. The same thought belongs to both. Christ entered through the tabernacle of His un- tainted humanity to a corresponding Holy Place ; He went into the Holy Place of the eternal world; He AS A HIGH PRIEST. n entered into the Holy of Holies of the universe. But God never does anything hurriedly ; so Christ, after receiving the keys of the invisible world, took forty days to appear to His disciples at different times, in order to assure their minds that all power is given unto Him in heaven and on earth, and that a clear way, which no one may block, is opened unto them from earth to heaven. Then He ascended, in quiet unruffled glory, to take His proper place as the minister of the sanctuary, and sat down on the right hand oi Majesty on high. He entered into the abode of the Divine Presence, where seraphs hide their faces with tlieir wings : He went higher than thev all, to some unutterable glory ; He went on to the throne, and He went there in our nature. He sat in our nature on the right hand of the Throne of Majesty. There is not a higher place in all heaven than where Jesus Christ is to-day in our nature. He is as high as God Himself could raise Him. " Wherefore God also hath highly exalted Him, and given Him a name which is above every name." This is the " working of His mighty power, which He wrought in Christ, when He raised Him from the dead, and set Him at His own right hand in the heavenly places, far above all principality, and power, and might, and dominion, and every name that is named, not only in this world, but also in that which is to come." The apostle deemed of vast importance the considera- tion that we have a priest in heaven. He returns to it again and again. " Now, of the things which we have spoken this is the sum," rather the head, the crown. What then is the crown ? " We have such a High Priest, who is set on the right hand of the Throne of the ■J!ih 'I 36 THE LORD JESUS 4'? Majesty in the heavens." Why is there such importance in tlie fact that we have a priest in heaven ? Because in heaven our matter, our cause,* is to be discussed. Eveiy one of us has liis cause, and that cause is in heaven. Not in the metropolis ; in heaven our cause is to be tried. Have we ever thouj,'ht of it seriously ? Tlie great cause, the cause between us and God ! We liave a cause that reaches all the way from the earth to the throne of God ! It is a great, it is a fearful thing to be a man ; man has a cause in heaven. The irrational creatures arou!id us, they have no cause to be tried in heaven ; they shall come and go without any account entered in God's book against them. But we are men ! We shall not move the lip to say a word, but forthwith that word is down in the books of heaven. Heaven takes notice of us. How precious then the thought, we have a High Priest concerning Him- self in heaven about our cause ; one great enough to plead our cause before God's throne in the third heaven ! Let us commit our cause to Him ! Though it be a bad cause, He can rectify the wrong, and raise us to the favour of the throne. He is a High Priest, gone through the tabernacle into the Holiest of All. Now, the religion of Christ has to do with the things of heaven. The objects of the Jewish religion were on the earth. But this is the main stumblingblock, and at the same time the principal excellence of the Gospel — that its things are in heaven. " Ye are not come unto the mountain that might be touched." The things of religion now are not objects of sensation, but objects of faith. And this is the reason why the apostle treats so * Welsh achos, matter, cause, case. AS A HIGH put EST. 37 much about faith towards the end of this epistle. " But ye are come to Mount Sion, and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem." We also have a city, W(i also have a Sion and a Jerusalem ; but not on the earth. " Ve are come to an innumerable company of angels." Not to tlie figures of cherubs are ye come ; no, but ye arc come to the nngcils lhoms^J :;tf 11 Ml i M ' aid to preach Christ and Him crucified. "None of these things moved him, neither counted he his life dear unto him, so that he might finish his course with joy and the ministry which he received of the Lord Jesus." What was a stumbling-block to the Jews, was foolish- ness to the Greeks. It was sheer nonsense to them to worship a man who was crucified, to trust in a Saviour who could not — or at least did not — save Himself. But in the face of all this, Paul could lift up an unblushing front. He was not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ. He was ready to plant the standard of the Cross in the stronghold of heathenism. He was ready to preach the Gospel at Rome, the mistress of the world, the great centre where the great, the wise, and the learned of the world were gathered together. He knew what to expect from such people, — he knew the contempt, the scorn, the llJ.t ( I '''M t V ' r i ; ■m 6o THE GOSPEL A DOGMA AKD A POWER. ridicule, they would pour upon his poor uncovered head ; but lie did not sin-ink from the fiery ordeal, — he was eager for the fray, he was not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ. We live in happier times ; " the lines have fa en unto us in pleasant places, and we have a goodly heritage." A great change has come over the world since the apostolic age. Christi.'inity is now in some sense the religion of the civilised world. The Cross is no loncfer a scandal and a reproach, but an honour and an ornament ; it is woven into the standards of nations, and is the fairest ornament in the diadems of kings. But we must not forfjet that much of the prestige which now belongs to Ciiiistianity is outward, political, and worldly ; and therefore liio offence of the Cross has not altogether ceased. Persecution in its grosser form has passed away, but there is a sense, in which " he who lives godly in Christ Jesus must stiH suffer persecution." If we treat the Gospel as a reality- -if we act as if we believed it — if the life which we live in the flesh be by the faith of the Son of God, many will call us fools, fanatics, and hypo- crites. What insults and mockeries and annoyances has many a Christian to endure in factories and workshops and places of business ? What odiou' and insulting caricatures are continually poured forth from the press against sincere and earnest Christians, those who are the light and leaven and salt of the earth ? There are some who profess to be followers of Christ that join in the unhallowed work. They pour contempt and scorn upon all who reject tlieir novelties, and adhere to the faith once delivered to the saints. They brand them as shams, and |5 THE GOSPEL A DOGMA AND A POWER. 6i imbeciles, and ignoramuses ; and claim for themselves exclusively all the wisdom and all the learning and all the piety in the world. It would seem that darkness was on the face of the earth until they were born, and ever since the light has been shining more and more to the perfect day. It requires no little firmness to meet the scorn of rationalistic religionists. " But be not afraid of their terror, neither be troubled, but s;\i jtify the Lord God in your heart, and be always ready to give an answer to every one that asketh you the reason of the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear." " Should all the forms that men desire Assault my faitli with treacherous art, I'd call them vanity and lies, And bind the Gospel to my heart." * II. We now come to consider the ground of the Apostle's avowal. " I am not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth," — that is to say, it is the instrument and vehicle of Divine power. Some say that tlie Gospel exerts no influence upon its adherents — that it makes no difference in them — that it makes them neither better nor worse. Other religions do produce an effect, whether to make their subjects better or worse is another question. We can tell whether a man is a Jew or not if we come into contact with him. We can tell whether a man is a Mahometan or not, if we have any acquaintance with him ; and we can tell whether a man is a Buddhist or not if on terms of inter- course with him. But we may be intimate with a man 'I'll W^ 62 THE GOSPEL A DOGMA AND A POWER. who calls himself a Christian, from year end to year end, and not be able to find out what religion he is of, or whether he has any religion at all. We must admit that this is true with regard to a great number of professed Christians, but this is not in conflict with the Apostle's statement. What he says is that the Gospel is the power of God unto salvation to every one that helieveth, not to every one that saith he believes. It is easy to repeat, as multitudes do from week to week, the beauti- lui words of the ancient Church : " I believe in God the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth ; and in Jesus Christ, His only Son our Lord, which was con- ceived by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead and buried; He descended into hell, the third day He rose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven, and sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty : from thence He shall come to judge the quick and the dead. I believe in the Holy Ghost, the holy Catholic Church, the communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sin, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting." It is one thing to believe with the mouth, but quite another thing to believe with the heart unto righteous- ness. Faith is not a mere tradition : it is the gift of God, the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. It is possible to imagine that we are believers in Christ while in reality we are unbelievers. Take an illustration from physical science. Many profess to believe that the human body, if allowed to rest quietly in water, will not sink; in other ^vords, that a man, who cannot swim, can float. But it is questionable, if that faith were put to the test, ■ . THE GOSPEL A DOGMA AND A POWER. 63 SID, »i whether it would in many cases vindicate its reality. Dr. Franklin, the well-known Amcican scientist, professed to have the iaith in question, and it was unexpectedly put to the crucial test. He accidentally fell into deep water, and recalling the fact that the human body was buoyant, he kept perfectly still; and though he could not swiiii, he floated until some one came to his rescue. Here was one who professed to believe a certain thing, and proved by his conduct that his belief was a mental reality. But others, who thought they believed the same thing, have proved, by their conduct in the water, that they did not believe the scientific fact. They were drowned simply because they did not believe in reality as they imagined and professed that they did. Does not this exemplify the case of many professing Christians? They may seem to themselves to believe in the Son of God ; but if they were put to a crucial test, such as martyrdom, they would soon become conscious that their faith was not a fact, but a mere phantom of the imagination. We say then that the affirmation of the Apostle in aoK disproved. "The Gospel of Christ is the power of Gi^ct unto salvation to every one that believeth." He bid ample evidence of its power in the case of the hea<-her- Jailer at Philippi, who cried out in terror, "Si^is, what must I do to be saved ? " and believing in God, with ali his house, became a new creature in Christ Jesus : in the case of the conjurers at Ephesus who believed, and brought their books together, valued at fifty thousand pieces of silver, and burnt them before all : and in the Qase of the immoral and dissolute CorinthianSj concerning l:'i m\ m \m I t! H IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) W 1.0 Ui|i 1.1 = Eh tut L25 m 2^ 125 I |22 2.0 18 1.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation \ C^ N? \ \ •• 1 !:! i I hh )\p 66 THE GOSPEL A DOGMA AND A POWER. Who then can entertain the shadow of a doubt that the gospel of Christ was the power of God unto salvation in the life and in the death of the great Apostle of the Gentiles ? Nor has the gospel yet lost its ancient power. It is still mighty through God to the pulling down of the strongholds of Satan. We see its mighty influence in the South Sea Islands, where nations were born in a day. We see its mighty influence in Madagascar (now, alas ! invaded and outraged by an arrogant and selfish foreign power), where savages have been changed into saints, and where the blood of martyrs has been the seed of the church. We see in our own sea-girt isle ten thousand proofs that the heralds of the Cross have not laboured in vain, nor spent their strength for nought. Though we have to lament the existence of a large amount of ungodliness and religious formalism, yet there are multi- tudes throughout the land who are living epistles of Christ, known and read of all men, who live the life of heaven on earth, who, like the Divine Master, go about doing good. I trust that many of you have felt the power of the gospel to save you from fear and foreboding, to breathe into you the breath of a new life, to shake off the fetters of your moral bondage, and to lead you forth to the liberty of the children of God. May God grant that all who hear me this day may receive the truth in the love of it, and be able to say with the Apostle and all true Christians, " I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth." THE GOSPEL A DOGMA AND A POWER. 67 Let me impress upon you the importance of con- fession. Let us not be practically ashamed of Christ, but let us boldly confess Him before the world. "With the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and with the mouth coufession is made unto salvation." Think of this, young men and maidens. Think of this, ye men and women of riper years. Think of this, ye aged pilgrims, " who have to the margin come and soon expect to die." It will be a sad thing to die without avowing your faith in Christ. Tliink of the solemn words of the Son of God, " Whosoever shall be ashamed of Me and of My words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of him also shall the Son of man be asliamed when He cometh in the glory of His Fatlier, with the holy angels." He wlio loved you and died for you will come again a second time to inquire concerning your treatment of His gospel. How dreadful will it be to hear Him say then to any of you, " You were ashamed of Me and My words in a sinful and adulterous genera- tion ; now I am ashamed of you. I cannot acknowledge you amongst My people, I cannot receive you into My Father's house ! " Consider this, ye that forget God. Now is the accepted time, to-day is the day of salvation. im ( 68 ) IWiil ! I i THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH ENTICE- MENTS TO SIN. BY THE REV. OWEN THOMAS, D.D., LIVERPOOL. "Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned? Can one go upon hot coals, and his feet not be burned?" — Pbov. vL 27, 28. One of the manifest characteristics of the Holy Scrip- tures, which particularly fits them to serve the special purposes the Infinite had in view in their inspiration, is the constant use made in them of common truths — truths with which men are perfectly acquainted in con- nection with this world and this life — to illustrate the great moral and spiritual principles, which are of such im- portance to them in their relation to God and the eternal world. In this feature of them they may be regarded as falling under the natural law of the human mind in the acquisition of any knowledge whatever. That law is, that the mind knows the unknown through the known. It gets at the distant through the near, and at the near through the nearer. It ascends to the Divine through the human, and through the material and the temporal mounts up to the spiritual and eternal. And, as a con- sequence, the teaching of the Scriptures, in the feature alluded to, is more specific and intelligible to such a PLAYING WITH ENTICEMENTS TO SIN. 69 creature as man than it could be in any other mode. And not only that, but there is special fitness in this feature to make their teaching more efficient ; to win the attention more easily and thoroughly, to leave a deeper and more lasting impression on the memory, and to secure stronger influences on the heart and the life. The truth thus wears such an aspect that a man must be extraordinarily neglectful to fail of its apprehension, and remarkably obdurate not to feel the importance thereof. And, as you all perceive, this is the feature it has in the words which we have read as a text : " Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned ? Can one go upon hot coals, and his feet not be burned ? " These words are evidently intended to impress more powerfully on the mind of the young man, who is here directly addressed, the necessity of refraining altogether from the occasions of the shameful sin which is here particularly forbidden. That sin, as may be seen, is adultery, a sin which the age and circumstances of such an one make him specially exposed to, and a sin, forsooth, to which thousands of our young people fall a prey. The wise man, in the first place, directs him to the best defence against every tendency to this evil. That defence he finds in the remembrance of, attention to, and con- formity with, the family training he received in the morning of life : " My son, keep thy father's command- ment, and forsake not the law of thy mother." By the father's " commandment " and the mother's " law " we are to understand, I suppose, from the following verses the Divine law in the revelation of it which the nation then v] m li I' r '"\i . ^:n ^•■i i ! ; 1 I i I'; J' ! 1 I ! ! i I 70 THE DAmER OF PLAY!NG WITH possessed, and which godly parents, in obedience to the Divine injunction, were to minutely teach to their off- spring. The parents of this young man had been parti- cularly careful to instruct him in it. Now, my son, says the wise man, return to thy first years ; remember the old house in which thou wast born, and the old hearth on which thou wast reared ; call to mind how thy father used to take thee on his knees to teach thee ; remember how solemnly and adectionately he would warn thee; think how earnestly he was wont to pray for thee : " keep thy father's commandment." Remember also how thy mother used to take thee to her bosom and counsel thee ; remember her anxiety, remember her love, remember her tears. Watch over thyself, wherever thou goest, lest thou disobey the "commandment" which thou heardest thy father repeat ; watch lest thou depart from the " law " communicated to thee by thy mother. And not only so, but view them with the greatest aflection, consider them thy chief ornament ; " bind them continually upon thine heart, and tie them about thy neck." Let them be the main objects of thy affection, the principal elements in thy beauty. Then, in a manner remarkably elegant, he places before him the advantage he would reap by assuming towards the law the attitude prescribed. " When thou goest, it shall lead thee; when thou sleepest, it shall keep thee ; and when thou awakest, it shall talk with thee." The law, you see, is here personified as a wise counsellor, as a careful guardian, and as an interesting companion. " When thou goest, it shall lead thee : " in the most intricate places it will afford thee direction ; ENTICEMENTS TO SIN. ft it will show thee the way thou shouldst go, and the place always thou shouldst put down thy loot. In all thy conduct it will be thy guide, to keep thee from straying from the safe path. " When thou sleepest, it shall keep thee : " when thou hast done with the duties, the difficulties, and the trials of the day, and in weari- ness throwest thyself into the arms of sleep, and when thou art quite unable to take care of thyself, it will be there guarding thee, and careful to keep all evil away. "And when thou awakest, it shall talk with thee:" when thou openest thy eyes in the early morn, in the deepest loneliness, thou shalt find it as a friendly, enter- taining associate, standing by thy bedside, always with something useful and edifying to tell thee. Of that thou mayest be sure, for that is its character : " For the com- mandment is a lamp ; and the law is light ; and reproofs of instruction are the way of life." It will give thee light amid the densest darkness, and will be a safety to thee amid the direst perils. And, especially, it will preserve thee against the parti- cular dangers to which thy age and circumstances make thee peculiarly liable : " to keep thee from the evil woman, from the flattery of the tongue of a strange woman." And it is of prime importance to thee to be kept wholly from her : " Lust not after her beauty in thine heart ; neither let her take thee with her eyelids." Keep thyself entirely from her; let her not have the slightest place in thy thoughts, nor the least advantage over thee. For if she shall, the consequence will be terrible; following her destroys all the elements of happiness in this world, and damns the soul in the next : " For by means of a whorish I liiii \k =1 s I i ! ; I ■1,J ', .. - 1 il i ! i ii 72 THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH woman a man is brought to a piece of bread." His worldly circumstances will be ruined ; from the midst of plenty he will be reduced to want and hunger. And the injury does not stop there; no, the harm reaches farther, it stretches right away into another world : " And the adulteress will hunt for the precious life." Then, in the words read by us as a text, the wise man seems to return again to the necessity of directly re- sisting the evil in the occasion of it, in the temptation to it, and that from the consideration of the impossi- bility of playing with the enticement without falling to the sin : " Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned ? Can one go upon hot coals, and his feet not be burned ? " All the commentators I have happened to consult, I find, take the words as a con- firmation of what is already asserted in the preceding verse : the certainty that punishment will overtake the man addicted to this sin, that that is as certain as that the clothes will be scorched if fire is carried in the bosom, or that the feet will be burned if they tread on hot coals. But it appears to me that what is intended is what has been already remarked : not so much the certainty of punishment for living in sin, as the certainty of sin by playing with the temptation. That meaning seems quite as consonant with the spirit of the words themselves, and rather more consonant with the explana- tion or application of them in the following verse : " So he that goeth in to his neighbour's wife, whosoever touch- eth her, shall not be innocent." The words, it is seen, refer directly to a special sin, a sin, no doubt, that is very flourishing in our country, ENTICEMENTS TO SIN. n and against which we ought to resolutely raise our voice, if we only knew how to do so without doing more harm than good. But they contain a principle, an im- portant principle, of general application to every sin, and to every sin in every aspect of it, to which I should now like to invite your attention : The impossibility for a man to play with the enticement to sin without falling a prey thereto. Now my object, as you see, is to speak not so much against the young man stealing the money or the property of his master, as against his dallying with the temptation to steal ; not so much against adultery in act, as against playing with the lust ; not do much against drunkenness, as against its occasions ; not so much against sin itself, as against the seduction to it ; and that, especially, for the reason we find in the text — the impossibility of dallying with temptation without falling to the sin. " Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned ? Can one go upon hot coals, and his feet not be burned ? " Can one play with sin, without being at last taken captive by it ? The truth of our statement will appear if we take into consideration the following things : — I. That every temptation presented to man addresses itself to a nature that is already corrupt, and therefore liable to take to it. II. That man, in playing with the temptation, puts himself directly in the way that leads naturally to the sin. III. That playing with the temptation to any evil 1 'i !-S' iM 74 THE DANGEH OP PLAYING WITH !l I 111 ! ! shows some degree of bias iii the nature to that par- ticular evil. IV. That playing with temptation brings man into contact with sin only on its pleasurable side, and thus gives it an advantage to make an iuipression favourable to itself on the mind. V. That man, through playing with temptation, weakens his moral power to resist the sin, and gradually gets so debilitated as to be too weak to oppose it. VI. That man, by playing with temptation, at last tempts the Spirit of God to withdraw His protection from him, and to leave him to himself, and a prey to his lust. " Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned ? Can one go upon hot coals, and his feet not be burned ? " I. Every temptation presented to man addresses ITSELF TO A NATURE THAT IS ALREADY CORRUPT, AND THEREFORE LIABLE TO RESPOND TO IT. It appears from the history of mankind that there is force enough in temptation, by keeping the mind in fellowship with it, to influence even holy creatures so as to make them fall. So it happened with our first parents in Eden. They were created " in God's image," " in righteousness and true holiness ; " and yet, " when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her ; and he did eat." I do not profess to understand the philosophy or the metaphysics of the subject. You could soon BNrtCEMENTS TO SIN. 1. entangle me by catechising n»e. How did a holy creature sin ? Huw did man disobey, with nothing in his heart but the })rinciple of obedience ? I cannot trace the origin of the evil. But the fact remains and in sufficiently manifest. The evil has come in, and it hii.s come in somehow into our nature through the com- munion of the mind with the temptation to it. Now, if there was such force in temptation wiien there was nothing but holiness in the mind, what must be its power to a creature that is already depraved ? But that is the condition of mankind in their present estate. " All have sinned, antl come short of the glory of God." " All, both Jews and Greeks, are under sin." " We are by nature the children of wrath." " From the womb we have gone astray, from birth we err, shapen in iniquity, of flesh we are born flesh." This is the history of the race. We are all members of a body that has fallen, branches of a tree whose roots are poisoned. The experience of the race through the ages bears testi- mony to this truth. Men in every generation, in every country, among every nation, of every age, of every grade, under every circumstance, of every natural powei", of every kind of culture mental and moral, prove themselves to be corrupt. Wherever you find a man, you find a sinner. It were as difficult for you to find a man without a body to him, as a man without sin in him, and that sin, by nature, reigning in him. This is not a truth of revelation in an exclusive sense. All mankind, with a few exceptions, acknowledge it ; and all the religions of the world, in some aspect or other, suppose it What specially distinguishes the Bible in 1,1 ^1 < hMxM li ii! I ,1 ri I ■' i! :6 THE DANGER OP PLAYING WtTtt relation to tliis subject is, that it shows us how man came to this estate, and in particular that it reveals to us the glorious way wherein nian may be delivered from it. Thus man is disposed by his nature to receive moral hurt from the temptation, and, when it is presented to him, to be caiit-ht in its entanglements and fall a prey to it. One has been in this v^orld, and only One, who was quite otherwise. He v/as born " that Holy Thing." He lived all His life sinless. " He knew not sin." " "Who did no sin, neither was guile found in His mouth." " Holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners." He was in the midst of sinners, "all the publicans and sinners drawing near unto Him," touching Him, and yet, amid them, separate from them, without contracting a single stain from tliem. He had true humanity, but humanity perfectly spotless. He performed not a single act, spoke not a single word, cast not a single look, conceived not a single thought, cherished not a single feeling, that diverged in the slightest degree, even in the sight of the Infinite Himself, from perfect integrity. He was tempted ; but though " tempted in all things like as we are, yet without sin." The temptation possessed no influence over Him. " The prince of this world cometh, and he hath nothing in Me ; " no materials to corre- spond to his attacks so as to give him an advantage to overcome Me ; no corruption for the temptation by means of it to inflict an injury on Me. The temptation was simply without Him ; there was no confederate within, and therefore it could effect no moral damage. His nature was filled to the brim with holiness, so that the fiery darts ENTICEMENTS TO SIN. 77 of the devil were at once quenched in Him. But the quality of our spirits, the nature of our hearts, is unholy and depraved. The bias of our nature is towards sin, the original propensity of our minds is in the direction of evil. And here, precious soul, lies thy danger to play with temptation. There is something in thee that is advantageous to it. If the fire is in the temptation, the powd«?r is in thy nature ; and, for thy life's sake, beware that the two come not in contact, else there will happen a terrible explosion. The whole moral nature of man is impaired. The natural inclination of his mind is to evil. He must be born again, created anew in Christ Jesus, in order to bring his heart to love holiness, and, even after being ^ orn again, it is needful he should exercise constant care and vigil- ance and endeavour to keep himself pure. But to fall to sin is something natural and easy to him — ho is not called upon to encounter serious obstacles, deny his chiefest and strongest pleasures, pull out the right eye, or cut off the right hand in order thereto. Now the fact that such an onC; so liable to sin, plays with the temptation, makes it on that ground impossible but that he should fall into the sin. Just as if you were to think of some infectious disease ravaging a town or a neighbourhood. In such a case no one is perfectly safe. The healthiest and strongest might come in contact with it and fall victims to it. But it is well known that in some constitutions there is a predisposition to certain kinds of sickness, something in them that makes them more subject than others to those particular diseases ; and when those specific forms of bodily ailments visit a neighbourhood, II li i I ' li . ■ I U. i| ill I V :\i 11 i :! 78 THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH they stand in greater danger than their neighbours. I am not enough of a physician to assign the reason for this, to decide whether it rises from an original distemper in the constitution, or the general debility of the body, or some particular weakness in the specific organ or tissue that is directly attacked by the disease. The fact, however, is universally admitted. Now, the moral deterioration of mankind is such as to expose them to the various assaults of corruption that frequently beset them in the forms of temptation ; and no one can be safe, in a world so unwholesome as ours, without the greatest care and watchfulness. And if any one boldly frequents infectious places, dallying and fondling the disease, it is impossible for him, possessing the nature he does, to escape the contagion. One night, a few weeks ago, in the town where I live, as I was walking along Shaw Street, opposite the Collegiate, I observed a respectable man walking in front of me. As I came up to him, I noticed some smoke issuing from his clothes. I turned round and remarked that 1 feared, seeing the smoke coming out, he carried fire in his clothes. He had not observed the smoke, and, in his fright, threw open his coat ; and there- upon, and in a shorter time than it takes me to tell it, by the admission of the outside air to the fire smouldering witiiin, that side of his clothes immediately flamed up. Now, that is the nature of the sinner. He carries within him combustible materials, ready for fire. Indeed, the fire already burns within him, scorching up every holy feeling in his heart, and he need only open his bosom, and give opportunity to the breeze of tempta- ENTICEMENTS TO SIN. 79 tion to fan it, to kindle it to a flame, and put himself in danger of being altogether burned. May the Spirit of God Himself speak ! " Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned ? Can one go upon hot coals, and his feet not be burned ? " ^■'') t II. Man, in playing with the temptation, puts HIMSELF directly IN THE WAY THAT LEADS NATURALLY TO THE SIN. Although, as has already been observed, the natural state of a man's heart since the Fall is unholy, and that there is an original bent in him towards what is evil, yet sin, in the special forms it takes in his mind as well as in his public life, subjects him to itself through cer- tain allurements. He is enticed to sin in some way or other. Every sin has certain enticements peculiar to itself. And the great moral defect of thousands is, that they do not recognise the sin in the enticement thereto. Look at the temptations or enticements to sin, and at men playing with them. How did that young man become a thief ? Was it the first thing he did to steal his employer's money, or forge his handwriting to the cheque on the bank, or break into his neighbour's house and carry away his property ? Oh no. How then ? How ? He began by appropriating to himself his master's money without his knowledge, to spend for some pur- pose that was not the best, with the view of return- ing it again, without his master's knowledge, when his salary would become due. He was not sufficiently brave and candid to go to his master and borrow a small sum ; but he was sufficiently unprincipled to take it without ''1 } it ..iH |1 iK: V. I ,J. 1 1 hi m 80 THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH his permission, and perhaps sufficiently honest for a while to return it when his own money came to hand. He did so once, twice, and again, continuing to play with the temptation to steal. But one day it was incon- venient — inconvenient, yes, that is his word — to pay back ; he wanted all the money he had for something else ; therefore he postponed till some other season. But in the meantime, before that season came round, he needed to borrow again, and again he took of his master's money, thus adding to his defalcations. And thus continuing to play with the temptation, and find- ing himself hemmed in by difficulties he felt liimself unable to surmount, at last he says to himself — " I cannot pay back j there is no way of my doing it ; indeed, I am not quite sure that I ought ; I do not get anything like the wages I am entitled to : however, nobody except myself knows of it , I shall not think of returning them, unless, in future years, I become rich, when repayment will be easy ; but I am resolved that I shall not abstract money thus again." But, alas ! he did not stop there. He went on in the same direction — on — on — on. Where is he to-night ? Where too, but in penal servitude, having ruined his own character for ever, having broken his mother's heart and brought her to a premature grave, and having drawn on all his rela- tions grief and sorrow and disgrace and shame. By playing with the temptation he developed into a thief. So it is with every sin. See that man in whose word no one puts confidence, and after whom you would never like to repeat a tale unless confirmed by another's testimony. How did the man become so? At once? I i'':i I r,-: ENTICEMENTS TO SIN. 8i at I did I— on J in for her el a- By f. vord ould er's ce? Certainly not; he began by relating, perhaps, for the saNe of amusement some groundless tales of his own invention. In certain circles he found himself arresting considerable attention, and occasioning considerable merri- ment. He surren(iered himself to the temptation, and soilulously cherished the propensity, till by to-day he is proverbial for his untruthfulness; he believes his own falsehoods, and has almost lost the power to distinguish between the true and the false. Thousands in our country play weekly, if not daily, with intoxicating drinks, resorting regularly to public- houses, spending much precious time in the debasing society of immoral characters, and thus dally with the temptation to drunkenness. Now, concerning those that thus play with the tempta- tion to any sin, there cannot be any doubt that they place themselves in the way that leads directly to it. Consequently, the morality of Holy Writ not only posi- tively forbids the sin itself, but also all the occasions to it and the first motions of the heart towards it. " Lie not one to another." " Let your communication be yea, yea ; nay, nay ; for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil." " Truth must be spoken in the heart." Not only is it against stealing, but it forbids us to " covet that which is our neighbour's." Not only it prohibits murder, but declares that every one that is "angry with hia brother without a cause is guilty of murder;" and not only that, but adds, " make no friendship with an angry man; and with a furious man thou shalt not go; lest thou learn his ways, and get a snare to thy soul." Not only it condemns and forbids adultery, but also the ' r ! ;: • s «il: I ill w t * II £ I I m i \i' m 8a THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH mere looking after a woman in order to feed lust. It says, " Be not drunk with wine ; '* yea, it says more, " Be not among wiue-bibbers ; " " look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his colour in the cup, when it moveth itself aright." That is the character of Bible morality. And as that is the morality of the book, it ought to be the morality of the heart. The power of a moral principle is to show itself, not by going as near as possible to the sin without falling to it, but by keeping as far as possible from it; not by going as near the precipice as possible without falling over, but by walking in the middle of the road, far from every danger. " Avoid every appearance of evil." "Hate even the garment spotted by the flesh." The old Greek poet, as some of you remember, describ- ing the wanderings of Ulysses in the Mediterranean Sea, takes him past the island where the Syrens sang so charmingly that the sailors who passed that way could not resist the temptation to land, whereupon the cruel sisters killed them and feasted on their bodies. But he had been instructed by Circe, as a protection to himself and his friends, to put melted wax in the mariners' ears when they approached the island so that they might not hear the seductive music, and to cause them to bind him fast to the mast so that, though hearing the enchanting notes, and notwithstanding every desire to land under the influence of the sweet music, he might be totally unable to steer the ship in the direction of the shore. And so he and they were preserved in sa.fety (Odyssey, xii. 39-208). And do you desire not to fall into the sin ? Shut your ears that you hear not the voice of the temptation ; turn ■■'I ]\ ENTICEMENTS TO SIN. ^ away your eyes from looking at it ; bind yourselves to something strong enough to keep you from falling into its snare. When a man plays with tlie temptation, he is in the middle of the road which leads into the sin. Young people, do you see the meaning, of all this ? Do you understand where reading impure books, looking at unchaste pictures, using indecent language, associating with low and degraded characters, following old corrupt customs, lead to ? Do you perceive where frequenting public-houses, sitting over the intoxicating cup, delighting in the society, and having pleasure in the smell and taste of the drink, terminate? It behoves thee, who playest with the temptation, to be warned in time. Thou art near the edge — a lew more steps and thou wilt topple over. The fire is in thy bosom, thou canst not tell the moment thou wilt be ablaze. " Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned ? Can one walk on coals of fire, and his feet not be burned ? " III. Playing with the temptation to any evil SHOWS SOME DEGREE OF BIAS IN THE NATURE TO THAT PARTICULAR EVIL. We have already observed that the history of man- kind bears testimony to the influence exerted by the fellowship of the mind with the temptation over even a holy creature to lead him into sin. At the same time, it is a truth, and an iuiportant truth, that it is in the communion of the mind with the temptation that power resides ; and if there be in the mind a sufficient amount of virtue — of virtue the direct opposite of the sin to which the temptation prompts — to keep a man on his : M ? M :] 01 if 84 THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH guard from playing with it, he is perfectly safe from any injury that may be inflicted by it. Tn truth, when it is so, the temptation is to him no longer a temptation. To the young man, chaste and pure, there is no force in the seductions of the " strange woman." To the sober man, the thorough abstainer, there is no enticement in the smell and taste of the drink, in the noise and laughter of the tavern. He has too much of that which is opposed to the sin to admit it. That is the significa- tion, it is supposed, but in an unutterably higher sense, of those words — " Let no man sny when he is tempted, I am tempted of God : for God cannot be tempted with evil, neither tempteth He any man." " He cannot be tempted with evil." Why not ? There is too much goodness in Him. In the infinite goodness of His nature. He rises immeasurably above the possibility of being tempted to anything contrary to that goodness. Now the same thing holds true of man in proportion to the power of holiness in him and the resistance of his heart to sin. This reveals itself in not giving place to the temptation, in not permitting it to have a footing in the mind. When he hates the sin with a perfect hatred, the temptation to it is hateful to him ; and he avoids, not only the sin itself, but all occasions to it, and all things that might lead him thereto. Just as a man's love to his friend makes him embrace every opportunity to hold fellowship with him. See how the godly man's attachment to God makes him lay hold of every oppor- tunity of communing with Him. " As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after Thee, Ood. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: •^i'L i:^ •L. ENTICEMENTS TO SIN, 85 when shall I come and appear before God ? " " One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after ; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in His temple." " Lord, I have loved the habita- tion of Thy house, and the place where Thine honour dwelleth." His love to God makes him take every advantage, to enter into communion with Him and taste the enjoyment consequent thereupon. Similarly, in his hatred of sin, he dislikes and avoids everything that in any way tends to it. On the other hand, if a man allows his heart to dally with any lust, if he finds himself turning to it and delighting in it, looking at it again and again, giving it place often in his meditations, playing thus with the temptation, it is obvious that there is a special inclination in the man to the sin ; and though, perhaps, he would tremble at the actual commission of it, yet he may be sure that outside considerations alone make him refrain, and not the principle of his own heart. That our nature, since the Fall, is corrupt, we have already stated, and that, therefore, we are all, in a special manner, liable to play with temptations to particular sins. But, connected with this, there is another important truth. We have all " the sin ready to beset us ; " there is in each one of us separately some predisposition to some particular sin, just as in some bodily constitutions there is a predisposition to certain fevers. This predisposition is often hereditary, running in the family blood, making the family in all its branches liable to those fevers. We often witness the same thing morally. Certain forms of ■ * I I ;r. 1 * fl II ! II I '^ilU iN S6 THE DANGEk OP PLAYING WITH sin seem to inhere in the blood of some families. Some- times falsehood, sometimes fraud, sometimes drunken- ness, sometimes unchastity, run as it were through some families, and that for generations, making those families a byword and a reproach in their respective neighbour- hoods. But, independently of what may be deemed hereditary, there may be something in a man's natural organism making him incline beforehand to a special sin, and thus placing him under an obligation to exercise special vigilance against that sin. One has the physical lusts strong in him, and is therefore more liable to sins of the flesh ; another the mental appetencies, and therefore more liable to the sins of the spirit. One is naturally of a disposition lively, agile, hot, ardent, and therefore liable to levity on the one hand, or to recklessness on the other ; another is naturally heavy, phlegmatic, luxu- rious, torpid, and consequently liable to grow careless, indolent, lazy, dull, if not sullen and ill-tempered. One is naturally ambitious and self-asserting, and therefore inclined to pride and vainglory ; another naturally more sensual and earthly, and therefore inclined to gluttony and drunkenness. Natural predispositions I have called these ; but there are others, the result of habit only, equally powerful in their influence, and equally dangerous if any advantage be given them to show themselves. And sometimes — no, not sometimes, but often, forsooth 1 the natural predispositions are mightily strengthened by habit. Now, when a man plays with any temptation, it is a proof positive of some bias already in the mind to the sin which is the direct object of the temptation. The ENTICEMENTS TO SIN. 87 I by t IS the The playing with tho temptation is nothing else than the heart reaching out after the sin, the lust conceiving in the mind. Look at Balaam. Messengers from Balak come to him, with the reward of unrighteousness in .their hand, to fetch )»im to curse Israel. He seems to have at once doubted the propriety of doing so, whilst at the same time he evinced no reluctance to go. However, he persuades them to remain with him that night that he might learn the will of the Lord. He is positively told not to go with them ; and so, but only half-relating what the Lord told him, he sends them away, saying the Lord refused to let him accompany them, evidently leaving the impression on their minds that he personally was quite prepared, if only permission were granted him. But Balak sends other messengers — more numerous and honourable than the first, and doubtless with a larger reward in their hands, and promising him much honour, if he only consented to go. Then he pretends to be wonderfully devout : " If Balak would give me his house full of silver and gold, I cannot go beyond the word of the Lord my God, to do less or more. Now, therefore, I pray you, tarry ye also here this night, that I may know what the Lord will say unto me more" (Lev. xxii. 18,1 9). Perhaps He has changed His mind ; per- adventure He may let me come. I should like person- ally to come; and I will, if I am not stopped. By lodging the messengers he clearly showed that the wish of his mind was to go with them. Thus when a man lodges the temptation in his mind, dandles the lust in his heart, obviously he leans to the sin itself. You can- not help the assault ; it is not your fault that you are 1^ M tl: W1 ■ I .!"! '•' Jl) i m nil 1; 3': ' ^. i ri I M !i i 88 THE DANUEk Of PLAYING WITH tempted; Je.ms Christ Iliinsi'lf was tempted. The evil is to lodge the toniptation in tlie tnind; to listen to the voice of the tempter ; to delay saying' to him, " Get thee behind me, Satan ; " to give the " lust " time and oppor- tunity to " conceive " and " to bring forth lust " (James i. 15). Here, then, lies the special danger of playing with the temptation, and the impossibility of a man doing so witliout falling a prey to the sin. Art thou careless of the truth ? The bias of thy heart is to false- hood ; watch lest thou fall into the sin. Dost thou play with money not thine own ? Beware ! thou art not far from being a thief. Dost thou repair to the public- house, and delight in its society ? Thou walkest straight in the way that leads to drunkenness; and if for no other reason than the pleasure thou findest in the tempta- tion, thou shouldst keep aloof from it for ever. "Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned ? Can one walk op hot coals, and his feet not be burned ? " IV. Playing with temptation only brings man into CONTACT with SIN ON ITS AGREEABLE SIDE, AND THUS GIVES IT AN ADVANTAGE TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION FAVOUR- ABLE TO ITSELF ON THE MIND. It must be confessed that sin has its pleasure. True that it is but low and empty and unsubstantial, and its continuance but short and uncertain. Nevertheless it exists ; and not only that, but it is present, and within reach. It means the immediate satisfaction of the de- praved propensities of the nature ; and, in some of its forms, directs itself especially to the physical ap- h5 tlNTICtUUNTS TO SIN. •» pctencies and lusts, nnd in all its forms flatters the 8elf-S(((king, the self-indulgence, and the ijelf-will of the creature. It thus chainia thousands on thousands to follow it ; so much so that there is no force in any consideration presented to their minds to induce them to make an cfTort to disentangle themselves and depart from it. The man sacrifices on the altar of his lust the health of his body, the comfort of his family, his worldly circumstances, his social respectability, his natural life, and the everlasting happiness of his im- mortal soul. But only the pleasure of sin is in the temptation. There is to be seen only the graceful form, the lovely face, the cheerful look, and the beautiful ro\)es ; there is to be heard only the musical voice, the kind words, the melodious song, and the merry laugh ; there is to be touched only the soft hand and the honied kiss ; nothing to be beheld but the attractive appearance in order to fascinate. The heart full of deceit, the spirit steeped in treachery, and the bottle full of poison, are completely hid, so that the poor wretch imagines not that there is any peril to be feared, or any hurt to be received. Nothing is in sight save the pleasure. " And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat." There were other things to be seen had she only looked — God's pro- hibition, God's threat, God's authority, — guilt, shame, death. But the temptation exhibited none of these ; only some imaginary and unsubstantial beauty and gain in order to deceive. But by giving way to the tempta- I 1 ' « j 1 , 1 4 ' 1 L 1 ' ^ ' I 1 '■ 1 ■t i I s I- • P 1 ■ M . ■ I 90 THE DANGER 01^ PLAYING WITH tion, for the sake of imaginary pleasures, she found misery true and real. " I saw," said Achan, " among the spoils a goodly Babylonish garment, and two hundred shekels of silver, and a wed^^e of gold of fifty shekels weight, then I coveted them, and took them ; and, be- hold, they are hid in the earth in the midst of my tent, and the silver under it." Other things were to be seen : God's prohibioion, Israel troubled, the camp turned to an accursed thing, the Lord turning His back on His people and their consequent flight before their enemies, the stoning of himself and family with stones. But the temptation showed none of these things, nothing but the goodly garment, the gold, and the silver ; and looking at these things Achan coveted them, and after coveting them he took them, and after taking them he hid them but notwithstanding the concealment, he is caught, is stoned to death and burned into ashes in fire. When children, yoii used to go a-fishing. Were you wont to show the hook to the fish ? Oh no ! You had the hook, but you put it out of sight — you hid it in the bait ; and the fish, eating the bait, swallowed the hook ; and the tiny creature which a minute before played glee- fully in his element is caught and put in the basket. So the temptation acts — it shows the bait, but hides the hook, and so catches and kills. See that young man who has enlisted to be a soldier. There he goes with the recruiting officer to the magistrate to be sworn in. How has he been enticed to this ? How ? Was it by reflecting on the small wages, the hard fare, the severe drill, the minute discipline, the complete obedience he must yield, the bloody war, the terrible fighting, the ENTICEMENTS TO StN. 91 sharp sword piercing his body and wounding him mor- tally, the fiery shell splitting his liead and slaying him on the spot, his corpse lying on the field far -from his native land, and buried there, where none of his relatives will ever know the place of his tomb, and, thinking on those things, he enlisted a soldier ? Thinking on those things ! Why, if he had only thought on one of them, he would hardly ever have done such a thing. How, then, did it happen ? Oh, he was enticed by the red regimentals, the neat appearance, the life he imagined to be idle, the faint hope of a pension in his old days, and especially the liberty he promised to himself — liberty from a father's warnings, a mother's tears, and sisters' solicitude — liberty to run to every excess of riot and ungodliness. Something fascinating, in the opinion of the young man, in the soldier's life led him astray. In the same manner precisely the temptation to sin influences the mind. How was that man tempted to become a thief? He thought of the sorrow he would bring his parents, the disgrace he would entail on his brothers and sisters, the damage he would inflict on his own character, the shame he would experience in being detected, put in prison, and led thence on the day of trial to a court of law, the pain he would feel in seeing and hearing his former friends obliged to testify against him, his anxiety about the verdict, the pang on hearing the word "guilty" the sentence of hard labour for two years, the reproach attaching to him now as long as he lives, and the ruinous influence all this would exert over him to drive him farther in the same career, till he would finish his wretched course in penal servitude, the con- I I 21 i -I 1 1 i ■ 1 J i 1 , :!■ 1 - 1 m| ■ 1 i J:;:' M m 93 THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH science being now awakened and begi*'ning to gnaw terribly, and securing to himself wretchedness more horrible in the world to come ; and thinking on these things, he became a thief ? Alas ! no ! The poor wretch never thought of these things, else he would have been preserved from such ways. He thought of nothing but of the opportune advantage to obtain without trouble, and in a short time, what by means of ordinary labour he could not attain for many long years, nor, perliaps, ever, and thus enjoy easily some present pleasure, which, according to the temptation, he could not reap any other way. The result was, he became a thief. How did that young man fall a prey to uncleanness ? He thought of the "wound «nnd the reproach," and the shame that will not be obliterated ? He thought of the " dart striking through his liver," and that '* her house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death ? " Oh no I but he took to be persuaded by " her much fair speech, and to be forced with lae flattering of her lips," and " so he went after her straightway as an ox goeth to the slaughter, as a bird hasteth to the snare, and knoweth not that it is for his life" (Prov. vii. 21-23). He looked only at what was attractive in the sin, and so fell a prey to it. How did the other become a drunkard ? He thought of the woe, the sorrow, the contentions, the babbling, the wounds without cause, the redness oC eyes, and the bite like the serpent's and the sting like the adder's ? Oh no ; none of these things were in his thoughts. All he saw was the rioting and wantonness, the boisterous com- panions, the delighful sensations, the oblivion of all grief ; >) ENTICEMENTS TO SIN. 93 the pleasure of sin alone was present to his mind, casting aside every other consideration whatsoever. And so it is with the temptation to every sin. And inasmuch as the enjoyment of sin only is shown in the temptation, you see the impossibility for any one to dally with it without falling a prey to it. " Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned ? Can one walk on hot coals, and his feet not be burned ? " V. Man, through playing with temptation, weakens HIS MORAL RESISTANCE TO THE SIN, AND GRADUALLY GETS SO WEAK THAT HE CANNOT RESIST IT. This is perfectly obvious. As already shown, playing with the temptation is nothing else than the heart stretching forth its tendrils after the sin, and is therefore in itself sinful, injuring the moral sense, and from the first tending to weaken and destroy it. And by dallying with the temptation the lusting after the sin increases, the bias of the mind towards it gathers strength, the consideration of the evil in it is lost, its enjoyment appears more desirable, the heart's love of it invents plausible excuses for it, till at last the temptation takes advantage of, and unites itself to, the lust of the heart, and the poor fellow falls a prey to it. At the outset, the temptation — whether from the evil one or evil men, or from the special circumstances in which the man finds himself — only suggests to him the sin, by presenting it before his mind ; so far the man is not responsible for it, it is not a sin to him. But when a man is pleased with the suggestion, entertains it in his mind, and delights in the corrupt image pictured by his imagination, he begins i 1^ m i ■■ ■ : I 'Ill ;V'? 1 , ' 1 1 i t\ 94 THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH to play with temptation, and his moral force begins to be undermined. One depraved thought, by cherishing it, invites another, and it another, and so on in succession, till the whole soul is polluted to such a degree that it only sees materials for uncleanness in all things. The unclean spirit, finding the mind empty and unoccupied, invites seven others, worse than himself, to a joint occupation with himself, and thus possess him entirely for purposes of uncleanness. Once a man takes to play with temptation and finds some kind of pleasure therein, he wants it again and again, till by degrees it becomes something indispensable to him, something he feels per- fectly uncomfortable without. But such is the nature of the pleasure that, by growing familiar with it, it is necessary to have more of it and to devote oneself more thoroughly to it, in order to acquire the same agreeable sensation through it : and thus the lust grows in intensity and gains tremendous power over the mind. But such a growth cannot take place save at the expense of the moral stamina of the soul. Playing with tempta- tion eats away the moral energy. The conscience at last gets so depraved that it permits unforbidden what it once condemned unambiguously and emphatically ; and the lust takes advantage of every concession made it to obtain other concessions of the same nature, till before long the whole moral region of the soul is devastated by it. And so, step by step, almost unwittingly to himself, the man finds himself utterly powerless to resist the temptation, and falls a prey to the sin. The natural laws of the man's mind become a strength to his corruption, and favour and accelerate his ruin. By playing with the 1 ] ENTICEMENTS TO SIN. 95 temptation, the poor unfortunate is drawn on' on, on, till at last he is captive to it. So it is with every sin. Look at that young man developing into a thief. He began by giving room in his mind to the temptation to use upon himself that which was not his own ; to appropriate, under the guise of borrowing, the money of his employer. He went on thus for some time, recouping them every penny. But his conscience gradually loses its tenderness, and in the face of a certain emergency he became sufficiently hard to keep them. He committed literally the act of stealing. By doing so once, he became weaker to resist the temptation to repeat it, und that over and ovev , .^ain, till his career came to its termination in a plact where thieves receive their severest punishment. Think of the other falling a victim to a-^-Hery. The temptation attacks the mind, and perchance finds a place in it. But the unclean thoughts settle down into un- chaste meditations ; the unchaste meditations develop into sensual desires ; the sensual desires break forth into lascivious conversation ; and the lascivious conversation terminates in shameless adultery. As the lust gains strength, it grows bolder in its claims ; it is not satisfied to-day with the homage paid it yesterday ; and as its attacking power gains, the moral power of the soul to resist diminishes, till at last it is totally powerless to do so. Contemplate that drunkard. How did he come to such a state ? He was not born a drunkard. He was not wont to intoxicate himself with his mother's milk. He was a grown-up lad possibly before he ever tasted the intoxicatir<5 cup. But somehow, through joining m M liii §■' m 96 THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH r I! perhaps with the provident club, which held its meetings in the public-house, he began to drink. Soon he got to resort thither occasionally, besides on the club night; he becomes interested in the jolly company and the idle jests ; he begins to like the drink, he begins to feel elated under its seductive influence ; that sense of elation grows till at last he feels uncomfortable without it. But the nature of his constitution, and the nature of the drink, are such that he cannot reproduce the comfortable sensation without swelling the dose. The quantity which produced that sensation a month or two ago can- not create it now. He must have more or something stronger to produce the same felicitous effects, as he calls them ; and at last so much must be consumed that, under its influence, he got drunk. Thus he sank, from step to step, and without in the least intending it, and without thinking anything of the peril, by playing with the temptation, a victim to the sin. And so he went on from drunkenness to drunkenness. He is now a perfect slave to it. His appetite for that which reduces him to such degradation is terrible and ii^satiable. "When I shall awake, I will seek it yet again." If you wish to see the helplessness into which man reduces himself through playing with temptation, look at those who eat opium or drink laudanum. Under the influence of a few drops or a few grains at first, the man experiences a degree of exemption from the bodily pain which harassed him ; the pain, however, returns again, and again he resorts to the remedy, and so on time after time. But there is a marvellous charm in it to the poor creature under its influence ; his niind is so active, his :!l! ENTICEMENTS TO SIN. 97 imngination so fertile, that he experiences a plea.^ure perfectly new and strange to him whilst the impulse of the dose continues. He is drawn to it over and over again. But to obtain the same agreeable sensation the quantity of the dose must be increased time after time, till at last a sufficient amount is taken to throw the con- stitution into a state of complete torpidity, and to reduce it to a state of utter helplessness. Look at some of the greatest giants of genius and learning, Coleridge and De Quincey, under its influence, made captive by it, so that they have no control over themselves ; their great faculties, for hours every day, so locked up that they could make no use of them. De Quincey begins by taking a few drops to soothe for a while the toothache. He gets the relief, but at the same time he tastes a kind of pleasure that soon subjugates him to itself. The temptation grows stronger, and he weaker to resist it, so that the dose that began with twenty drops increases to eight thousand drops of laudanum in a day (De Quincey's Works, vol. i. p. 193, 194, 234. Edinburgh, 1862). And, according to the testimony of one who had the best opportunity for a whole year of observing his habits in her father's house, look at him, after taking an ounce of laudanum in the morning, and ruining his strength for the day, lying for hours on the rug in front of the fire in his room, his head resting on his book, and his arms folded, completely lost in the unnatural sleep, under the influence of the ruinous dose (Mrs. Gordon's " Memoir of Professor Wilson," voL ii p. 15 8. Edinburgh, 1862). Having commenced by playing with the temp- tation, he became too weak to resist it, and was taken Q k ill lift- 'I 1 ')^' I I !i 98 THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH captive by it. And that is the great law under which the human mind works in respect of every sin. And that is not all, but playing with the temptation keeps a man from the only means through which he might acquire strength to overcome the sin. The Bible becomes a strange book, religious services and holy con- versations grow insipid, secret prayer is totally neglected, and every service in connection with the worship of God is to him a burden and vexation. And when, in virtue of an old habit, or to keep up appearances, he comes to the forms of the service, his playing with temptation has quite slain his spirit. If he comes to the Lord's house, his mind wanders in company with his lust : if he goes, under some stress, to try to pray, his conscience con- demns him, so that he has no strength to grasp the blessing ; if he approaches the Lord's table on the Sunday, to him there is no " communion of the body " and " communion of the blood " of Christ, having been corrupting himself on the Saturday at the devil's table. And thus his moral debility increases, and tlie pro- bability grows stronger that he will fall a prey to the sin with which he plays. " Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned ? Can one walk on hot coals, and his feet not be burned ? " VI. Man, by playing with temptation, at last TEMPTS THE SPIRIT OF GOD TO WITHDRAW HiS PROTEC- TION FROM HIM, AND TO LEAVE HIM TO HIMSELF, AND A PREY TO HIS LUST. The Holy Scriptures teach, it is clear, that the Spirit of the Lord exerts His influence in different wavs to ENTICEMENTS TO SIN. 9» )ro- the his UST TEC- t)irit to keep one from sin. Sometimes He overrules external circumstances in such a manner as to deny him the opportunities to commit the sin he is inclined to ; so that, though the lust possibly works in him mightily, the opportunity to satisfy it is not within his reach. Thus Judas Iscariot was about betraying Jesus Christ (John xii. 4), but wanted " opportunity to betray Him " (Matt. xxvi. 16). At other times, when the opportunity is advantageous and the outside temptation strong, the Spirit of the Lord so influences the mind by means of certain reflections, that the temptation fails in its effect upon him ; his mind being not only disinclined, but totally opposed to the sin. " How can I do," asked Joseph, " this great wickedness, and sin against God ? " And, sometimes, having reached the very brink of the sin, the great God wonderfully intervenes to prevent it, as with Abimelech, to keep him from Sarah (Gen. XX. 2-9), and with David to keep him from shedding innocent blood (i Sam. xxv. 13-35). Of God's mercy similar deliverances are often vouchsafed now. " With the temptation there is a way of escape " ( i Cor. x. 1 3). The young man, in the face of the temptation that suddenly attacks him, the fierce gust from the bottomless pit which threatens to blow him down, has grace to remember there and then the godly advices he received in his infancy, the prayers of his father and mother, their present anxiety in relation to him, the great sorrow it would occasion them to hear that he liad strayed from the paths of virtue, the importance and value of a good ciiaracter to him in his relation to this world and the present life, and the terrible consequences, reaching to U lOO THE DANGER OF PLAYING WITH i I: the other world, following a career of irreligion and ungodliness ; and under the influence of such considera- tions as these, he quite overcomes the temptation, nnd " his soul is escaped as a bird out of the snare of the fowler." But when a man continues to play with temp- tation, permitting his heart always to run in the channel of his lust, beginning to give way to his first impulses and desires, he vexes and grieves God's Spirit, and gradually offends Him so much that He withdraws from him, withholds His protection, and allows the temptation in all its force to assault him at a time when lubt is strong and the external opportunity per- fectly advantageous. And the result is, he falls a prey to the temptation. Look again at Judas. For a long while now he plays with the temptation. He is already a thief, and takes advantage even of his apostolic office, and in the society of Jesus, to feed the lust that lords over him. At last, in the strength of the same lust, which by this time has gathered terrific force in his mind, he determines to betray his Master to His enemies. How long the temptation to do it besieged his mind before yielding we cannot tell. But the acquiescence is at length won. Nothing now is needed but the " oppor- tunity." And Providence gives that ; the wonderful permission is granted, " What thou doest, do quickly " (John xiii. 27). Oh, it is frightful when the temptation and the opportunity meet ! The destruction of the man is near, sin makes a prey of him. See Samson jesting with Delilah, and with the enticement to reveal to her the secret of his mighty strength. To that strength the strongest " cords became as flax that was burnt with fire." BNTlCEMEhfTS TO SW. tot IS )r- lu\ Ion Ian lug ler Ihe J* > But at last, as he was sleeping on her knees, lo, his hair is cut ; his Nazaritic vow is gone, his strength has departed. " Tlie Philistines be upon thee, Samson ! " And he awoke out of his sleep, and said, " I will go out as at other times before, and shake myself. And he wist not that the Lord was departed from him." And, poor man, there he is, caught, bound, imprisoned, grind- ing in the prison-house (Judges xvi. 5—21). Beloved souls ! believe that it is impossible to play with the temptation without falling a i>rey to the sin. " Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned ? Can one walk on hot coals, and his feet not be burned ? " Is there any one here who has "taken fire in his bosom," and has had his clothes burnt ; having been sub- jected to sin, and gone a prey to it ? Blessed be God, his case is not yet hopeless. We have in the Gospel one that " receives sinners;" and "we have redemption in His blood, even the forgiveness of sin, according to the riches of His grace ; " and there is virtue enough, to- night, in His blood to cleanse thee also from all sin. If the fire kindles, it is not the fire of hell yet ; and whilst on earth, however great thy guilt, however great thy uncleanness, however great thy misery, thou art within reach of a scheme with power enough in it to lift thy iniquity from thee, to overcome it within thee, and to renew thee through grace to the spotless purity of the Godhead Himself. But beware, for the sake of thy im- mortal soul, of procrastinating in order to play a little longer with sin, lest the Spirit of God depart from thee, and leave thee for ever a prey to thy lust. I J I! ( loi ) THE TWO CHARACTERS. BY THE Rl'lV. EDWARD MATTHEWS, BRIDGEND. " I have seen the M'ickcd in great power, and spreading liiniself like a green buy-tree. Yet ho passed awny, and lo, he was not ; yea, I sought him, but he could not be found. Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright ; for the end of that man is peace." — Ps. xxxvii. 35-37- The word " perfect " in tlie Old Testament is gene- rally used in the same sense as the word " godly " in the New. This " perfect " man is he " who fearuth God and escheweth evil." His perfection is that of an earthly saint, not that of a heavenly saint. It is the same as the perfection of Job, the perfection of principle, the perfection of purpose ona aim. But tliis perfection of purpose and aim is not satisfied without its actual reali- sation in conduct. Like Paul, it stretches forward and upward, " even to the resurection of the dead." " Not that it has already attained," or is already exemplified in life and conduct ; but " it follows after " — after — after, on and on. • Very strong language is used to set forth the integrity of Lot, though we are not ignorant of drawbacks in him also. "And He delivered just Lot, vexed with the filthy conversation of the wicked; for that righteous ixj THE TWO CHARACTERS. 103 man dwelling aTnonf» them, in aeeing and hearing, vexo f>\ A ! m. I ii S: !:i 126 STRENGTH OF SOUL MADE 2. Hope and strength rapidly grow when faith clearly sees and steadfastly rests on the firm ground of forgive- ness in the death of Christ. The deluding fancy that forgiveness is a blessing gratuitously bestowed on us by God in the mere exercise of His loving will, may slightly allay our fears for a season, but cannot call into existence that strong hope which shall strike its roots into the depths of our moral nature, that is, our conscience. The thoroughly quickened conscience will ask, and all the more loudly when the pleasant word " forgiveness " is ringing in its ears- -Is not He who forgives sin a righteous God ? Is not His righteousness His all - regulating attribute ? Ave not righteousness and judgment the ha"'"itation (or pillars) of His throne ? Must not I go to meet Him as a righteous God, or will He leave His throne and cast away His sceptre in order that He may come to meet me ? " No, no," it may be answered, " we must approach Him as the righteous One, repentant for our sins." Of course we must ; but what is repentance at the best but a feeble and imperfect acknowledgment of God's righteousness, that He may be justified when He speaks, and be clear when He judges ? Tiie words "righteous" aiid "just," when used about God, must surely mean, unless tliey are violently wrested, that He acts judicially in dealing v-ith sinners. Wb<^u He for- gives, He justifi(;s. Is a sinner' j sorrow a sufficient ground of legal acquittal ? Nay ; it is a deceptive quicksand, which if trusted in will swallow up the soul with all its hopes. But the thrcne is accessible for the guiltiest, with liis sins and the justice jf God kept distinctly in view, through ; 1^ ;. : ; 'i PERFECT BY HOPE IN GOD. 127 Him "whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation through faith in His blood, to declare His righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, that He might be just and the justifier of him which belie veth in Jesus." The hope thus inspired expels all fear and gives him the strength of " boldness to enter into the holiest by the blood of Jesus ; to draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, having his heart sprinkled from an evil conscience." TliC throne, thus approached, becomes the throne of grace, with the tables of the magnified and honoured law beneath it, where mercy r'-'y be ob- tained in accordance with perfect righteousness. What a mounting up is this ! which places the believing sinner verily by the side of the great living Propitiation, who is on the right hand of the Majesty on high, who also " is able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him, seeing He ever liveth to make intercession for them." The higher we rise the more do we see all things from God's point of view, and we now ask, Wliere is that which appeared to us, when we were far below, such a mighty, burdensome mass — where is the guilt of sin ? "We may ask long and ask in vain, for we get from here a clear view of the cross, at which the Pilgrim lost his burden ; and no wonder, for on it our great High Pri-. st bore " the sins of many," and put them away " by the sacrifice of Himself." Here faith boldly asks, " Who is he that condemneth ? " and as boldly answers, " It is Christ that died." Here too hope looks on, beyond the present life, beyond the grave, beyond the judgment-^ay, and as far as she can pry into eternity, and speaks the challenge that befits her in '\n mi ij'^ i\ i 2il u iiJ'i '•i . 128 STRENGTH OF SOUL MADE " Who shall separate from the love of Christ ? " And here, surely, all invigorated Christian hearts are prepared to exclaim, — In all things that henceforth may afflict or oppose, we are more than conquerors through Him that loved us. 3. The justified believer derives strength to advance to closest fellowship with God from the hope that ho may meet Him in likeness of character. He learns in due time that the earlier stages, im- portant as they are in themselves, are of highest value as preparatory for that which we have now to consider. He has had strength to move in penitence towards the God of truth, freed from fear by the promise of pardon. He has been enabled to approach tlie righteous God with confidence, as a justified man, through faith in the atoning blood of Christ. The further he advances the more are all the moral perfections of God unfolded before him. He is awed, but he is also attracted. He already stands on high vantage-ground, for he is recon- ciled to God ; but he feels that God's grace has brought him to it, in order to further progress. He sees that some measure of likeness to his God in character is necessary as a fitness for unreserved, happy, and con- tinued communion. His desires are enlarged, and he prays for a clean heart because his God is holy, for a loving heart because God is love. Upward, still upward, he wishes to pass. But what hopes will strengthen him for the higher flight ? First, and chiefly, the hopes that are based on his faith in the fact that as a justified man there is a living Vinion between him and Christ. To use the language ot PERFECT BY HOPE IN GOD. 129 Scripture, he is "in Christ" and Clirist lives in him. The trusting one and the trusted One possess each other as dwelliuj,' in each other. But let us not attempt the bold task of showing all that is meant by the pregnant phrase, " in Christ." It is enough for us to know a little about the blessed consequences which flow from the great fact it embodies. " God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in His Son." Jesus is the inexhaustible source of life for men, for the life is eternal. But how may we hope that it will become ours ? " Of Him," that is, of God, " are ye," that is, have your spiritual existence, " in Christ Jesus." The believer passes from death unto life by entrance into its Divine Source. When he approached his God as a sorrowing penitent, Christ was his wisdom, instructing him about himself and his God. He was then in Him that is true, who gave him an understand- fug. When he drew near with boldness, possessed of the righteousness which is by faith, he was " made the righteousness of God in " Christ. And now, when he desires to become Godlike in character, his hopes are fixed on Christ as his " sanctification," in whom he is a new creature. Shall these hopes be disappointed ? This is much the same as to ask, Shall " the Lord Jesus Christ, which is our hope," disappoint him ? These hopes are confirmed and strengthened when he lays firm hold of the fact that the life from Christ is un- ceasingly communicated by the Holy Spirit, who is the Spirit of Christ. Between the believer and the Lord Jesus the Spirit is the living and enduring link, insomuch that as Christ dwells in the believer's heart by faith, so t 'I i I30 STRENGTH OF SOUL MADE also does the Spirit make him his living temple. Born of God and in God's image, through the Spirit, he be- comes thereafter the Spirit's nursling, over whom he broods with a love equal to that of Calvary, and puts forth, in perfecting the believer's character, the power and skill which formed and endowed the human nature of the Saviour Himself. He gradually but sundy ad- vances the Christian in holiness, by enabling him with open face to behold as in a glass the glory of the Lord, thereby changing him into the same image from glory to glory. Thus is he fitted for more and more rapid pro- gress God ward. He sees more and more clearly that he was redeemed in order that he might receive the adoption of a son. The Spirit of the Divine Son is sent forth into his heart awakening a kindred sense of sonship. His wings beat with a holder and stronger stroke than ever, and he presents himself before the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ with a high and pure joy that fills his soul, " crying, Abba, Father." Higher than this it is not given to man to pass in the present state, and there ii but one short flight between it and heaven. But some anxious Christian may be moved to ask, " Wilt thou, Saviour, at any time let go the soul that trusts in thee ? " And Ciirist will reply, " I give thee eternal life, and thou shalt never perish." And again he may ask, " Wilt Thou, Father, ever abandon Thine own child ? " and the Father will reply, " As my adopted son I have made thee My heir and a joint-heir with My only-begotten Son. To dis- inherit thee I must also disinherit Him." One more question, " Wilt thou, Almighty Spirit, leave incomplete PERFF.CT BY HOPE IN GOD. 131 Tliine own creation in me ? " And the Spirit will reply, "The good work I have be.;un in thee I will perform until the day of Jesus Christ, when I will present the Lamb's wife to her HusUand in the beauty of perfect holiness." Thus does the God of hope, in His Word, seek to remove every vestige of uncertainty as to the believer's future, and " to fill him with all joy and peace in believ- ing, that he may abound in hope, through the power of the Holy Ghost." Who can measure the unfailing strength which inspires the Christian when he feels that he is safe, safe, safe in the threefold grasp of the Triune God? ilfi sr. ill re te II. The hopes that are based on faith give strength to live for God. If we take the running of the text to mean the render- ing of active public service to God, and the walking to mean steadfast advance in character, the Christian requires the strength needed for both in the approach to God. He comes down from the mount made ready, like Moses, for work in the camp at large, or in the retirement of his tent. In so far as the spiritual life is one, it is a life in God : it is the life of the repentant, believing, and loving son in his Father's bosom. " It is hid," that is, has its high source, " witli Christ, in God." The energy of this life manifests itself in various ways. It puts forth its utmost strength in rising towards its source, when the Christian enters into fellowship with the Father and the Son. When it flows down, so to speak, into the Chris- tian's heart, enabling him to grow in grace, or to enter on a course of social action for Christ, it comes with a ■Ml ' ', II, ii 11' 1 1 • d 132 STRENGTH OF SOUL MADE divine impetus which, in some cases, makes it resemble the rush of a mountain torrent, as in Paul, Luther, White- field and Wesley, and, in the case of the lowliest believer, like a noiseless, steady stream which nothing can stop or even retard very long. 1. The Christian makes a hopeful start in his course of service when he clearly realises the spiritual security of his own position. All fear dismissed with regard to himself, heart, head, and hands are free and strong for further work in himself or towards others. To see distinctly " the grace wherein he stands " is in effect to " rejoice in hope of the glory of God." Bein^ " reconciled to God by the death of His Son," he is all tlie more sure of final salvation " by His life." Having his con- science purged from dead woiks by the blood of Christ, he enters with a lightened heart on the service of the living God. Assured by the promise and oath of the God who cannot lie that the refuge to wliich he has fled is impregnable, he is fully prepared to give himself without distraction to the tasks assigned to him, knowing that his hope will grow while he works, and his strength too, even to the end. 2. All the motives which the gospel presents before him feed his hopefulness and increase his working power. " I can do all things," said Paul, *' through Christ which strengtheneth me." How torpid that soul must be which can resist the appeals made by the Lord Jesus to the whole of our moral nature ! But Paul responded heartily to every one of them ; therefore he was conscious of the possession of power enough to carry on the con- flict with sin in himself, to build up the faith of the J pERFECf BY HOPlB /^ GOt>. 133 churches, to attempt the conversion of the world to Christ, and, in doing so, to assault the very gates of hell. We have the Saviour's appeal to the conscience in the words — " Ye are not your own, for ye are bought with a price." When the magnitude of the price is considered, what soul with a spark of spiritual honesty will not hasten to admit the just claim, and to make all the acknowledgment possible by giving up, without reserve, body and spirit to the service of their rightful owner ? But hope steps in, to help the action of conscience, with the assurance that none can pluck out of the Eedeemer's hand the purchase of His precious blood. Our deepest affections are stirred when we are told that the purchase was made in love. A price of bound- less value was freely paid by boundless love. Christ loved us and gave Himself for us. We love Him because He first loved us, and then cheerfully say — " The love of Christ coustraineth us, not to live henceforth unto our- selves, but unto Him which died for us." But the impulse to action which love infuses is made stronger and steadier by the pleasant outlook thus afforded : " hope maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost." The Christian loves on and hopes on and works on, because he knows that his love to Christ is the Spirit's seal on his heart that he is God's own child for ever, and is also the earnest the Father has given him of his future inheritance. Once more, the Christian is prompted to strenuous and persevering action by the appeal made to his desires. %.A' i.,,!, fl^ "f .-. i 1^ tu STRENGTH OF SOUL MADE The highest point in his destiny is to be conformed to the image of the Son of God. What Paul aimed at above all things was to form Christ in the heaits of believers. Accordingly, the great all-embracing desire of the Chris- tian is to attain to likeness to Christ. May he entertain the hope that this desire shall be satisfied ? Let the Apostle Johi; answer : ** Now are we the sons of God," and " when P.e shall appear we shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. And every man that hath this hope in Him purifieth himself, even as He is pure." (i.) Thus moved, the believer strives, above all things and in all things, after perfect likeness to his Saviour in personal character. He resolutely engages in the arduous and often painful task of working out his " own salvation with fear and trembling," knowing that "it is God which worketh in him to will and to do of His good pleasure." Strengthened with might by the Spirit in the inner man, he puts off the corrupt old man and puts on the holy new man. In the daily struggle with the old man, he learns to hate it as the exact opposite of Christ, and this hatred gives rise to a passion of holy revenge, so that as sin crucified Jesus, the Christian crucifies the old man. The death it thus dies is slow but sure, and the crucified looks hopefully on to the time when the hated thing he has crucified will bow its head and give up the ghost. Thus he acts for God towards Himself. (2.) Keeping this high mark ever in view, he becomes strong enough to regulate by it all his social action. His eye being single, his whole body is full of light. In the most private sphere he will put on Christ by the ; PERFECT BY HOPE IN GOD. 135' practice of meekness, humility, purity, and charity. If called upon to act a public part, he will seek to bring every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ, that thus, while serving the Master, his own character may continually grow. He will escape the dangers incident to his position by unceasing watchfulness against sin and a harder struggling with it. He will free him- self more and more from the ensnarinrj weaknesses of pride, vanity, personal ambition, and personal jealousies. He will become more and more deaf to the flatteries and applause of the weak ones around him, the deafness being due to the value he sets on a deep sense within him of the approval of his Lord. He will not be regard- less of the opinions of men ; but at the same time will be careful to commend himself to their consciences by the elevation and purity of his character rather than seek to win tlieir admiration by the parade of his gifts ; for he will know that all outward actions, however imposing, unless animated by the desire to glorify Christ and to follow him, will be at the best but a noisome carcase. He will therefore set lightly by the fading laurels which men would place on his brow, and keep always before his eyes the evergreen chaplet with which, in the event, his Lord will crown him. (3.) He also regards all the incidents of his outward history in their relation to his eternal future, and glorifies God by steadfastly acting accordingly. His largeness and clearness of view give corresponding elevation and decision to his character. He looks at things seen and temporal in the light of things unseen and eternal, and makes the short present life a means of > i'-J ?:!,(; vm m h n I r ri I3« STRENGTH OF SOUL MADE SI Iv I If preparation for the life that is endless. As a citizen of heaven, his heart is there, and with a holy foresight he lays up as large a treasure as possible in his true home. He counts it all joy when he falls into divers trials. He courts the encounter with difficulties, because he longs to make trial of his strength and courage, and to increase them. He meets his joys with the resolve to uplift and refine them. Wealth makes him happy, because it gives him a chance of laying his hand upon it and saying, " Not mine, but Christ's, and I am ^Tit His steward." He thus transmutes the mammon of unrighteousness into the gold of heaven. In family life he seeks to transport his earthly home as near as he can to the gate of heaven, in order that he and his dear ones may often look in and aim at becoming co-heirs of tlie eternal inheritance. "With cheerful patience he steps into the furnace of sorest affliction, with the Son of God at his side, know- ing that the fire will consume nothing but the bonds which unite him too closely to the world and to sin. The waves of sorrow may drive hard against his bark, but they will also serve to tighten the chain which connects it with the anchor, and thus give him fresh assurance of the firmness of the ground into which he has cast it; while at the same time the flag he has fastened above will have its folds opened out by the stormy wind, displaymg more fully the inscription upon it, " All things work together for good to them that love God." With calm courage and joy he will look forward to the passing away of the last earthly storm — the storm of death, and will see a rich-hued rainbow thrown upun its dark skirt by the clear shining of his soul's true Sun. PERFECT BY HOPE IN GOD. 137 And what afterwards ? " With the Lord " in soul immedi- ately, in perfect holiness, perfect love, and perfect bliss ; with the Lord, in due time, possessed of a body like unto that of his glorified Saviour; with the Lord, with Him for ever, in the entireness of his redeemed nature, and thus fifed for entering upon a course of endless growth in mind and knowledge and of unresting service. Have we made the hope that is laid up in God our own? If i>ot, some other hope will be cherished, for not to hope is not to live. But without God, without true hope. When He is not welcome to our thoughts, small, worldly, self-centred, and delusive hopes will spring up. What a contracting of the soul's ran^e of vision thus takes place, and what a dwarfing and enfeebling of the soul itself must follow ! This surely is the mere hewing of broken cisterns, while the fountain of living waters is close at hand. What these cisterns contain only pro- vokes thirst instead of quenching it, for they hold no water; no water to satisfy the craving of the heart — no water, not a drop, for the conscience. Moreover, the outlook of these false hopes is terminated by a gravestone. When a lightning-flash occasionally shoots through the dark beyond, partly revealing its vastness, as at the grave of a friend, the fearful vision is forgot- ten as soon as possible. Oh what contradictions of all that appears reasonable thus i)rusent themselves ! A feeble creature shunning his Almighty Maker and Sus- tainer ! A helpless smner turning away i'rom the loving Saviour 1 An immortal man terror-struck by his own immortality, and persistently shutting out from his heart 3 r rA I I ; Sill 138 STRENGTH OF SOUL MADE PERFECT BY HOPE. his only hope ! May God, of His great mercy, save us from this fateful blindness ! But those who have laid hold of this hope, however feebly, have the promise of divine help. He towards whom they seek to mount up, "giveth power to the faint, and to them that have no might He increaseth strength." How interesting to the Father's compas- sionate heart must be the first weak efforts of His sinful child in the approach to Him ! When he is yet a great way off the eye of yearning love sees him. While he is moving slowly and painfully on, and almost borne down by the sense of guilt, the Father runs to meet him with the speed of infinite mercy, and says to him, " Come now, and let us reason together. Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool." Thus are the clouds of despair chased away by the Father's breath, and thus is the sun of hope unveiled. C »39 ) ; ''GREAT FAITH." BY THE REV. E. THOMAS, NEWPORT. •* Then Jesus answered and said unto her, woman, great is tly faith : be it unto thee even as thou wilt. And her daughter was made whole from tliat very hour." — Matt. xv. 28. There were among the numerous followers' of the Lord Jesus many that were incapable of sympathising witli Him, and of comprehending the nature, bearing, and range of His teaching, as well as the great object of His work and life. They witnessed His miracles, listened to His utterances, and shared the gracious blessings which He so richly bestowed, and which so signally marked all the steps of His public ministry; but after all, " they had not His Spirit, and were none of His." Being His enemies at heart, they advanced against Him from misunderstanding to misrepresentation, from displeasure and disappointment to hatred and persecution, and that notwithstanding the unparallele'l goodness He showed them and the world, in word and deed, as " full of grace and truth." But He was opposed and persecuted not only not- withstanding His goodness, but also on account and hccause of that goodness, as His enemies often bv mis- representation endeavoured to turn His good works into evil deeds. It was for His !:iood works He was stoned i? i II' I40 "GREAT FAITH.'* more than once, and it was in consequence of some words of wisdom and truth which He had spoken, or s^ne merciful deed which He had performed. He founc it necessary to " hide Himself " in order to " jscape out of their hand." It was " by the Spirit of God " He ist out devils; but He was accused of doing so 'by Beelzul lib, the prince of the devils." Had He not cast out (ujvik at all, this charge would never have been broij'jlit .vgainst Him ; and so this " contradiction of sinners agi :;. t Himself" He had to endure because " He went about doing good." Many instances of this are recorded by the Evangelists, and we find one of them in the context. " Then came His disciples, and said unto Him, Knowest thou that the Pharisees were offended after they heard this sayii.g?" The saying in question which gave offence was the significant and important statement that it is what cometh out of a man's mouth, and not that which goeth into it, that defileth liim. This statement involved a truth of such importance to all, that the men who heard Him utter it might be expected warmly to thank Him for revealing it to them. But more fully explained by what He added, it condemned the Pharisees who had attempted to condemn the disciples. The latter, by not washing their hands before eating bread, " transgressed the tradition of the elders : " this was true, plain to all, and easily proved. But it was equally true and evident that the accusers, by teaching children by false pretences, hypocritical excuses, and pious fraud, to evade the claim of their parents upon their sympathy and practical help in the feebleness of their old age, "transgressed the com- ■' i ''GREAT FAITH." 141 mjinflinents of God." Thus the self-constituted judges and c( usurers of others are themselves condernnev is the greater transgiessors, by words which tried tii \l prin- ciples and weigliod tlieir actions. The truth which Christ made prominent, that men should always and above all things obey God, was of inestimable value to men of all nations and ages, but the teaching of it endangered His life where He was at the time. He must therefore seek shelter and safety elsewhere. The "coasts of Tyre and Sidon " wouM be as li^ ' 1/ as any place to iifford a safe retreat, where the pr »;y, -powerful on the spot where the offence was gi'''* n, would not be likely to give Him further trouWe. To Vose coasts therefore Jesus went; but prudence dict-^ed that His withdrawal sliould be kept as profound a seciet as possible. His going to the spot must be kept as unknown as the spot itself is secluded. There would be no safety for Him if the public knew where He was sheltering, nor would He be safer there from the revengeful wrath of the Pharisees than where He was before ; and for this reason He " would have no man know it." Possibly no man in the place He left did know it ; but though safe in His selected retreat from enemies. He could not be entirely concealed ; " for a certain woman," who needed His help, made known to others what she had discovered herself, that He had visited their locality. On her application to Him for relief, and the result, we shall now proceed to make the following remarks : — I ! Ml I. In the first place we notice her earnest prayer for the blessing she sought. 142 ''GREAT FAITH." Nor was it marked by earnestness only, but also and equally by directness, humility, and faitli. She deeply felt the distress tliat enabled her to seek relief, knew the nature of the blessing she wanted, which was mercy, and firmly believed she should obtain it. There was in her real earnestness much asking, seeking, and knocking, while her faith secured to her by anticipation the longed- for receiving, finding, and opening. She attaclied no conditions whatever to her suit. There was in it no "if" as to His power or will, lier own worthiness or un- worthiness, the facilities or difficulties involved in the case, the fitness or unfitness of the present oppor- tunity for her purpose, nor any otiicr considerations favourable or unfavourable to the success of her appeal. It was mercy she needed, mercy she sought, as she felt and believed her seeking would result in finding. No conditions, probable results, or possibilities, were allowed to interfere with the singleness and the directness of her prayer for the mercy for which she cried. The definite- ness of her prayer was the power of it ; as is the case with respect to every other prayer. A short arrow (sim})le prayer) shot from a tight string, is more likely to hit the mark than a larger one shot from a slack string. In all probability this Syrophenician had heard of Jesus as ever able and willing to relieve all sufferers and give rest to " all that laboured and were heavy laden," and who came to Him for help. The works He per- formed had already spread His fame as such ; His ministry and presence shook the Jewish nation to its very centre ; and His character as the bearer of all men's "GREAT FAITH.'' 143 l)urflens was widely known in " the regions beyond." " And His fame went throughout all Syria." " The people that sat in darkness saw great light ; and to tlu'in which sat in the region and shadow of death light is sprung up." Though this woman had long sat in that darkness, she too saw the great light which was now shining all around. He had been represented to her as the long-expected Messiah, the Messenger of mercy, the mighty Deliverer of the afllicted and oppressed ; and it is clear from the reverent manner in which she addressed Him that she had formed an enlightened and higli estimate of His character. He was to her both Lord and Son of David, divinely mighty and humanly sympathetic. In herself she was a defenceless victim of a power which she could not resist, and which had imposed a galling yoke upon her which it was her sad lot to bear as the mother of a helpless daughter, " grievously vexed with a devil." She was both a suiiject and a slave ; but there stood before her one that was Lord of all powers, with absolute authority to speak the commands of His own will,— "Go," "Come," "Do," and all and everything must obey. She had seen His shadow or likeness in the reports that had reached her of His fame ; and when He Himself appeared she instantly recognised Him as the great Benefactor; and witliout delay or doubt, with joy and gratitude seized the opportunity, tlie first that had been given her, and probjibly the last that ever would be given her, to secure the much-needed blessing. When pressing her appeal she fully trusted in tlie sufficiency of His power and the known rendiness of His will. It seems that this woman of Canaan, when she came ' t' "' Hi! ! I 144 ''GREAT FAITH." to Jesus for the help on which she had set her heart, knew iiotl'iiij^ of His " would have no man know it." To know that would certainly damp her ardour in urging her suit, prevent lier crying after Him, or possibly coming to Him at all on that occasion. The disciples, knowing that He had come to the place for the very purpose, as far as they knew, of hiding H'.aiself, felt uncomfortable and even annoyed at her loud cries, which made His arrival and presence known to all around. The cries of the woman are likely to defeat the object of the retreat, and make public what was intended to be kept a secret. This was what the disciples feared as directly frustrating the object of the journey. They clearly saw, as they thought, that tlie intended refuge was no hiding-place at all ; and that nothing was gained as far as secrecy was concerned by leaving Judea for it. The crying after them gave them such uneasiness and discomposure, because they thought it crossed the plan of their Master, that they impatiently besought Him to " send her away,'' satisfy and silence her at once, that they might hear it no more. Happily for the petitioner, herself knew nothing of the difficulty the disciples felt, and it therefore gave her no trouble. Her faith knevir neither too little nor too much. She clearly understood two things, — the distress she felt, and the mercy she sought, — herself and Jesus. Knowing that was enough and only enough ; to go farther and know difficulties would hinder, but could not help. Faith is not the offspring of human wisdom on the one hand, nor of huujan folly on the other. As in the case before us, it is neither an ideal image oi the mind nor a mere con- "GREAT FAITH" 145 f Is ception of tlie intellect, but a power of the spirit of man that takoth the kingdom of lieaveii "by force," as this woiiKiii did. " All tlir()U<,'h the wilderneBg It is our strenj^th and 'ay ; Nor can we miss the heavenly road^ While it directs our way." The Son of God had inde<'d manifested Himself to the peoi»le of Israel ; but they did not see His glory, though it appeared in the light of His mighty works and divine teaching. Tiie great majority of them failed to find Him even when He lived and worked among tliem ; but the faith of this woman, tliou;^h an alien within the borders of Tyre and Sidon, found Him wlien He was hiding. Slie was encouraged to come to Him by the fact that He had first come to her, and was at the time stan^ling within the limits of her own land. Her faith, as an effect, was hers, and in her; but the cause of it, grace and truth, was in Him. She follows because He leads ; and moves, as the earth around the sun, because He attracts. She took His character and history as His promise by antici- pation to realise and give her desire. She only wanted Him to repeat Himself, and become to her what He had proved Himself to be to every other sufferer that had ever sought His merciful aid. While the showers were so copiously coming down, might a drop fall on her ? " He could not be hid," though He wished it, and endeavoured to hide Himself, lie .'ouid tu'n water into wine without the help of any power but Hir. .iwn, cleanse lepers by the touch of His Land, subdue ? -ormy winds and angry waves into calm obedience, cast out devils and I b| 146 "GREAT faith:* laise the dead to life by the word of His mouth ; but this one thing he could not do — hide Himself. He found it easy to do everything else that He set His hand to; but the sun while it is shining cannot be hid. Let His enemies, who would set Him aside, put Him out of sight, darken the light of His gospel and extinguish the burning glory of His name, remember that they can never succeed in doing what He could not do Himself, — retire out 01 the sight and the reach of such as feel their need of help and mercy. While He is near and may be found, faith will ever cry after Him, " Cast forth the devil and have mercy." II, Id the second place we notice the success of this earnest appeal. The Son of God always rewarded the faith He evoked, and satisfied the expectations He excited. As usual, He did so in this case. Such were the sentiments contained in this petition, and the manner in which it was urged, that we wonder not at its success. From the first (not knowing the special difficulty of the case) success was only what might be expected. The distressed woman pleads her case with all the persuasive eloquence of the deepest emotion and sense of misery. She implored the Master to pity her, as only a woman, in the most affecting relation possible even to the tender sex, — that of a mother, could intercede. The deepest and most tender chord in her heart vibrates in the broken accents of her voice, touched as it is by the finger of no ordinary trouble, — " her daughter was grievously vexed." What can possibly « GREAT faith:' 147 v* h resist the force of such a prayer under such circumstances ? She asks for mercy and for nothing else : to show mercy was ever His greatest delight, His supreme pleasure and joy. He was never known to bruise; but under all the circumstances of His life, recognised the fact that He was sent and anointed " to heal the broken-hearted." The case under our notice was one for which the anointing was intended, as it was one of notliing but need on the one hand, and of no merit on the other. And further, the Son of God had appeared to " destroy the worKs of the devil." It was His wont to " heal all that were oppressed of the devil." The devil expected nothing at the hand of the Christ but the destruction of his works, of his kingdom, and of himself. He recognised the Friend of man the first time he met Him on earth as his tor- mentor. Whatever others expected from Him, the power that bruised the heel of humanity expected nothing but the bruising of its own head, to be bound up no more. The more entirely and the sooner all the works of the devil are destroyed, the better. Unless this is done speedily in the present case, the devil will destroy a noble specimen of God's work, — the daughter so grievously vexed, &c. To cast him out and afford relief was the acknowledged and special work of the Son of God ; and therefore the prayer which asks Him to perform it, must in all appearance succeed in securing a favourable answer. But a barrier, after all, is opposed to the progress of the desired success. " But He answered her not a word !" This silence was significant. It was very strange. What could have been the renson o^ it ? and what could it Hieau ? He often complained that when He spoke to the W\ lii; 148 ''GREAT FAITH." people of Israel, they as deaf men seemed not to hear Him, and refused to respond to His utterances ; but now a Gentile woman speaks to Him, and He seems either unwilling to listen or unable to reply. No one but Him- self knew why He was silent. His reply was indeed ready ; but it was only such as would bitterly disappoint the expectant and hopeful petitioner; and for that reason He was reluctant to give it. He will not say "No," a word in which He has no pleasure on this occasion, till circumstances com[)el Him to break silence and bring the matter to a close in some way or other. He cannot say "Yes;" His commission to Israel only rendering to Him the delightful concession inconsistent with that commission. For these reasons He remained lor a while, possibly a long while, silent. He could not say what He would and grant the blessing : He would not say what He could and refuse it ; and that being the case He would say nothing. Hence the mysterious silence. The suspense caused by this silence made the disciples somewhat uneasy : it was probably irksome to them. They betrayed this feeling in coming forward to proffer their good offices in behalf of the woman. Sympathy with her and her case was not the only motive that prompted them to take this step. Their chief object was to silence her. Let Him speak, and then they thought there would be no more " crying after them." This even could be secured by simply granting the blessing she needed. This was a short and easy way of getting out of the difficulty in which they found them- selves at the time. It would secure the secrecy which they knew the Master desired. Without delay they '* GREAT FAITH." 149 le le » )f boldly tell their Lord what they had decided among themselves as the best thing that could be done, which was to "send her away," but of course giving her the help for which she prayed. But they understood not what they said. If they had known more, they would have said less. This is not the only instance in which ignorance has presumed to solve problems and master difficulties that are often standing puzzles to knowledge. He tells them, " I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Israel." The woman of Canaan is not one of these sheep. This ends the matter. They have not another word to speak respecting it. They give up the case in despair as irrecoverably lost. To take the matter into her own hands and intercede for herself is now the only alternative left to the sorrow- ing mother. But is this step, if taken, likely to succeed ? Twelve disciples have failed : will one woman prevail ? Can weakness in her, single-handed in her effort, over- come the difficulty which has overcome the combined power of so many ? She can base neither her effort nor her hope on probability and encouraging surroundings. All these are against her. But in the face of all she dares go against them; and in doing so takes care to begin by choosing the most necessary, the safest, and wisest method of pressing her suit. She came to the great Eeliever herself, and pleaded her own case. Let all mediators stand aloof, and it will very soon be seen what her own personal application will accomplish. Friends, you need the blessings of the salvation which is in Christ Jesus ; come to Him for them, seek them yourselves, and for yourselves. Do not leave your case li i- \ ' ' i aiH: ISO "GREAT FAITH:' in the hands of others, however well disposed they may be towards you. The father and his returning prodigal son met when no one else was present ; and blessed were the results secured with no friend helping either father or son. But though this woman pleads for her- self, the first words the Saviour speaks to her are discouraging. " It is not meet," He says, " to take the children's bread, and cast it to dogs." That she was not of the house of Israel she knew before, as the Saviour described her condition by His reference to sheep and their shepherd. But still even in the light of that simile she was represented as a sheep of some other house. But the picture grows darker in the light of the simile which speaks of the contrasted conditions of children and dogs. The children's bread was not to be given to dosfs ; and a Greek woman was not to be granted one of the privileges intended for the children of Israel, This was the meaning ; and it was not in any way to be objected to. In accepting it she gives her fullest assent, and says, "Truth, Lord." As truth she accepted unreservedly what He said. But it was a truth that seemed to blast her hope of success, and to forbid her to say another word in support of her plea. But the keen, piercing eye of her faith sees some- thing even in this truth that she may press into her service and that at once. The logic of faith grasps the whole of the truth in question, not forgetting the crumbs. She contends that these are for dogs, as well as bread is for children. Bread is laid on the table, not for dogs but for children, and tlioudi dogs eat crumbs under the tablp, children have no reason to complain. There is ^ I'm u ''GREAT PAITH:^ 151 J i i i < i I a giving of bread to children ; but there is also an unintentional falling of crumbs for dogs. The petitioner applies this to her own case. She would not deprive the children of their loaf: but she would pick up a crumb that might happen to fall. Might something be done for her as by accident ? The Great Physician was not at the time on a professional visit to the place ; but He might perhaps turn aside for a few moments and attend to her case without much inconvenience. She was a strong defender of the children's right; but thought that dogs might, in another way, be attended to and fed, while those rights were preserved intact. This was the light in which she viewed and represented the case, and it was an admirable light. The Son of God yielded to the force of the argument she employed, and said unto her, "For this saying go thy way." It was one of the grandest sayings faith ever uttered, and He not only commended but also richly rewarded it as He dismissed the woman with the words, " woman, great is thy faith : be it unto thee even as thou wilt." This Gentile woman as a princess in faith. We have also a Gentile n 1, the centurion, a prince in faith. Abraham and Sarah were the father and mother of the Jewish world . faith ; let the Syrophenician. woman and the cent :rion be the mother and father of the Gentile world in faith. Our Abraham and Sarah in that case would compare well with the Abraham and Sarah of the Jews. ' ■ \\ m III. In the third p'.iVG we notice the result of the i' 152 '^ GREAT FAITH appeal, and the reward of the remarkable faith in which it was urged. The blessing prayed for was received, and the mother of the afflicted daugliter for whom she had had so earnestly prayed, found that, according to the Master's declaration to every one that trusts in Him, it was " sufficient for her." In her request she had described the help she wanted as a mere morsel. The reference to dogs made by the Saviour in His reply to her request did not allow her to expect anything more than that as her portion. She did not seem heiself to expect more than that as the measured help allotted to all in her rank and condition. But that which was small in ap- pearance was great in reality, for tliere was in it the power of the Ecdeemer to deliver and bless. His pity, though compared to a crumb, or called by any other as insigrJficant name, would prove a comjdete remedy and a blessing so full as would leavo nothing to be de- sired. Believing this, she asked for no more than mercy. *' Have mercy on me " was the language of her distrc" led heart, believing that that mercy, once moved and exercised, would take a full survey of the case, and remove the dreadful evil. His compassion, a crumb or a word, was all she wanted to serure ; for she knew He could bless as far as He could pity. His good will was salvation to her. A crumb, a smile, a word from Him spoken in mercy to us, and it will be well with us for evermore. A faith that placed such reliance on Him, did full justice to His power and com- passion. To reward that confidence He made what was asked for, thoagh in some sense a mere crumb, all-suf- " GREAT faith:' »53 ; ficin^ in the result. But as the woman's faith was worthy of Him, so was the blessing worthy of the faith. A faith worthy of Him whose power was boundless; a result — the afflicted " daughter made whole from that very hour " — worthy of that faith. It was the woman's part to believe, and vitally important to her to believe enough ; but it was His part to act, nor should He allow her to go further in believing than He in work- ing. She did much in believing that all was well when He said, " Be it done unto thee even as thou wilt ; " but He did much more, when He showed the mother His words in a real fact that appeared before her own eyes when she returned home. However far we go or can do in asking and thinking, " according to the power that worketli in us," le cm go much further, and often does go much further, and do for us something "exceeding abundant" above all that. Sufficiency is the measure of grace promised and given to God's people as the sup- port of their hope and faith, and this sufficient grace, enough (digon), is something better than either too little or too much. Too little would not realise the object and secure the end; while with more than sufficient something must be lost as wasted crumbs. Enough — neither too little nor too much — secures the end, while nothing is lost. It is not so much help from Christ, and no more, to be supplemented by our own resources if found inadequate, but a supply sufficient to meet all the exigencies of the case to be relieved, however deep and various its needs. The grace of Christ is givei:! not by measure, but according to the needs of the petitioner. He takes to every one's case as it is, and repeats to all m m,' H '54 GREAT PAtTtir the old assurance, " Mv grace is sufficient for thee." The woman in the text evidently believed that if He took to the case, if she could only secure His compassion and good will, all the rest would follow, and the end would be well ; and she was right. He was ever ready to realise all the expectations of trust in Him, and to meet in full all demands upon the boundless fund of His mercy and love. Much may be urged, felt, and acknowledged as mili- tating against many a case that prevails in obtaining the blessing at last. We have an instance of this in the case under notice. There was a great truth, so import- ant and evident that it could not be set aside, overlooked or forgotten, testifying against its success. That truth was fully stated by Christ as an obstacle in His way even to entertain the question of helping on that occa- sion, as He was requested to do. This truth was the acknowledged maxim that it was " not meet to take the children's bread, and cast it to dogs." All this was against the woman ; but it was true, and truth itself. What can she do with it ? Will she deny it ? Impos- sible. Nay ; she frankly admits it, and says, *' Truth, Lord." But is not the truth thus confessed fatal to her suit, and does it not conclude the case against her? Denied it would have been so ; for neither wisdom nor mercy can do anything against truth. But as the truth in this case was confessed as divine and irresistible in its authority, faith and mercy opened a way by which truth was saved and the suppliant blessed. Dogs eat crumbs. To this the Saviour in effect answered, " Truth, woman ; " for it was an everyday fact that dogs ate ''GREAT faith:' »55 crumbs as cliiklren ate bread. Thug truth was not dis- honoured when the captive, oppressed sulferor was set at liberty. Truth, as we are sinners, is a power against our salvation ; and mercy can do nothing for us wliich in any way militates against truth. But when we confess and submit to the truth which is against us, other truths be- friend and save us. When the loaf fails, the crumb serves. The Pharisee in the Temple concealed from himself the fact that he was a sinner, which fact was the great truth in his case. He spread a cloali of ex- ternal religious performances over that unwelcome fact, endeavouring to hide it from himself and from Goil, hoping thereby to be justified. That it might not appear that he was a sinner, he spoke of nothing but righteous- ness. But this was to seek justification at the expense of truth ; while the publican, on the other hand, by con- fessing his sins, sought justification by the aid of truth. He first justified God and himself in acknowledging his unworthiness and need of mercy, and it was he, and " not the other man, that went down to his house justified." The woman in the text pleaded her case as if conscious that mercy was impossible at the expense of truth. Mercy ever stoops to lift the penitent that humbleth himself before the authority of truth. Let us not, when we come to God for the blessings of His salvation, forget or endeavour to set at nought the truth wldch stands against us ; for it is only as we are reconciled to it mercy is reconciled to us. Mercy is ever consistent with truth. It is when we acknowledge the latter we attain the former. All the truths of salvation imply mercy as the truth of bread to children su^i-ested. p fiHQR| I • I 156 ''GREAT FAITH.'' Tlie work of tlie Saviour in the instance under our notice would be often recalled and long remembered by the motlier as well as by her daughter. It left its own impress of preciousness on tlie very time in which it was done. Our Evangelist gives prominence to this in re- cording it, "And her daughter was made whole from that very hour." He set His stamp, the Divine impress, on that hour, and it was revered ever alter as specially His. And His was a hapi)y liour. Times and circumstances leave their mark upon us ; but He left His mark on the circumstances connected with and the time of His visit to the borders of Tyre and Sidon. The power that so " grievously vexed " the young victim had marked many a lingering, painful hour in the sad experience of the past, claiming them as its hours, and entirely under its own control. But at length the light of His hour dawned on the dark scene, and brought with it relief, health, strength, and joy. The mark He set upon it when He said, " Be it done unto thee- even as thou wilt," singled it out as the firstborn of many succeeding hours, "like it in the joy of their bliss, for the alllicted " was made whole from that very hour " for all the future hours of her life. The mid-day of the day in which Saul of Tarsus saw the glory and heard the voice of the Lord Jesus never died out of his memory ; but the associa- tions of it remained an ever-present, living power in his soul to the end of his life. The occurrence on the way near Damascus made that mid-day hour emphatically and in a most important sense his " Master's *' hour. There are times and seasons in your own life and experi- ence, so wonderful in their influence upon you, and ''GREAT FAITH." 157 SO blessed in their results, that they are to you seasons full of lieaven, which leaves very plainly its impress upon them. One of the seasons is tliat in which you were brought to God, saved from your sins and unbeliefs, and your name enrolled in the Lamb's book of life. Was not that time His hour, and so full of His power and grace as henceforth to be recoi^nised as llis ? The first day of the week is His day. Ho claims it as His, to l)e devoted to the uses and ends of His resurrection. The ensign by which that day is known is life and immor- tality, — tlie mark which He set upon it wlien He arose from the dead and abolished deatli. Let no unhallowed hand attempt to tear that mark away, and deprive the day of its sacred significance. And as the time Christ employs to bless becomes His, so do the souls He saves. He writes His " own name " upon them, and they will be known for ever as His. ^ Q i» o o o e^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I LilM |25 |jo ■^~ IIII^H ■^ Ui2 12.2 n^ us, mil 2.0 P^ll!'-^ ■' ' ^ 6" ► > ^ '^ > 7. j> > '!>' '# -^ Hiotographic Sdences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. M5S0 (716) 872-4503 '^^ ( 158 ) CHRISTIANITY A FACT AND A POWER, BY THE REV. GRIFFITH PARRY, ABERYSTWYTH. " And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world. " Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwell- eth in him, and he in God." — i John iv. 14, 15. This chapter consists of two parts, as it deals with Christianity in its two aspects of Truth and Love. I. In the first six verses the Gospel is regarded as a system of divine truth. Tests are supplied for distinguish- ing true and false prophets — the spirit that is of God and the spirit of Antichrist — the spirit of truth and the spirit of error. We have here two tests. The teachers are to be known by their ministry and by their followers. One distinguishing mark is their doctrine. The teachers of the truth, or the true ministers of the Gospel, are to be known by the subject-matter of their ministry, that which they proclaim or confess. The " present truth " of that age was the Incarnation. This was the touch- stone of a true ministry. Gnosticism — that huge system of error which had developed itself by the latter end of the first century — denied the Incarnation, the funda- mental fact of the Gospel. This was destructive of the entire Gospel fabric. Therefore, to announce or to deny \i CHRISTIANITY A FACT AND A POWER. »59 the Incarnation — to confess or to deny that Jesus is the Christ, or " that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh " — this it was that divided the religious teachers of the age into two classes, the true and the false : " Hereby know ye the spirit of God : every spirit that confesseth that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is of God : and every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not of God : and this is that spirit of anti- christ whereof ye have heard that it should come ; and even now already is it in the world " (chap. iv. 2, 3). They were to be known also by t\iQir followers. Even as truth and error divided religious teachers, the teachers also divided the hearera Like attracted like. Those that were of the world, the world heard them — the world in the preacher drew after it the world in the hearers. On the other hand, they that were of God, those who knew God, heard them ; the divine in the preacher attracted the divine in the hearers. " They are of the world, therefore speak they of the world, and tlie world heareth them. We are of God, he that knoweth God heareth us : he that is not of God heareth not us. Hereby know we the spirit of truth and the spirit of error" (chap. iv. 5, 6). Those that were of God and those that were of the world formed two opposite classes; the difference between them was marked and obvious: and the different attitudes of these two classes towards the respective teachers proved who taught the truth. 2. From the 7 th verse to the end of the chapter Christianity is regarded as a principle of love. Love is the distinguishing principle of the Christian religion. As an external system, in its objective aspect, it is t i n\ I : !M .M' i; s> m i II ^1 i6o CHRISTIANITY A FACT AND A POWER. truth; as an internal principle — in its subjective aspect, it is love. As truth, it addresses itself to the reason ; as love, it controls the heart The external truth once received realises itself as love within. Truth is converted into love. It is truth of such a character that the moment it is believed it of necessity begets love. It is truth concerning love, a revelation of the love of God towards the world ; and as soon as it is believed it can- not fail to produce love towards God in return : " We love Him, because He first loved us" (chap. iv. 19). And after love has once entered the heart, God has come to dwell in that heart, because "God is love." The Spirit of God is the spirit of love. Therefore it is through love that the highest end of religion is answered — the healing of the breach which sin had made between man and God — the waking of God and man one — He in us, and we in Him. In accordance with the above explanation, we have here two signs of true religion — belief in the Incarnation and brotherly love. These are the two conditions of the divine indwelling — to believe that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, and to love one another. In other words, the two principal graces of the Gospel — faith and love : " faith in Christ Jesus and love towards all the saints." These are the two bonds of the union of the Church : faith unites all the members with the Head, and love unites all the members with each other. In the two verses before the text, brotherly love is specified as a condition and a proof of our dwelling in God : •* No man hath seen God at any time. If we love pne another, God dwelleth in us, and liis love is per- CHRISTIANITY A FACT AND A POWER. i6i fected in us. Hereby know we that we dwell in Him, and He in us, because He hath given us of His Spirit," ver. 12, 13. In the verses of the text, belief in the Incarnation is set forth as the condition or proof of the mutual indwelling of God and us, the one in the other, He in us and we in Him : " And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world. Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him, and he in God." If it be asked, why does the apostle recur to this second mark, after he had treated it in the first portion of the chapter ? the answer is : In the former part of the chapter the apostle lays down belief in the Incarnation as a proof of a true ministry ; but here he adduces it as a proof of true religion. To believe that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not alone the note of true ministers, but of true believers also : " Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him, and h^ in God." The text represents Christianity as a fact and as 9 power. In the 14th verse we have Christianity as ^ fact: "And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world." In the I 5 til verse Christianity is presented as a power: " Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in hira, and he in God." These, then, are the two subjects set before us in the text : Christianity as an external fact in the history of the worlds and Chris- tianity as a spiritual power , or a source of permanent in- fiiLence on the world, - I i\ lit \' 1 1 ifc. ' ^1 : r Mi ;■ l62 CHRISTIANITY A PACT AND A POWER, I. Christianiiy is an exteiinal FACT in the hiatmy of the world : " And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world." I. The condition of the world was desperate. Man through sin had destroyed himself. Nothing short of salvation would have met the case of man as a sinner. This salvation of necessity had to come from God. In the providential arratigements which are so full of meaning in the world's history, humanity had been put upon its trial for thousands of years in the development of its own resources. And instead of development, what do we find but deterioration ? Or rather there was a fearful concurrence of the two processes. Side by side with material and intellectual development there went on for ages a corresponding spiritual deterioration. As one side of our nature was rising, the other was sinking — sin thus ever exhibiting in its effects more and more its own monstrosity. Such was the power of corruption that every material, intellectual, and social advancement was perverted to be the instrument of greater wickedness, until at last, when artistic and literary beauty liad reached its climax, — when human culture and political power had culminated in the Roman Empire, — there was seen a spec- tacle of moral degradation, a depth of corruption and misery such as the world had never witnessed. Society was rotten to its very core. Its disintegration was im- minent. Like the woman in the Gospel, humanity, after trying all the physicians of nature, instead of being cured, had become worse and worse. The machinery had no self-adjusting power; it could not right itself. In the physical system the vis medicatrix naturae is CHRISTIANITY A FACT AND A POWER. 163 invaluable, as without it the best efforts of the physician would be of no avail. But in the spiritual constitution there is no such self- restorative power. The power must come from without. The maker of the machinery alone can repair it. The comparison is too weak : it is not a matter of repairing, but of re-creating. He who created humanity at iirst is alone able to create it anew. The Author of life can alone quicken the dead. " Salvation is the Lord's." The sinner can destroy himself, but he cannot save himself. All his help is from God. As salvation could have come only from God, so the order of the Divine nature made it a necessity that it should originate in the First Person of the Godhead — in God "the Father, of whom are all things." And the same Divine order rendered it necessary that it should be accomplislied by the Second Person — God " the Son, through whom are all tilings." This is what took place : " the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world." 2. This salvation was of necessity a fact. It was a great act. Tlioughts and words would not have sufficed to save us; good wishes would not have availed us, without action. To speak would not have been enough. To do was essential. Eedemption was a uork of infinite greatness and difficulty. It is observable how often the verb "to make" occurs in the Gospels and Epistles. Our salvation throughout was one vast, unparalleled making. "The Word was made flesh;" "made of a woman ; " " made under the law ; " " made to be sin ; " " made a curse for us." And this making of Him was a necessary condition of a great making by Him. After He had thus assumed our nature and become our surety, He I > FT;' i >- II i- 164 CHRISTIANITY A FACT AND A POWER. / obeyed, suffered, and died for us in order to make atone- ment for sin, to "make reconciliation for iniquity," to "make peace througli the blood of His cross." And this making of Him and by Him were botli tiie conditions of an ultimate making through Him : " that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him," made " partakers of the Divine nature," made "children of God" and " heirs of eternal life." Thus our redemption cost more than good wishes — more than words of sympathy. We are bought with " a price " of intinite worth. God's own Son bad to shed His own blood to be a ransom for us : " the Church of God, which He purchased with His own blood." Nothing less than this stupendous price could have brought us salvation : " without shedding of blood is no remission." And we may remark, in answer to the superficial, sickly sentimentalism wliich in these days so often seeks to assail the doctrine of the Atonement under the guise of a jealous regard for the glory of the fatherhood and love of God — that the holiness and righteousness which made this intinite sacrifice necessary are the very pillars of the universe. They are the fundamental conditions of the well-being of all God's moral creation. The love that would ignore all that is right and just and pure is not worthy the name ; it is not a principle but a sentiment — a contemptible weakness. It is the union of justice and love in the character of God and in the atoning death of Christ that makes both adorable. They illuminate each other with an ineffable glory. Justice glorifies Love ; Love beautifies Justice. God's thoughts were ever for our salvatioa He felt '< it CHRISTIANITY A FACT AND A POWER. .65 with divine intensity for our salvation from all eternity. But an eternity of thinking, although it was God that was thinking, an eternity of feeling, although it was God that was feeling, would not have wrought salvation for a single soul, unless the thoughts and feelings had been converted into acts. And it is this that we find in the history of the Man Christ Jesus — the eternal tlioughts and feelings of the Godhead realised in glorious works. Thus salvation is a series of acts constituting one glorious work — a series of unparalleled facts as links in a chain making one great fact, a chain of salvation for raising sinners from the depths of sin to the heights of holiness. The glory of Christianity is that it reveals salvation; and the glory of salvation is tliat it is a great fact — a divine fact accomplished in human nature. This is its power and efficacy. It is a salvation, not in imagination, nor in theory, nor in purpose, nor in words, but in fact — in very deed. In spite of all the powers of darkness, it is a great fact. It exists, and will endure for ever. It cannot be explained away. No logic or sophistry can shake it. " Everlasting strength " belongs to it as to its Author. There is no truth in history to-day supported by such various and incontrovertible proofs as this : that God, about 1 800 years ago, interposed supernaturally in the history of the world — that God in a special manner entered into the spiritual history of mankind, in a Person, an act, and a series of acts, that were unprecedented, in order to be the Saviour of the world. " And without controversy great is the mystery of godliness : God was manifest in the flesh." " For when we were yet without I i I 1 66 CnRlsriANlTY A FACT AND A POWER. strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly." Christianity is a religion of facts — the most conspicuous in history. It can never be reasoned away. The work of the gospel ministry is to proclaim the facts of salvation : "And we have seen and do testify that *he Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world." The apostles had seen and had lived in close intercourse with the Saviour. They were eye-witnesses of the great facts of salvation — the life, the death, the resurrection and ascension of our Lord. Their work was to bear testimony to these facts : and our work, and that of our successors, is to continue to perpetuate the testimony, to hold up " the banner of salvation " to the end ot time. Our business is not to argue or to philosophise, but to testify. " Christianity is not a religion of rites, therefore its ministers are not to be priests ; it is not a religion of metaphysical dogmas, therefore its ministers are not to be philosophers : but it is a religion of facts, therefore its ministers are to be preaehers." * Our business is to preach, to procl.'iim, to do the work of the King's messenger — to announce "that Christ Jesus has come to the world to save sinners ; " that there is life for a sinner in His death ; that the greatest sinners are welcome to come to Him to be for ever saved through Him. "And this is the record (or the testimony), that God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in His Son ; " " And we have seen and do testily that the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world." This is the grand purpose of churches, chapels, sermons, and Christian activity in all its forms — to hold up the * Dr. Maclaren. CHRISTIANITY A FACT AND A POWER. 167 testimony concerning Christ — to announce to the world its life-messaga II. Christianity is a SPIRITUAL POWER, or a source of permanent influence on the world. " Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him, and he in God." I. The Incarnation of the Son of God was the indis- pensable condition of the reunion of man with God. This is the hi'^hest greatness that any creature is ever capable of attaining — that God should " dwell in him, and he in God." This does not mean to be lost like a wavelet in the ocean of Godhead, as the Pantheist imagines, but to become one with God in the affinity of holiness and the fellowship of love, and yet to preserve for ever our personal individuality in the conscious enjoyment of that union. This has been the professed object of every religion — to unite man witli God. There is a deep spiritual instinct in humanity to which Augustine gave expression when he said, " that man has been formed for God, and that lie can never be happy but in God." This was the great problem of the religions of the heathen world through the ages — how to restore the union between man and God. But they all mistook the way. The religions of the world aimed at raising man to God through the exercise of moral virtues. But in order to accomplish this, something else had to be done first. Before man could be raised to God, God had to come down to man — yea, had to become man. The High and the Lofty One had ill .: 1 t : !|| m J: ;t ^ ii^ CHRISTIANITY A FACT AND A POWER. to come down to tlie depth in order to raise sinners and to unite them for ever with Himself. It was this that was accomjilished in the Incarnation. The Son of God became the Son of man, in order that the sons of men might be made tlie sons of God. He brought heaven down to earth in order to lay hold of earth to raise it up to heaven. " Now that He ascended, what is it but that He also descended first into the lower parts of the earth ? He that descended is the same also that ascended up far above all heavens, that he might fill all things" (Eph. iv. 9, 10). The very principle of salvation, the sole possibility of salvation, lies in these words — to ascend — " what is it but that he also descended first ? " This is the condition of our salvation — to descend first. It would have been for ever impossible to raise sinners from the depths had not the Saviour " descended first " to the depths. Man could not have been saved by ascendirig — by the mere development of his natural powers. Our salvation has been wrought by a descent of unparalleled nmgnitude — the Eternal God descending from the infinite heights, and making His abode with man by becoming man ! Descent is the ground of ascension. Thus it was for Christ Himself, thus it is for us through Him. 2. It follows that the Incarnation and death of the Son of God form the spiritual power that is to create the world anew — the moral levtr for raising humanity to God. The Gospel concerning Christ and His work " is the power of God unto salvation." This is the great power that must be brought to bear upon human nature to regenerate it, to create tlie new heavens and the new i I CHRISTIANITY A FACT AND A POWER. 169 earth, to restore mankind to holiness and happiness. •' For this purpose the Son of God was manifested, that he might destroy tlie works of the devil" (i John iii. 8). The efficacy of a belief in the Incarnation of the Son of God, with all it involves, is shown in the text in a strong light, by making such a belief to be the condition of the highest spiritual result : "God dwelleth in him, and he in God." If we would become one with God, — and what higher glory or felicity is conceivable ? — let us ever remember that Christ in His obedience and atoning death is the medium. He is " the Way ; " " no one cometh to the Fath'^r but through Him." If we would be godly — at jieace with God, renewed to the image of God, living in close communion with God — this is the secret, to believe that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, that He lived and died in our stead ; to have fellowship with Him by faith, and by faith and love to draw the virtues of His death to our spirits. This is the interpretation given by some of that great verse in the 2nd Epistle of Timothy: "And without controversy, great is the mystery of godliness, God was manifest in the flesh." The doc- trine of the Incarnation is the great mystery of godliness as an objective system of truth. It is the central truth. But it is equally doul^tless that a vigorous practical belief in mat doctrine is the great mystery or secret of godli- ness as a subjective principle of holiness. If we see a Christian of extraordinary attainments in godliness, we may be sure that this is the. secret of his strength — his thoughts and affections revolve constantly around this great centre, " God manifest in the flesh ; " he J ! r !.l ' ¥'■ I 170 CHRISTlANtTY A FACT AND A POWER. abides by faith and love in Christ, and thereby God dwells in him, and he in God. This is the " secret of godliness." 3. Hence the facts of our redemption accomplished in Palestine 1 800 years ago remain in the world yet, as great spiritual forces operating on the souls of men to raise them to God. Every particle of spirituality, of holiness or godliness, to be found in the world to-day, is the fruit of the Incarnation and Atonement of the Son of God. What do we see in the holy conduct of godly men throughout the world, in their heavenly conversation ? What do we see in the Christian graces and activity of the Church ? It is the fruit of the " grain of wheat " that died — the spiritual efficacies of the death of the Cross developing themselves in all the forms of the Christian life. We conclude with two remarks of practical applica- tion : — I. Let us appreciate the Gospel above all things. This is the purpose of the Gospel and its ordinances — to perpetuate the Incarnation and the Atonement. To make the coming of Christ in the flesh, the death of the Cross, the facts of our salvation — to mal^e them ever- present realities before the eyes of the world. To point to the Saviour, and direct lost sinners to Him, proclaim- ing : " Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away th^j sins of the world ! " To point to the Cross — to " show forth the death of the Lord." To point to the empty grave, announcing, " Verily, the Lord hath arisen." And to point to the result of the whole — the God-man glorified, sitting on tiie tlirone, invested with all the CHRtSTtANlTY A FACT AND A POWER. !7l authority of the universe of God — all power in heaven and earth for saving purposes, for realising the objects of His redeeming work. This is the purpose of the Gospel ; to keep this fountain of living waters in full play on the parched wilderness of the earth — to make the facts of redemption ever-present realities before the world, so as thereby to bring them to operate as all- powerful spiritual forces in the lives of men, re-uniting them to God. 2. Let us ever remember that godliness, and all pro- gress in holiness, draws its strength from Christ and His cross, His life, death, and resurrection. The conservation of force and the conversion of forces are amongst the greatest discoveries of modern science. Force any more than matter is not annihilated — force in nature is never lost. And physical forces are convertible into each other, as heat into motion. These are but recent discoveries in science ; but they have always been operative and known in the spiritual world. There was force in the Incarna- tion ; there was spiritual power in the death of the Cross ; there was divine energy in the resurrection on the third day. Yes : and the force remains to this day ! Not a particle of the power of the Gospel has been lost in the course of eighteen centuries. Though it has been working all that time, the power is not any the less to-day. The Gospel of Christ is still " the power of God unto salvation." We find also in nature that one force is convertible into another. It changes its form. It is the heat of the sun in another form that burns on every hearth. George Stephenson, in the beginning of the railway age. ^i l\ H i * iiii liR i;: CHRISTIANITY A PACT AND A POWER. asked Sir David Brewster whs', was the power that worked the train ? After two or three unsatisfactory answers, Steplienson said it was the sun : the heat of the sun preserved in trees, converted into coal, and liberated again by combustion, is the motive power that works all the steam-engines on sea and land. In like manner, spiritual forces are convertible into various forms and modes of action. What is the fire of love that burns in the hearts of believers through all countries and ages ? It is all kindled by heat from the Sun of Eighteousness. The power that sets and keeps in motion all the machinery of the Church, every form of Christian activity, comes from the Sun. What do we see in the believer ? The spiritual force of the Incar- nation turned into a godly life. What is the obedience and the holy life of a Christian ? It is a form of the power tliat comes from the death of the Cross. What is a life of faith, a heavenly conversation, the affections set on things that are above ? They are so many forms of " the power of His resurrection " — the spiritual forces of redemption working in and through those that be- lieve. Let us then live in the rich pastures of the things concerning Christ ! May we abide in Christ through His words abiding in us. Let us pitch our tents at the foot of the Cross, and on the holy mount of fellowship with Him, so that our lives may be gradually trans- figured through the glorious light that comes from Him. ( 173 ) LIFE THROUGH THE NAME OF THE SON OF GOD. BY THE REV. W. WILLIAMS, SWANSEA. ** But these are written, that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God ; and that believing, ye might have life through His name."— John xx. 31. The Word of God teems with life, and it is that that gives it one of the designations by which it is known — the "Word of Life. There is not a word tliat is more important to us in the whole Bible than life, and there are not many words which we more frequently find in it. Of all our wants, the greatest and most urgent is our want of life. It is this that is at the source of every other want ; but the Scriptures throughout assure us that abundant provision to meet this want is made in the Gospel of the grace of God. Sin came into the world, and sin is death. On the day that man sinned he died, and death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned. Salvation has come into the world, and salvation is life. Ezekiel saw waters spring from under the threshold of the house of God, and becoming deeper and mightier as they moved along. They flowed towards the east, where living things had died ; but wherever they came 'I V IK':! ill 174 LIFE THROUGH THE NAME OF they brought life with them. They ran into the Dead Sea, and immediately it became a sea of life. There is a " pure river of the water of life, clear as crystal, proceed- ing out of the throne of God and the Lamb." It has flowed in our direction, and has reached this world, which had become the dominion of death. The Apostle Paul speaks of the reign of death, — not of death struggling for existence, striving might and main to secure for itself a footing in the world, but reigning — having it all its own way. We know what things do and become under the reign of death. We know how that which was once beautiful decomposes and hastens towards corrup- tion from the moment when it becomes subject to the call of death ; and that is but a faint picture of the evils wrought by sin upon all who are under its dominion. But salvation is a river of life. Wheresoever its waters flow they check the progress of death. The enemy meets more than its master. There is greater power here than it is able to cope with. The river of life turns back the deadly tide, and death is swallowed up in victory. The text brings us good tidings — that we may have life, and teaches us how we may avail ourselves of them — •* that believing ye may have life through His name." I. The LIFE that we receive — " That ye may have life." I. What is it ? What does it mean ? One thing that it means is the permission to live. A complete release, granted by the just God, as Judge and Ruler of all, from the obligation to die that lies upon us as sinners. When a man under sentence of death petitions her Majesty for his life, that which he asks for is permission to live. THE SON OF GOD. m He asks her to be so merciful as to send to the proper officials her royal commands not to put him to death. His life is not wortli much, with the ruined and disgraced cliaracter which he must bear as long as he lives, but lie feels it to be the greatest favour that it is possible for him to have tvi be permitted to keep it as it is. That was the petition of Ben-liadad to Ahab, " I pray thee, let me live ; " be so merciful as not to put me to death. God has said that the sinner must die. It is one of the standing rules of His kingdom, a rule based upon the principle which is the foundation of His everlasting throne, that "the soul that sinneth shall die." That means more than the death of the body. It involves the death of the soul, or as it is expressed by our Lord Jesus, the castinq of the soul and bodv into hell. That is the fate to which we have exposed ourselves by our sins, a fate which has already overtaken many — we know not how many — who were once in the same circumstances with ourselves. When we ask for our life, we pray God to spare us that terrible doom. And in mercy that may be done, and done in a righteous way. The command which has gone foith to bind us hand and foot and cast us into outer darkness, may be countermanded without the contradiction of anything that is true or the violation of anything that is right. God is able, in perfect harmony with every principle of His government, to syare the life of the greatest sinner, and to say unto the ministers of His justice — "Deliver him from going down to the pit; I have found a ransom." 2. And this is all the idea of life which some are able to grasp — a mere escape from the penal side of the cou- . . I I'l' Im •■\\ ll'l I 176 LIFE THROUGH THE NAME OF sequences of sin. But our state is such that this by itself would not be much after all. A man asks God Almighty not to put him to death. Let it be supposed that he has that which lie asks for — that God says to him, " Thy petition is granted ; My sword shall never touch thee ; My hand will never be lifted against thee ; I will command all My servants not to hurt thee — go, and live as long as thou art able." How could he live ? The sentence of death which rests upon him is not his only danger. There is death within him — the motions of sin which is in his members are bringing forth fruit unto death. Sin reigns in his soul, and the reign of sin is, and always has been, unto death. Sin k at work in every part of his moral constitution, and sin when it is finished bringeth forth death. If there were no " place of torment," there is sufficient evil within him to make sin a torment to himself. It is not permission to live only that he wants — he is quite as much in need of the power to live. He wants something to do battle with the death that is going on within him; something to affect his character as well as his state, and affect it quite as much ; to make him a new creature ; a good man, able to live, and fit to live for ever. We are at every moment in danger of that death which is the penalty of sin, until our character has been so changed as to make us unfit for it. I am pained by the thought of having to lie in the grave, but so it must be. Some day a company of people will come to my house, take me up, carry me out, lay me in the grave, shut me in, and leave me there. It is a gloomy subject to think on ; but there is comfort in the assurance that I shall not be )l THE SON OF GOD. 177 laid in the grave as long as I live. The grave is only for the dead. There is a burying-place of souls some- where within the dominions of the great God. How many have been buried there ? How many are going down from day to day into that grave ? How many are in danger of falling there now ? We cannot telL But there is one thing which we can safely say, — it is only for the dead. If you are made partakers of the life of whicli the text speaks, you are safe forever from going down to the pit. This is what the life is, — religion, the grace of God in the heart of man. It pervades the whole character, just as natural life pervades the whole body in which it dwells. The life of the tree reaches every leaf and every fibre of every leaf, and fills it. Wlierever a living body is touched, life meets that touch, and answers from within, " I am here." It is pushing everywhere — it is taste in the mouth, it is smell in the nostrils, it is hearing in the ear, it is vision in the eye, it is energy to move and to act throughout the whole constitution. The dead is dead everywhere, but the living is every- where alive. When the heart is dead, the hand cannot move ; but where there is life within, it reaches to the tips of the fingers. And the moral character of man affects his whole being. His circumstances may change, and leave him in everything great just that which he was before. A large fortune would make a great change in a poor man. It would change his dress, change his residence, change his companions, and marvellously increase the number of his relatives ; but under the black broad- I- i m 178 LIFE THROUGH THE NAME OP cloth and in the mansion you would meet the same man as you used to meet under the fustian and in the cottnge. There are things in his nature that are too deep for circumstances to reach. Wealth must say, " I cannot move them," and education must say, " I cannot touch them." It is that which a man is that affects him through and through. If he is a bad man, the badness reaches everywhere; there is not a power or a passion which his sin has not corrupted and de- praved. It affects his feelings towards all and every- thing. It affects every resolution that he forms and every desire that he entertains; and very often some one particular sin gets such a mastery over him that he sees everything in its light. He seems unable to love, or hate, or think, or do anything but according to the dictates of that all-controlling sin. Some have become such sots that they feel that there is nothing throughout the whole of God's creation of any value but strong drink, and that it is not worth their while to exert themselves for any other purpose than to get abum^lance of drink ; some have become so worldly that they feel that the chief end of man is to make money. It is in accordance with this feeling that they understand, and wish, and resolve, and love, and hate ; and their conscience, though it may be severe on other points, is willing to make large allowances in favour of money, and to let all the faculties under its charge fall on their knees and worship the golden god. Thus it is in respect of every reigning sin — it is death to every good, death everywhere, death always. Beligion is life, and when present in man it pervades THE SON OF GOD. 179 his whole character. It enables his understanding to see all tilings in a new light, makes his intellect bow to the authority of the Word of God, conforms his will to the will of the Master, sets his affections upon things that are on high, gives unto his conscience tlie peace that passeth understanding, turns away his eyes from beholding vanity, guides his feet into the way of peace ; it gives a character to his relations with God and his dealings with men; it enables him to hold communion with the world to come, and to use this world without abusing it. Its influence reaches from the highest heaven to the lower parts of the earth, for it makes a man obedient to his God and merciful to the life of his beast. Unless our religion thus controls us, it is not the life; unless it is everywhere, it is nowhere, and we have only the name to live whilst we are dead. 3. And this life is indispensable, not only to secure for us admission into heaven at last, but also to enable us to do all that we have to do on our way there. The dead can only go where it is carried. Power must be brought to bear upon it from without before it moves at all. But to do our work, to contend with our difficulties, to withstand our temptations, to fight our battles, and to push on and on against the stream until we reach the heavenly city, we must — there is no alternative — we must have life. I ; ! '■ nil I II. The WAY in which we receive life. " And that believing ye might have life through His name.** Christ's name is above every name. It fills the heavens, fills the earth, and is itself full of life. He ig i8o LIFE THROUGH THE NAME OF " Christ our life — the Prince of life ; in Him is life, and the 'ife is the light of men. He is tho way, the truth, and the life — He is the resurrection and the life — He came that we might have life, and that we might have it more abundantly." It is a fact that is ac- knowled;:ed throughout all the dominions of the King of kings, that he that hath the Son of God hath life. I. There is merit in His name to save the life which has been forfeited by sin. The law which has been transgressed demands the life of the transgressor. We have all done those things which are worthy of death. The wages of sin is death, and whatever that may mean, we must confess that we have justly exposed ourselves to it. And we have done nothing to deserve exemption from it. We have absolutely nothing that is acceptable unto God to offer as a ransom ibr our life. Go to the throne of the great Judge of all, and take with you all your goods and your chattels, your good quali- ties and your good deeds, your alms and your gifts, your labours and your sacrifices, your repentance and your tears, your vows and your resolutions, and offer them all as a ransom for your soul ; I tell you that they shall be utterly rejected. All these things fall infinitely beneath the standard of that which is required of you. Die you must, and die for ever, for all that such things as these can do in your behalf. " What then shall I do ? " Go to the Throne, taking nothing with you but the Name, and the sentence of death under which you lie shall be reversed in a moment, and you shall live. Qur sins are manv, as the stars of heaven for multi- i n THE SON OF GOD. i8i tude, and weighty as the everlasting mountains. All the good that has ever been done by us is lighter than vanity in comparison witli thera. But the moment you believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, God puts the Name on the other side of the scales, and immediately down comes the balance on the side of life, and from that moment it is definitely and unchangeably determined that you shall never die. His name has boundless influence in heaven. It decides everything there. He knows it well Himself, and tells it us for our comfort. " Whatsoever ye ask the Father in My name, I will do it." You have many things to ask for, but first of all ask for your life, in His name, and as sure as God is sitting on His throne, and Christ on His right hand, you shall have it. God Him- self has ordained that whosoever believeth in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life. 2. There is power in His name to restore life to the dead. He is the Fountain of life. " God created all things by Jesus Christ" " Through Him He made the worlds." " All things were made by Him, and without Him was not anything made that was made." " In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." What was before that ? Can you form any conception ? There is nothing to hear, nothing to see, nothing to touch, for nothing exists. He lives from eternity and lives alone — there is no life save His own. But listen ! A word is at length spoken, and with the word life issues forth, a mighty, swelling river. It divides itself into a myriad streams, streams of life everywhere. There is living grass, there are living trees, living beasts, living rM i I ::-)| )i II! I i 183 LIFE THROUGH THE NAME OF fishes, living fowls, and last of all there is living man. The word flies right and hift through the vast expanse, carrying life with it wherever it goes. When our Lord Jesus was on earth, going about from Galilee to Jerusalem, and back again another way, His steps were always accompanied witli life. Death shrank from His approach, and fled when it heard the sound of His footsteps. Whether it had only begun its work, or was half through, or nearly finislied, it had to stop in a moment when Jesus came near. The palsy had nearly killed one man, but when Jesus spoke it was obliged immediately to go away, taking all the seeds of death which it had sown in the poor man along with it. The leprosy is rotting away another, but when Jesus speaks it is obliged to depart that very instant A woman has been dying for many years, but she touches the hem of His garment, and finds enough life there to drive death from her constitution. The voice of Jesus strikes against the dead drum of a dead man's ear, and in a moment he is a living man. All these things are only emblems of that which is infinitely greater. He gave these instances of His power over the woild of matter to enable us to under- stand and to realise the power that His name has over all things in the world of spirits. The sins that kill the soul can no more withstand contact with Him than the diseases which kill the body : " The first man Adam was made a living soul, the last Adam was made a quickening spirit." Sin kills. The sinner dies. Human means might be found to polish him on the outside, but that answers little purpose while death is progressing THE SON OP GOD. 183 within him. The great question is — How to stop the death ? There is only one way — by believing in the name of the Son of God. The first contact of faith with Christ at once arrests the ravages of death. You know, my brethren, that this is true. You know that since you saw tlie glory of Christ, and felt the power of His name, sins are withering within you that were rampant before, and graces flourishing within you that were dead before. Faith brings us into union with Christ. We are made partakers of His Spirit — of His life. He is the Head, and we are members of His body. He is the vine, and we are the branches. It is the same life in the members as in the Head, in the branches as in the vine, in Christians as in Christ. The same princi[)les which govern Christ throughout the whole of His grand history govern all their life. What is it that moves them to do battle with sin ? It is that which moved Him to condemn sin in the flesh. What in Juces them to do all the good they can to others ? It is that which induced Him to "o about doing good, and eventually to give His life a ransom for many. What makes them submissive to the will of God in sufferings and tribulations ? It is that which enabled Him, in far deeper sorrows, to say — "Not My will, but Thine be done." If your religion allows you to act independently of Christ, you have only the form of godliness. True religion is the life of Christ. And it is eternal life. Virtue is immortal. Goodness lives for ever. It is a mistake to regard everlasting life as something to be received hereafter. It is the perpetuation and the perfection of that which begins in rm V.U > It'll i84 LIFE THROUGH THE NAME OP THE SOP^. this world. The ancisnt heathen dreamed of a cup of immortality and a fount of perpetual youth. Tliey thought that, if they could but find it and drink of it, they should live forever, and be forever young. But it was so difficult to find, and if found, almost impossible to approach, for the gods desired to keep it to them- selves, and had put dragons and demons to guard it lest man should come near. This is the cup of immortality — this the fount of perpetual youth — the name of His Son. And, thanks be unto God, it is open to us all. No dragons nor demons are placed here to keep us away. You are welcome to drink to your soul's content. " The Spirit and the bride say. Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely." This then, my friends, is what I have to say unto you as I close, and glad and thankful I am that I am permitted to say it — Come, drink, and live for ever through His name. i ( 185 ) THE FAITH OF TH F CHURCH. BY THE REV. JAMES OWEN, SWANSEA. " Nevertheless when the Son of Man cometh, shall He find faith on the earth 1 " — St. Luke xviii. 8. This is the question which our Lord asks at the close of the parable of the unjust Judge and the Widow — a parable which, as Matthew Henry says, "has its key hanging at the door." " He spake a parable unto them to this end, that men ought always to pray and not to faint." In the preceding chapter He has been speaking of the " revelation " of the Son of man, and of a sudden and terrible judgment that would befall men. His prophecies were not guesses ; but the future was to Him like an open book. He was not merely quick to note the tendencies of certain deeds or courses of action ; but He was already looking upon the results, the fruit, the autumn of a man's life or a nation's history. And as the words of doom fell from His lips, the disciples asked Him, " Where, Lord ? " " Where, and on whom is this judgment to come?" "And He said unto them, Where- soever the body is, thither will the eagles be gathered together." As the carcase everywhere attracts the eagles, or, more correctly, the mdtures, so do moral' corruption and ripened guilt everywhere demand the \ (1' ill i;i. 1 86 THE FAITH OP THE CHUkCH. judgment. As if Christ had said, You need not inqui -^ where, or when, or how, or on whom the judi^ment will take place ; but remember, wherever death is, wherever corruption is, thither must the vultures come. Life, then, is the only security against this judg- ment. If we are found among the living, the vultures will pass us by ; they will hover far above us ; they will not attack life. And the best evidence of spiritual life is communion with God. To live always, men ought always to pray. Life is the only condition of escape from the coming doom ; and the great condition of life is fellowship with the Eternal. " And He spake a parable unto them to this end, that men ought always to pray, and not to faint ; saying, There \. as in a city a judge which feared not God, neither regarded man ; and there was a widow in that city ; and she came unto him, saying, Avenge me of mine adversary," — do me justice, — " and he would not for a while : " but she did not give up ; though repulsed, she came again and again and again ; and at last he said, " Well, she will not take 'No' for an answer, her complaints have become unbearable. Though I fear not God, nor regard man" (a terrible thing for a man to say of himself), "yet because this widow troubleth me, I will avenge her, lest by her continual coming she weary me. And the Lord said, Hear what the unjust judge saith ; and shall not God avenge His own elect which cry day and night unto Him, though He bear long with them ? " that is, with the "elect" crying unto Him, or, as some prefer, with the adversaries, exercising longsuffering towards them, and delaying the triumphant deliverance of the THE FAITH OF THE CHURCH. 187 Church. **I tell you that He will avenge them speedily." And then comes this question — a question that seems to cast a gloom over the future, and to suggest a doubt in regard to the prospects of the Church. We are accustomed to think of a coming era of riyht- eousness and peace upon the earth, when one shall have no need " to say to another, Know the Lord ; but when all shall know Him, from the least to the greatest." We are accustomed to pray for the advent of that era. And there are promises and prophecies that direct and encourage us thus to pray. Now this question sounds like a discordant note, and seems to discredit the pro- phecies of the Scriptures and the expectations of the Church. It appears strange, as if there were some doubt as to the perpetuity of faith on the earth. How siiall we understand it ? Well, mark, this coming of the Son of Man does not mean necessarily, or at any rate exclusively, His last coming to judgment. The words may be applied to, and Christ probably meant, any coming of the Son of man. And some have para- phrased the text, " When the Son of man cometh in the dcstt'uction of Jerusalem, shall He find laith in the land — the land of Israel ? " But the words should not be restricted to that; for we may speak of any revolu- tion, any crisis in the history of the individual, or a family, or a Church, or a nation, as a coming of the Son of man. And the faith spoken of here is a faith like that of the widow, that perseveres, that does not give up. We might render it, " Shall He find this faith, or such faith on the ei.rtii ? " — the faith that can wait though the deliverance is delayed. The question does m t88 THE FAITH OF THE CHURCH. not suggest the probable extinction of all faith in the world, but the possible weakening of that faith which is illustrated in the parable, the faith of unwearied prayer, the faith of patient waiting, the faith that still grasps and clings to its object when succour is delayed. " Nevertheless when the Son of man cometh, shall He find this faith on the earth ? " Let us consider, then, the importance attached by Christ to the faith of His people, and, although the faith of the Church is tried by the delay of the deliverance, the abundant reasons why it should hold on. I. The importance attached by Christ to the faith of His people. The form of the question implies this. " Shall He find faith ? " He will be looking for it ; He will be searching for it, as a man looking for some valuable treasure ; searching for it, because the discovery is important. He rejoiced to fnd it in the Koman centurion, ** I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel." He rejoiced to find it in the woman of Canaan, and in the timid one who touched the fringe of His robe ir the crowd. The faith of the Church is important, because it is at the root of all Christian activity and zeal. There has never been a great enterprise undertaken and carried on without faith, faith in its practicableness, in its import- ance, and in its ultimate success. And in the Church religious faith lies at the root of all helpful activity. Without it, the hand is paralysed, the tongue is fettered, the affections are deadened, there is a chill in the whole spiritual nature. It is true tliat in the absence of a THE FAITH OF THE CHURCH. 189 strong faith there may be a great deal of some kind of religious work going on ; as a locomotive engine may, by the force already given it, travel for a long distance when the steam has been shut off. The minister may go through his routine of service, the Sunday-school teacher may go to his class, the tract-distributor may go round his district, the members of congregations may engage in the work they have been accustomed to do, and may contribute what they have been accustomed to contri- bute ; but the service will be of little value without this inspiring and informing faith. James in his epistle proves that " faith without works is dead ; " and we may also say that works without faith are dead. When the measure of the work of the Christian Church exceeds the measure of its faith, then it is valueless work, work that cannot abide, that must perish with the wood and hay and stubble, when the fire shall try every man's work of what sort it is. I believe that all the great religious move- ments in Christendom originated in the impulses of Christian hearts. They were not the result of logic, but the outcome of hearts on fire. The leaders in those movements felt a great deal more than they rea- soned about the enterprises on which they embarked. But then those religious feelings sprang from religious principles. It was not mere feeling, mere emotion, an evanescent zeal that is up to " fever- heat " one week, and the next down to zero; that is one day shouting "Hosanna!" and the next silent, and even frowning upon those who continue the strain. Let us have all the beautiful blossoms of generous impulse, but let them spring from the root of Chrir'lan faith. Without this if ■" " i i ■ * I go THE FAITH OF THE CHURCH. the Church is powerless; but where this is, it will express itself in speech and in action. " Necessity is laid upon me, " said Paul ; " yea, woe unto me if I preach not the Gospel." He could not help himself. And you might as well tell the sun not to shine, or the rivers not to flow, or the mother not to kiss her babe, as tell the soul inspired by a living faith not to speak. " How sure it is That if we say a true word, instantly "We fei'l 'tis God's, not ours, and pass it on ; Like bread at sacrament, we taste and pass." And if we would have more apostolic enterprise and zeal in the Church of the present day, then its faith must be increased, its grasp must be firmer, its trust in Christ and His Word must be more simple and complete. Doubt is the grave of zeal ; for zeal implies convictions, not vague, slippery notions, or opinions resting on the surface of the nature, but deep, living, strong convictions. The hindrances that terrify and dishearten the dis- trustful spirit are but a stimulus to faith. The word " impossible " is not admitted into the dialect of faith. Doubt trembles before obstacles, but faith cries, " Who art thou, great mountain ? Before Zerubbabel thou shalt be made a plain." It not only awakens and stimulates our own energy, but it is also the element in which the energy of God delights to exert itself. When the atmosphere is vitiated, and the oxygen in it is almost exhausted, then life and light are threatened with extinction. And the atmosphere of a Church may be so corrupted and poisoned by unbelief, indolence, THE FAITH OF THE CHURCH. 191 self-sufficiency, and worldliness, that the fire of God's Spirit is extinguished. We are prone to rest in the seen and palpable, to walk by sight, not by faith, to depend on numbers and organisations, and plans, and societies, on human power, and wealth, and eloquence, and social influence. These are important, but faith looks beyond these — looks beyond the curtain of the material, and sees the guiding hand of Providence, the kingship of Christ, the power of the Spirit. There on the one side is the fuluess of energy in God— ^a fulness which, notwithstanding the streams that have flowed from it, is undiminished, the great fulness, the inex- haustible fulness, the Atlantic of gracious power. Here on the other side is the Christian Church, often weak, despondent, discouraged, and trembling for the ark of God, looking with blanched face upon the difficulties, counting its five barley loaves and two fishes, and ciying, " It is not enough," perplexed by the greatness of its opportunities, unprepared to enter the " open door " because of the " many adversaries," ready, like John Mark, to show the white feather and turn back. How can that Divine energy on the one hand come down to the Church on the other hand ? Faith is the conductor that will convey the fire from the clouds of God. Faith is the channel along which the stream of power will flow down. And as the little spring on the mountain- side may say, " My sufficiency is from the ocean ; " as the little child, burdened with no anxious thought, may say, " My sufficiency is from my father," — so we, in our feebleness and poverty, can say, " Our sufficiency is from God," Let us drink of this fountain, Do not bring lilt I I 11 i :l ( 200 ) RELIGIOUS DIFFICULTIES, BY THE REV. PRINCIPAL JAYNE, ST. DAVID's COLLEGE, * LAMPETER. " Clouds and darkness are round about Him ; righteousness and judgment are the habitation of Tiis seat" — Ps. xcvii. 2. The Church of Christ, we all know, claims to be in pos- session of the Gospel — of that good news from the far country of the unseen and spiritual world which to per- plexed and travel-stained humanity should be " as cold water to the thirsty soul." Such is the claim ; but is the claim any longer allow- able ? Does the heart of man — even of religious and church-going man — any longer yield it that response and acknowledgment which for long centuries it has undoubtedly possessed ? Are there no symptoms among us of a deep-seated, conscientious, and reluctant convic- tion that the so-called glad tidings of Christ — at least in the shape in which it is too often presented to our minds and feelings — deserves rather to be termed the death-knell of the best hopes of and for t'le human race both in this world and — if there be one — in the world to come ? It would be idle, brethren, to deny that such convic- tions are abroad and in the air. It would be dishonest 11.1 1 RELIGIOUS DIFFICULTIES. 20I to refuse to admit that Christian teachers have sometimes gone far towards the provocation and justification of such apparently antichristian ideas. Treatment of a different kind is surely required, and I shall therefore attempt this morning, in the first place, to exhibit and trace to one of their chief sources the doubts and misgivings to which I have alluded ; and, next, to show that the Bible and the Church of Christ supply, not indeed a complete solution of tliose difficulties, but some clear and steady rays of light upon their darker aspects, and sufficient encourage- ment to sustain the heart and mind of man through the work of life and in contemplation of what lies beyond th grave and behind the veil. Now these misgivings — these antipathies, as they too often unhappily become — are not the outcome of any collision between science and religion. They are not, primarily at least, intellectual ; they are moral and sympathetic; springing largely from that better self to which our Lord himself appealed as to an authority whose opinion is of weight and value. They are the most dangerous and radical of all religious difficulties, because they touch what Bishop Butler — in a sentence which should never be forgotten — has told us is " the foun- dation of religion " — the character of God. Yes, breth- ren, if we can bring ourselves frankly and steadily to face the facts which lie abundantly within our reach — if we will but try to disccvn the convictions and feelings which, consciously or unconsciously, are working in the hearts not only of those who are openly alienated I'rom religion, but of some whom we should rank high for their virtues and graces — we shall assun-dlv lie constrained to c]s about the risen body of our Lord. " Why," said Jesus to His terrified and affrighted disciples, "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." Again the hope of St. Paul is for the redeinption of the body, and, tliinking of his cliildren in the faith, he prays that their whole spirit and soul and body may be preserved blame- less unto the coming of Christ. The Christian's body, he teaches, is a temple of the Holy Ghost; and in that great passage in 4th Ephesians, where he is dilating on ii" ■' H ii >;: i I 310 RELIGIOUS DIFFICULTIES. the gifts which the triumphant and ascended Lord pro- cured for His Church, ho tolls us that " He gave some as apostles . . . till we all come . . . unto a perfect man." This, brethren, is the grand object and ambition of Christ and of His ministers, lay as well as clerical, — the restoration, the purification, the development, the perfec- tion of manhood in its entirety — a work to be begun here on earth and carried forward in the power of Christ's mighty and ever-present Spirit with all vigour and variety and good courage (for do we not pray, "Thy kingdom come"?), but to be consummated in God's immediate presence hereafter. And remembering all this, is it not the high privilege of the Christian to believe in his heart and to chant forth with his lips, as none else can believe and express, that noble and inspiring article of the world's unformulated creed, / believe in Man ! To one more star in the constellation of hope and encouragement I will briefly call your attention. With calm and steady effulgence it casts light upon the mystery which hangs over the destiny of the human race — especially of the darkly-sinning, darkly-suffering multitudes in Christendom and heathendom, about whom the heart of every true Christian must be so sorely perplexed. God, my brethren, if He is anything at all, is a just God — a God of fair-play. "Clouds and darkness are round about Him, but righteousness and judgment are the habitation of His seat." Nature and the course of the world would not alone teach us — at least not tench us distinctly — this indispensable truth. They can tell us RELIGIOUS DIFFICULTIES. tit of lenng of Uio l)('f,Mniiinj^s of a just and ri^liteous government of th(! woild. Their evidence, on the wliole, is upon this side. l>iit they liave something considca'able to say aijaiiifit as well as /or. We must go to Holy Scripture if we would hear the doctrine j)rocliUined in clear and unfaltering accents. We must listen to the Father of the Faithful as lie makes his sublime appeal to the justice of the Most High — " Sliall not the Judi^e of all the earth do right?" We must turn to the Psalms as again and again they chant forth the same glorious theme — " Let the floods clap their hands, and let the hills be joyful together before the Loid; for He is come to judge the earth. With righteousness shall He judge the world, and the ] eople with equity." There are passage.^, I know, which, read too literally and without recollection of the conditions and circumstances under which they were spoken or written, might seem to teach a different lesson. But in the overwhelming majority of instances every book, every page of both Testaments, sets its seal to the same solemn and yet consoling thought Revelation thus stamps with its emphatic approval the best instincts and anticipations of the heart and con- science of man. You will notice, brethren, that I have taken my stand upon what may be called the sterner side of the character and attributes of God. I have left in reserve those cognate truths that " God is love," that " His mercy endureth for ever " and " is over all His works," that He is our Father and our Friend. I have contented myself with a minimum, I bav© ' ' m i i ■ '■ ^ 1 '•1 !ll|l II 212 RELIGIOUS DIFFICULTIES. taken one of God's sternest attributes, and yet even this is found to be full of peace and encouragement. There are some, I know, upon whose ears the mention of God's jiistice will fall with a chill and discouraging sound. They are conscious that they and their fellows are sinful. They know that God hates and that His laws mur-t punish sin. To say then that God is just is in their eyes to describe Him — if I may venture upon the expression — as wearing an eternal black-cap. Their idea of justice is practically derived from the prison and the police-court. But the justice, the righteous judgment of Scripture and of man's best reason, is something wider, profounder, more exquisitely perfect than this. It implies that the destinies of the human race and of every single individual are in the hands of One who knows all, who will in the long run and ultimately deal with every one of His creatures in accordance with the dictates of flaw- less equity and fair-play. His punishments and His rewards will alike be meted out in the scales of unerring and unimpeachable Justice ; they will be found means towards the best and most righteous of ends. Our human judgments and awards are, we know, too often but rough-hewn and imperfect : though even we, in fair- ness let it be said, are striving constantly and not unsuc- cessfully to rectify these rudenesses and shortcomings. Shall man be more just than His Maker ? Shall the human conscience be sensitively eager for equity, and shall God be callous and unfair ? Nay rather, let us be sure that as the Creator at the beginning beheld His own handiwork and pronounced it " very good," so when, kELIGIOUS DIFFICULTIES. 21.^ in the clear light of the world beyond the grave, the con- science and reason and heart of man shall be able really to appreciate and understand the verdicts which issue and have issued from the Great "VYhite Throne, they will in deepest awe and acquiescence and admiration pro- nounce them "Very Good." n irmg I ' ri Mi ..I •I! i , ( 214 ) THE CORN OF WHEAT DYING. BY THE REV. D. HOWELL, VICAR OF WREXHAM. "Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone > but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit."— St. John xii. 24. A "CORN of wheat" — how small — how insignificant! And yet what a mystery is contained in it ! A little child may hold it on the palm of its tiny hand; and yet not all the science and philosophy of this world could produce it ! The production of even a single " corn of wheat'' depends on the strict preservation of all the great laws and influences of our own and of other worlds ; for if even one of these laws, that of gravitation for in- stance, were interfered with, tlie sun would cease to shine upon us, the rain would refuse to descend, the moisture of the earth would be dried up, and all vegetable and animal life would sicken and die. Such are the forces engaged in the production of a single " corn of wheat." In the text we have our Lord teaching, from a kind of object-lesson, one of the profoundest truths of God's moral government. Some will have it that the words were spoken on the day of His triumphal entry into Jerusalem — others the day after. In any case, our Lord's disciples were probably excited by the enthusiasm with '/H£ COkN OP WHEAT DYINO. ^n which He was accompanied into the holy city, and their old expectations of a reigning and conquering Messiah had doubtless once more been stirred up within them. Our Lord, knowing their thoughts, with inimitable wisdom and tenderness reminds them of His approaching death and departure from them. And He does this by an appeal to a fact in nature familiar to them all. " Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone ; but if it die, it bringelh forth much fruit." The great truth which is here declared is this : that life comes through death, and that humiliation is the con- dition of exaltation. Again and again had our Lord given expression to this same truth ; but the disciples were slow of heart to apprehend it. For three years had they been in close fellowship with Him, and He had become the very life of their life. Day by day had they been drinking in from His Divine lips the great truths of the new dispensation. They had lived, as it were, in a blissful dream, miracles and parables flowing in upon them day after day, so that they hardly had a thought of their own. And now, when their hopes stood highest, He tells them mysteriously, that " Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone." In other words, that except He die, the grand purpose of His mission to this world would and could not be accomplished; but that, if He died, tnere would be a rich harvest of redeemed souls. Was it to be wondered at that the disciples should be perplexed and bewildered by such a declaration ? And is it not so still with not a few disciples in our own day ? Notwithstanding that we stand on the vantago-ground of more than eighteen i;i I wr V.l 4 i|i •.if 2t6 THE CORN OP WHEAT DYING, hundred years of Christian history, this truth is still a stumblingblock to many — viz., that life conies thiough death, and that humiliation is the condition of exaltation. But it is so. For — Of what use is the corn of wheat except it die ? In itself it is almost useless. It would hardly supply a meal for the smallest bird or the tiniest insect. Put it in a golden casket, and of what use will it be ? True, it is a thing of beauty in itself, so perfectly sliaped and so exquisitely formed. Still it is practically worthless so long as it is kept " alone." But place it in the earth, where the sunshine and the showers may reach it, and who can tell what may not come out of it ! We have all read of the corn of wheat which was found hermeti- cally sealed in the hand of an Egyptian mummy, and how it was taken out and planted in a suitable soil, and, notwithstanding that it was more than two thousand years old, how it sprouted, and grew, and multiplied itself, until, after a while, it supplied seed-corn for thousands of acres. The germ of life was in it still, and it soon multiplied itself a millionfold. And was it not so with Him who compared Himself to a " corn of wheat " ? The disciples would have wished to keep the corn of wheat to themselves. They shuddered at the thought of seeing it put into the ground. Peter went even so far as to rebuke His Master for suggesting such a thing as possible. Peter would have kept the corn of wheat "alone." A suffering and a dying Messiah was a thing repugnant to his thoughts. The mere earthly life of our Lord was indeed in itself most inestimably precious. Never had anything like it rnncouN op whbat dying. iif been seen in this world. It was like a ray of light piercing the darkness of a dungeon. It was a thing of perfect purity and beauty in the midst of almost universal depravity and deformity. It was a revelation of God in itself, even if not a single parable had ever been spoken, or a single miracle had ever been performed. Ttill, His wonderful life, if it stood " alone," would only have been a kind of angel's visit. It would have supplied the race with an ideal of the perfect humanity. It would have supplied mankind with a pattern, but a pattern beyond the reach of imitation. And this might well have filled the race with despair. At best the influence of the life would have been local and temporary. It would nearly have ended with those who had felt the charm of it. What mankind needed was not only a model, but an adequate motive-power, and this the mere life did not supply, so that it was the death of the " corn of wheat " that really gave it its most inestimable worth. Not only so, but " except it died," how could it multiply itself? Place a corn of wheat among the Eegalia of the realm, and it will remain " alone." But place it in a suitable soil, at a suitable season, and it will multiply itself thirty, sixty, perhaps a hundredfold. So with our Lord. It was His death that made the Gospel the power of God unto salvation. Other lives have excited human admiration — such as those of Socrates, Marcus Aurelius, and others. But until then an instance of a perfect life voluntarily surrendered for the welfare of others, the world had never seen. Not only so, but far more than this was there in the death of Christ. True, that death was the sublimest instance of self-sacrifice which the ■^ ■ ', J Ift \ *-■ ■ ■■;i ,»c ■ \ r t i 1 i ■ M \ ; i I j ; , ■; 1 ) ! j 2liJ The corn of wheat dyino !l I i'l U! world had ever seen. It was the noblest type of martyr- dom for truth and right ever presented to the human race. It was the most affecting instance of purity and innocence falling a victim to human prejudice, bigotry, and brutality that ever darkened the pages of this world's history. But it was more than this — far more than all this. What saiJ He Himself of Him- self ? " The Son of man came to give His life a ransom for many." What said the Holy Ghost of Him by the pen of inspiration ? " Who gave Himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time." "A ransom" — we know what a ransom means. We know that it means an equivalent or satisfaction for a thing forfeited or lost. And both the Old and New Testament Scriptures are brimful of this great truth. More than eight hundred years before o"r Lord's advent it was told of Him that He should " pour out His soul unto death," and " bear the sin of many." And when the great tragedy of Calvary had taken place, it was said that " His own self bear our sins in His own body upon the tree." And when the beloved apostle assures us that " God is love," he immediately adds that the evidence of this love is found in the fact that He " sent Hk, Son to be the pro- pitiation for our sins." And in all these statements the death of our Lord is set forth as the pivot of the great work of redemption. It is the soul and centre of the mysterious transaction. And it is worthy of particular observation, that in proportion as men have grasped this truth of the death of Christ in its sacrificial and pro- pitiatory character as the great fundamental truth of the Christian faith and of personal salvation, in that pro- Hi THE CORN OF WHEAT DYING. 219 portion have they reproduced the character of Christ, and become a livinj^ power for good in the world. It was the preaching of the crucified Christ that pricked to the heart thousands on the Day of Pentecost; and it is this same truth which has ever since been the very life-blood of the Church. It was not the life but the death cf Christ that multiplied Him a thousandfold. It was the corn of wheat dying which has ever since been multiplying itself, until almost every corner of the known world is fast becoming a harvest-field for Christ, from which " He shall see of the travail of His soul and be satisfied." Moreover, it is by the death of the " corn of wheat " that we have hope and promise of a more glorious body by and by. What a contrast between tlie corn of wheat after it has beeu sown a month or two, and the green and beautiful blade which we see adorning the earth in spring ! Turn up the earth in a month or so after the seed has been sown, and what do you find but a black and mouldy mass, with death written in every particle of it. But go to the same spot in the early days of April, or, better still, on the morning of the reaping-day, and can any contrast be greater ? So was it with Him who is symbolised in the text as a "corn of wheat." What was said of Him but that " His visage was so marred more than any man, and His form more than the sons of men ? " There is a tradition that in the latter period of His earthly career our Lord looked like one prematurely old, so bowed down was He by all He had endured. And can we ever forget the day when the " corn of wheat " actually fell to the uround and died ? m ill 220 THE CORN OF WHEAT DYING. " See from His head, His hands, His feet, Sorrow and love flow mingling down : Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown ? " See the mad mob of Jerusalem foaming with rage around His cross ; and hear that cry of unspeakable anguish — " My God, My God, wliy hast Thou forsaken Me ? '" What is it that is taking place but the corn of v/heat falh'ng into the ground and dying ! But in throe days aiterwards we see the green blade appearing, and in forty days we see the ripe ear ascending to the heavenly garner. And will it not be so with the Christian body ? What do we see going on day by day in our town and country graveyards ? What mean those deep dark furrows in th^ bosom of the earth ? What mean those weeping groups, and those convulsive sobs of sorrow ? Simply that the " corn of wheat " is put into the ground. What has become of those whose faces were once so familiar to us in our home and in the house of God ? Where are those who once were almost a part of ourselves — those in whom our souls delighted — the light of our dwellings, the joy of our hearts ? Where are they ? They are sown — sown in weakness, decay, and death — but they shall rise again ! Is it possible ? And " with what body shuU they conie ? Thou fool, that which tliou sowest is not quickened except it die. And that which thou sowest, thou sowest not that shall be." Glorious hope ! Sown in corruption — - raised in incorruption ! Sown in dishonour — raised in glory ! Sown in weakness — raised in power ! Sown a natural body — raised a spiritual body ! Blessed prospect ! THE CORN OF WHEA T DYING. 221 i;: 'I Again, it is by the death of the "corn of wheat" that we have hope and promise of the harvest day and the heavenly garner. The "joy of harvest" has in all ages and countries been one of the purest and sweetest of human joys. But there can bo no harvest without a sowing season ; And in the good old days of yore, certain days in the spring of every year, called Jiof/aHin-daijs, were specially observed for the purpose of invoking God's blessing on the seed sown. The good old Christians of former days felt that the sowing time was as important as the reaping time ; and, when rightly understood, the time of sowing is almost as much a season of joy to the husbandman as the time of reaping. And should it not be so to us in a higher sense ? What is death to a man but the gate of life — an event in life — a comma in tlie sentence of life? To die in order to live — to die as a " corn of wheat " dies, to grow up in greater beauty and glory than it ever had before — what is tlicre to shrink from in this ? And yet we are afraid to die. Even Christians shrink from dying ! Why is this ? Something may be said for the dread we have of the pain of dying, something for our natural shrinking from the unseen and unknown, and something more for the ariguish with which we regard a separation from the dearest objects of our affections in this world. Moreover, we have surrounded death with so many pagan emblems and symbols of despair — the inverted torch, the broken colunm, the sable <2arb — that we have almost shut out the light of immortality from the chamber of death ! The primitive Christians used to dress in white garments, and to iiP t 1:i « 222 THE CORN OF WHEAT DYING. I : f Ccarry flowers and palm leaves in their hands in burying their dead, and their service at the grave was of a joyful and triumphant character. And this is the marked characteristic of the Burial Service of our own Church of England — " We give Thee hearty thanks for that it hath pleased Thee to deliver this our brother out of the miseries of this sinful world; beseeching Thee, that it may please Thee, of Thy gracious goodness, shortly to accomplish the number of Thine elect, and to hasten Thy kingdom; that we, with all those that departed in the true faith of Thy holy Name, may have one perfect consummation and bliss, both in boiiy and soul, in Thy eternal and everlasting glory." Alas! how rarely are we able to enter into this sublime strain as we should ! " Absent from the body, present with the Lord," was St. Paul's idea of dying. Ai.d we know how he felt in the Maiiiertine prison, with the headsman's axe as it were hanging over him, and the moment of his martyrdom at hand — " I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is at hand : I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith ; henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, shall give me in that day." This, then, is the conclusion of the whole matter — Death is the condition of our spiritual life in the present and in the future. St. Paul, describing his own experience, says, " I am crucified with Christ : never- theless I live : yet not I, but Christ liveth in me ; and the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave Himself for THE CORN OF WHEAT DYING. 223 me." What do we know of this experience ? Is there a death in our life — a dying daily to the things of time and sense? To this we are pledged from our very Baptism — " being dead unto sin and living unto right- eousness, and being buried with Christ in His death, we may crucify the old man, and utterly abolish the whole body of sin." Is there anything in our experience that answers to this ? Nor must we shrink from the death of sin nnd self at any cost, if we would " bring forth much fruit." To live a life of self-indulgenco in any form — wliether in the higher form of intellectual activity and sesthetic culture, or in the lower form of sensual pleasures — to be occupied mainly with the things of this world — to skim over the surface of life, and to leave the world to struggle and sin on as it mav, while caring only for what we are pleased to call our innocent gratification — such a life is unworthy of our manhood, unworthy of our immortality, unworthy of our dignity as " the redeemed of the Lord." Be it never forgotten that it is only in self-sacrifice from " the constiaining love of Christ" — that it is only in dying daily to all that is base, and mean, and frivolou-, and selfish, and in living for others, supremely for Him who laid down His life for us — that we shall now answer the purpose of our existence here, and be found as a ripe " corn of wheat " ready for the heavenly garner. " I cnme not to be ministered unto, but to minister," was the life motto of our Master Christ. " My meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me, and to finish His work." Blessed Jesus ! fill us with the same spirit, and to Thy grace shall be all the glory ! Aniou, 1 '. i 1 J (■ { ( "4 ) FEEDING THE PEOPLE. BY THE REV. D. WILLIAMS, RECTOR OF LLANDYRNOO, DENBIGHSHIRE. •' So tljey did eat and wore filled."— St. Mark viii. 8. We are conio together to-day to express our grateful recognition of the Divine goodness in the fruitful and well-conditioned harvest which has been so graciously and bountifully vouchsafed to us this year. It is a very riglit and proper thing tliat we should do this. We, so dependent, the frail creatures of an hour; so ignorant of the vast forces of this mysterious universe in which we are placed, and its ceaseless activitiei for good and evil, for the perpetuation and the destruction of life; ignorant of the conditions remote and near of the ripen- ing of one grain of corn, of its myriad enemies in earth and air and water, of how near universal famine we may have been this very year, — we, I say, sliould feel deeply grateful to Almighty God in words of blessing, in deeds of kindness, in charity of heart and mind, for the golden harvest which has just been received for the susteutation, during another year, of ourselves and those dear to us. Let us pray, with a fuller meaning and deeper knowledge of their spiritual and unifying import, " Our Father which FEEDING THE PEOPLE, 225 art in heaven, hallowed bo Tliy name." We are entirely dependent on a power higlier and wiser than ourselves, and in nothing are we taiiglit tliis more fully and clearly than in the harvest-field ; and when we feel there is a l)rovision secured for another year, we cannot but feel grateful, it is the instinctive movement of the human lieart; but the nature, direction, and extent of that grati- tude our Church lias impressed upon us by the frequency she has introduced the account of this miracle into the cycle of her services during the year. It has been finely remarked by those who have traced the operations of the Gospel narratives on the history of the moral forces at work in the moulding and spreading of political principles and Christian practice during the last eighteen hundred years, and on the universal mind of Christendom in religion, in dogma, in philosophy, that the value and influence of any miracle or pamble, and the force they gain in the onward roll of time, depend on the frequency and the setting of the account given of them in the four Gospels. If we find, for instance, a saying or deed of our Lord only once recorded, we may attach to it a certain unit or measure of influence, be that what it may; but if we find the same recorded by two Evangelists, we may take it for granted that it has a twofold value and meaning in developing the thoughts of the Church, and showing the ultimate unity of scientific and revealed truths, and also in cherishing the hopes of suffering and sorrowful hearts in the neces- sary struggles of the spiritual life against sin, despond- ency, and unbelief. Now all the surroundings of this miracle, and the ! 226 FEEDING THE PEOPLE. ii :|ii' detailed record we have of it, — and, by the by, it is the only miracle recorded by the four Evangelists, — show that our blessed Lord attached a peculiar importance to it, as if it were intended to last and grow in spiritual for^e and clearness of teaching for ever, according to the demands of science and politics on the resources of the Church as the repository of divinely revealed truth. Every age gets from Scripture as much teaching as it is capable of receiving and digesting for its good. Every new discovery in nature, and every advancement in moral goodness, bring a fresh meaning out of Scripture, and we find the Bible to be as exhaustless of spiritual as the universe is of scientific truths. And the supposed ir- reconcilableness or incompatibility of the Bible with science is simply due to the ignorant handling of both, and the imperfect appreliension of their respective facts. The minuteness of the description here given has undoubt- edly a practical meaning — manifold meaning for us, for our own age, for every age. We have given us our Lord's conversation with the disciples — His questionings, their replies ; their per- plexities, and His reassurances ; the lad, the basket, the amount of bread and its quality, and number of fishes — barley loaves small, and a few small freshwater fish ; the aspect and actions of Jesus ; the work of the dis- ciples ; the order, the number and arrangement of the multitude ; of whom composed, and the nature of tlie ground upon which they sat ; their complete satisfaction ; the number of baskets which the fragments filled ; by whom collected, and for what reasons. Now we cannot but feel that there is a deep and abiding lesson in all FEEDING THE PEOPLE. 227 this : for the first postulate of inspiration excludes chance and random writing. Again, the account of this miracle is read regularly three times every year in the Services of our Cliurch. On the twenty- filth Sunday after Trinity, when the wheat is sown in the ground ; on the fourth Sunday in Lent, wlien the blade is springing up ; and on the seventh Sunday after Trinity, when the wheat is flowering — these are the critical periods in the life and growth of man's bread ; and how critical they are we often little think. This fact shows that the Clmrch also sets an especial value on this miracle — that our daily bread comes immediately and direct from the hands of God, in a sense analogous to that in which the bread was here multiplied for the nmltitudes in the desert : not at all in the sense and after the manner other fruit and productions of nature come to us. This seems to be the teaching of our Church on " Give us this day our daily bread." But I venture to think, brethren, there is something in our position in relation to the harvest this year, which may be useful for us to consider and meditate upon, to create in our hearts a profounder and truer thankfulness to the All-Giver than if we merely looked at our barns overflowing with corn. We are surrounded by subtle forces and mysterious influences which reach from east to west, from pole to pole, and from world to world throuuhout God's vast kingdom, of which we really know nothing. The condition of being, the sustenlation of life — the complex life of men, and the life of every living thing — depends upon causes so various and remote as? ;■ 5 \\ ■■1 i ; j '^'-■':' 1 ) i t \ ! ■I il (Hill; i 228 FEEDING THE PEOPLE. ! :l 1 { I ill le'llil I! ¥ ■SIlU'' I! iff. •|! II: as to be uttcily beyond the profound erudition of our day. All we know is that the harvest season, ?nd the heat so necessary to the ripening of the corn, are also most favourable to the origination and propagation of deadly diseases, such as typhoid, small-pox, and cholera. It may be that God ha.-> so tempered the year as to ward off from our shore'j death and disease, and yet secure to us the appointed weeks of harvest. How and why are not ours to understand; it is sufficient for us to know that it is so. The miracles of feeding are parables of exhaustless teaching to the Church and the world. The full and fuller explanation only awaits man's greater develop- ment in moral goodness and sanctifi cation ; according to his fitness will be his wisdom. The same spiritual force which quickened the marvellous energies of the primitive Christians and the noble army of the first martyrs, would, if undeveloped, paralyse the progress of our day, though the same truth still is the support of our hopes, and the inspiration of our life's resolutions and moral vigour, as it was of theirs. We know that everything, from the stars of the empyrean to the daffodils that dance on the edge of the lake, cry in a chorus, " At your service." " Here we are, open secrets ; come and look at us, for you were we created, for you ar<3 we perpetuated." And surely this does not exhaust the whole meaning of their being. They are something in themselves and for themselves, for the glory of God, with an ideal and a future to which they tend. And if at the service of man, then that service must be of a threefold character ; for man PEEDING THE PEOPLE. 229 — the whole man, for whom are all things — is not simply body, but soul and spirit. Whatever therefore truly serves man, serves him in his complex being, as subject to the laws of mortality and yet destined to ascend the skies. And very often, in sheer ignorance of ourselves and of our real wants, we ask God to give us those things which make for our hurt. For we often mistake our body and its appetites for our real selves, and God, by withholding the things we crave for, knowing what is best, is leading us on the road to the liighest good. Every miracle of feeding and every harvest bring us to the source of all power and the fountain of all life, and constantly shadow forth a power greater (humanly speak- ing) than God's almightiness — even God's mercy, which is over all His works. What was the power that held the wonder-working power in check as it were ? The dynamical power of working miracles was subservient to Christ's self-devotion and His love of mankind. He was the ideal sufferer of the eternal ages and the divine Saviour of the human race ; and omnipotence was for ever overshadowed by ineffable Love. There is a power in us above nature which controls all forces and makes them work harmoniously, to unfold the rose, the daffodil, und the daisy, and lines the hedgerows and covers the mountain sides with forms of unutterable beauty and loveliness, and fills our valleys with corn so that they laugh and sing. So also in the Gospels. He, the most innocent and the most mighty, was mocked, persecuted, and rejected because that no amount of ingratitude and hatriid on the part of His enemies could cool the ardour H i ' .1 •! I. '!'' jm 230 PHBbtl^G TtiE PEOPLU. iiil 11] of His love. And we also continue in sin because His mercy endureth for ever. Shame upon us ! This is the only miracle which our Lord reminds the disciples of and upbraids them for not under- standing and laying to heart. Why are you so anxious about food, so full of cares about the wants of the body ? " Do not you rememher ? " Do not you re- member ? These words, " do not you remember," appeal to every age, penetrate every department of 'hought and life, and render all of us without an excuse for not " seeking first the kingdom of God and His righteous- ness." We can plough and sow in hope, for the " Do not you remember ? " are the tremorless rocks on which every harvest grows and ripens. What is your memory of forty years and the experience of a hundred genera- tions but the completest verification of these words of our Lord to His forgetful disciples ? I. Now we read that some of our foremost scientists — men of learning and research, and I am not here to say one word against them or their noble labours — have, as it were, if not formally, tacitly agreed to banish God from His own creation. They continually declare we have nothing to do with God. He is the Unknown, and must remain forever Unknowable; we are Agnostics, we know nothing of Him ; He is not the object of our investigations, He has been eliminated from our thoughts, we live without Him ; while at the same time every step in their scientific investigations postulates some unknown force or law of constant action which science has not discovered, but without assuming the eXiStence FEEDING THE PEOPLE. 231 of which they could not advance one step in their researches. Science assumes the Unknown. These scientific men say in effect, with an amount of patronising condescension to the prejudices of theologians, " Well, we may grant you that perhaps God did exist some time, at some inconceivably remote period of which we can know nothing, but He has nought to do with our world now, nor has He ever had as far as we know. Or He may have something to do now with some remote undiscovered planet in the abysmal profundities of space, but He has no part or parcel in the regulation of affairs in our world." This is the tone in which they approach all questions relating to God and the Divine govern- ment. God is alluded to with a suppressed smile at the credulity of the unscientific mind, and Christianity is looked upon as a worn-out creed, to be treated with the consideration due to old age and the amiable weaknesses of many of its still fond ijrofessors. These men write and aiscuss for ever about the " laws of matter," "the development of life," "the descent of man," " the survival of the fittest." These are, I believe, the orthodox terms of modern science, which are intermin- ably repeated by its votaries, and without acknowledging which no man is recognised as possessing a scientific mind. Now this is not the proper time nor place to enter at any length into their discussions, but we may just sum- marise in a few words the net results of the develop- ment theory as applied to the food of man. Our age is pre-eminent for investigatng the origin of all things — not only what we are, but how came we to be what we are. \n i:!'H t ■ 1 tl t ft 232! FEEDING THE PEOPLE. Within the last ten years especial investigations have been directed to the origin and growth of corn. I cannot now indicate the course and scope of these researches more than to say that we have two ways of prosecuting the inquiry — by the records of history, and by the deposits of geology. And their teachings in fine amount to this. Wheat has never been found in a wild state in any country in the world, nor in any age. It has no development, no descent. It has always been found under the same conditions as it is now — always under the care and cultivation of man — never existed where man did not cultivate it. Moreover, it has never been found in a fossil state. So, if we hearken to the teachings of geology, man existed long before his staff of life. The most minute investi- gations into the origin of wheat have failed to find it under any conditions in the least different from what it is with us to day. The oldest grain of wheat in the world is in the British Museum, and this has been microscopically examined and subjected to the most searching analysis, but it is found to be in all respects exactly the same as the wheat you secured a fortnight ago in this parish in the Vale of Clwyd. So there has been no development within the records of history, and it has no existence in the deposits of geology. Again : the power and the means of perpetuating its own existence have been given to every living and grow- ing thing, animal and vegetable, and this is carried on from age to age, without any interference on the part of man. The only great exception to this grand and bene- ficent law is the corn — the food of man. A crop of FEEDING THE PEOPLE. 233 wheat left to itself, in any latitude or country, would, in the third or fourth year of its first planting, entirely disappear. It has no power to master its surrounding difficulties so as to become self-perpetuating. Thus it does not come under the law of the " survival of the fittest." And what is still more singular — we have never more than a sufficient supply for some fourteen months or thereabouts, even after the most bountiful harvest, and it has been calculated that we are often within a week of universal starvation should one harvest totally fail. And how near this awful catastrophe we may have been this year even, God only knows. A shade too much, or a shade too little ; and oh how little, and it might have been ! And science informs us that the wheat has untold millions of enemies peculiar to itself. And no wonder it is a matter of universal rejoicings when another harvest has been secured, and the farmer's anxious labours have been crowned with success. And no wonder either that our Church, which is so careful of the spiritual growth of her children, should ask us to read in a solemn manner from the Holy lable, with its sacred and mvsterious associations, the account of this miracle three times a year, to strengthen our faith and add earnestness to our prayers at those critical periods in the life of the wheat, and to deepen our gratitude every harvest-home. The Cliurch throughout the ages has taught us to consider that our bread comes direct from the hands of God, and, strange to say, the la^^est science teaches us the same thing. " Nevertheless, He left not Himself without witness, in that He did good, and gave t t II' I II U' 1 -I t ; I 19 I II 234 PBEDING THE PEOPLE. us rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and gladness." " While the earth remaineth, seed time and harvest, and cold ard heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease." " But seek ve first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, nd fill th 'se things shall be added unto you." 'J\^:^i!>Q jiiUiT^r:' 3, my brethren, are the tremorless foundations '1 wltieJi the everlasting hills are built; they are the only and svi-i 'ient guarantee that we need not fear any failure of the recurring seasons. It is because " the mercy of God endureth for ever." II. Man must work. "By the sweat of thy brow thou must eat thy bread." This is the condition of progressive and advanced life — of all civilised communities. The redemptive law of a fallen world ; corrective and punitive in one. And more so of Christendom than of heathen lands. It is the law of nature, but the motto of the Christian. The more Christian and the more civilised a nation is, the more completely subject to this law it becomes. To the redeemed it is the law of liberty. And when Duty becomes the inspiration of a person or of a nation, then they are on the high road to the highest eminence of which a human being is capable. And what a blessed condition and wise provision it is ! Under what law of existence a sinless race could live and advance in the arts and blessings of peace we can only conjecture, but for a fallen world like ours this law of work, and sweat of brow and mind and heart, is the only condition of preservation as well as of excellence. There is nothing it FEEDING THE PEOPLE. 535 more healthy ior our race than the Gospel of labour. Idleness is oi.e of man's greatest enemies, bodily, mentally, spiritually. It is the ev^my of peace, and happiness, and progress. Man is bound to use the powers with which Heaven has endowed him, or perish. Idle men and Idle nations are doomed to slavery or rapid efface- ment. There is a starvation of body and a starvation of soul. The man who does not work for his daily bread is soon reduced to a degraded condition ; ha in one way or another becomes the slave of him WiO • )rks. The idler is pre-destined to this fate. This * al true of nations. If the consumers exceed the VMOUicers, if the idle men of a country be more numerous than its working men, that country is rapidly rtcsning to national bankruptcy ; and must become the slave of the first energetic nation that will take the trouble to conquer it. This is also true of the intellect. He who is not busy gathering facts and material to cultivate and enrich his own mind, but grows up idle and careless, is soon lowered to the level of the brute, to hew wood and carry water to him whose mind is enriched with the stores of knowledge diligently gathered. And there is nothing which we hear oftener than the unavailing remorse of men who have sunk in the social scale, " that they had idled away the oppoitunitics of youth, the golden and priceless opportunitii'S which were once within their reach, but now gone irrevocably for ever." And in the highest and most solemn sense, he who does not work for the bread of the immortal soul, is in terrible danger of becoming the slave of the devil and a prey to the " worm which dieth not." Prayei-, lonely meditation, devout I'M 'i r * Ill i'-.' It 11 11 ill 236 FEEDING rilE PEOPLE. worship, lioly communion — oh, there is work here, and this also must be done. We must educate our own hearts through deeds of kindness. If he who does not work for the food of tlie body must starve, and he who cultivates not his intellect becomes deijraded, what must be the destiny of him who neglects the means of grace and leaves his poor soul to perish ! From this miracle we learn that man must v^ork, — must do his part ; but he docs not interfere, and if he does, he is sternly rebuked; he can only confess a want, and then obey the injunctions of the Master. " Whatso- ever He saith unto you, do it." Those who were satisfied were not thankful, and they saw not God. And our Lord's explanation and application of the miracle drove them all away. " I am that bread that came down from heaven. It was Myself that satisfied you in the desert My liesh and My blood are meat and drink indeed." They said, " This is a hard saying, who can receive it ? " And it is the same even to-day ; the spiritual application of the divine order and support of our race is not universally acceptable to the human mind. Well, now, God has been very gond to you. He Himself was in that harvest which you have just secured. The communication of His own divine force is the multiplying power of the wheat. Will you humble yourselves in recognition of that goodness by celebrating a Harvest- Home Communion of the body and blood of Christ, and come and kneel at God's altar and receive the bread which He has blessed ? No ; five-sixths of you will rather go out through that door than accept the spiritual teaching of God's unceasing care of you, and you say in your hearts, FEEDING THE PEOPLE. ^37 if not with your lips, "This is a hard saying, who can hear it ? " In these njiracles of feedin ^ ^ V'^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) I > !f Saul and the house of David ; but David waxed stronger and stronger and the house of Saul waxcnl weaker and weaker." So in this war between the mind and the flesh, the mind will wax stronger and stronger and the flesh will wax weaker and weaker. We must also not forget the ground and assurance of this final victory — Jesus Christ. The power that sustains us in the battle comes from Him. Every spark of hatred of sin has been kindled by His love, and every germ of love for and aspiration towards it has been planted by His grace. ,1 i' \i ; :i^: ■ i iir ! . i \ i I'i ( 260 ) SEARCHING FOR GOD. BY TlIK RKV. 1). LLOYD JONES, M.A., LLANDINAM. '•rjiiist, tliou by scardiiiij^ find out (Jod? ("iinst (lioii lind out the Aliiii;,'liJ.V to i»crfocti(>n?"— Jon xi. 7. "And without controversy <,'ioiit i.s tlio niysteiy of godliness : Hod was manifest in the HchIi, ju.stilicd in tlio Spirit, seen of an;4el.s, preached unto the Gentiles, btdieved on in the world, received up into glory."— I Tim. iii. 16. The book in wiiich tlie above questions are to be found is in many respects the most remarkable in the literature of tlie world. It can claim a higher antiquity than the earliest productions of Greece, for we are driven by an overwhelming mass of evidence to place its dale centuries before the time of Homer, Hesiod, and Archilochus ; and there are strong grounds for believing that it was com- posed before any of the so-called " sacred records " of the heathen world. This book of Job bears a favour- able comparison as regards antiquity with the Veda, the Zendavesta, the Tripitaka, and the Koran. Even "the Ivig-Veda, which embodies the early religious concep- tions of the Indo-Aryan race, and which carries us back to a period of from 1000 to at least 1500 B.C.," cannot be proved to have been collected by its reputed com- piler Vyasa before the age of Job. Though eminent European scholars are of opinion that the earliest literary SEAkCHlNG FOR GOD. 261 documents of India cannot be placed fartlior back than 1300 or 1400 n.c, it is generally conceded by the most trustvvortliy critics that tliere is nothing in the book of Job to prove that it M'as not composed as early as " those parts of the rentateuch which appear to belong to tlie patriarchal age." The hypothesis tliat its author lived after the Captivity is given up as untenable. Indeed there are in the contents of the book itself not a few facts which lend a strong colour to the viciw of Eusebius, who (ixes its date at two ages before Moses, or about 1800 B.C. It is not oidy superior to all other books in its antiquity, but also in the importance of its themes, the purity and simplicity of its language, and the sublimity and grandeur of its sentiments. The subjects it dis- cusses are great and profound. It attt'm[)ts to solve the perplexing problems presented to us in the adversity of the virtuous and the prosjxjrity of the wicked. It states men's ideas of Providence in ancient times, in that part of Asia where Job lived (probably the northern part of Arabia Deserta, between Palestine and the Euphrates). It discusses the existence and nature of a Supreme Intelligent Personal God, and His government over the elements and forces of the physical universe as well as over the free-will actions of men. His vivid descriptions of the excellency and majesty of God are so sublime that they have never been surpassed in any literary production ancient or modern. The great question which it attempts to answer is, How are the righteous afllictinl consistently with the justice of God ? or, " Can goodness exist irrespective of \M 262 SHARCUING FOR GOD reward ? Can the fear of God be retained by men when every inducement to sellislmess is taken away ? " or, " Is God a Bein.u' tliat can be loved without any external and adventitious inducements from tlie works of His hands in creation and providence ? " Such was the exalted tlieme which occupied the attention of Job and his friends, and in their treatment of it they show earnestness, grasp of thouglit, clearness, and vigour. The debate is carried on in a poetic form, and only the i)rologuo and the epilogue are written in prose. Each of the friends delivers three speeches, and Job is allowed to reply to each. The chapter in which tlie words of the text are to be found forms the first speech of Zophar, who is in- dignant witli his friends for not overwhelming Job with their arguments, and with Job for venturing to deliver a speech in his own defence in whicli he asserts his innocence. Zophar's spirit was touched, for to him the calamities which had befallen Job constituted an unan- swerable proof of his guilt. "Thou hast said, My doctrine is pure, and I am clean in thine eyes. But oh that God would speak and open His lips against thee, and that He would show thee the secrets of wisdom that they are double to that which is ! Know therefore that God exacteth of thee less than thine iniquity deserveth." Here he implies that Job was not conscious of the sins and iniquities he was guilty of, but that they were well known to God. The Governor of the universe is infinite in knowledge and wisdom, and inflicted a lighter punishment upon the patriarch than his iniquities deserved. Though enveloped in clouds and darkness. He never acts from passion or caprice. The reasons SEARCHING FOR GOD. for thn dispensations of His providence are known unto Himself, but hidden from men. He has His "secrets of wisdom " which we cannot pry into or find out, God's government is so general, complex, and minute; it is incomprehensible and unlathomable to the under- standing of a finite creature. It is beyond the power of our faculties to arrive at an adequate idea of His sovereign wisdom. Be content to be ignciant, for we cannot understand the perfections of the Almighty. Thus Zophar would persuade Job to confess against the testimony of his memory and conscience, that ho was overwhelmed with grievous calamities because he had committed some heinous crimes against Heaven. "Canst thou by searching find out God? Canst thou find out the Almighty unto perfection ? " This century is distinguished by its remarkable pro- gress in the path of physical discoveries, but, strange to say, as our knowledge of the material universe is advancing, there is growing up a system of philosopliy which teaches the impossiliility of attaining any clear and certain knowledge of God and the unseen WDild. In the words of an able writer, " Ignorance of God lias been more commonly regarded as a calamity or a sin. In our days, as is well known, it conies to us in a new form. Ignorance of God is now taught as a necessity of reason. The unknowableness of God has been formulated as a philosophy. It has even been defended as a theology and hallowed as a religion. The sublima- tion of rational piety has been gravely set forth as that blind wonder which comes from the conscious and necessary ignorance of God." Atheistic agnosticism is ihjf , I lii' ill ; 264 SEARCHING FOR GOD. struggling to undermine Christian theism, and the chief point in its creed is that God is a Being " unknown and unknowable." The question it asks and answers in the negative is, " Canst thou by searching find out God ? " The words of the text suggest two observations bearing upon the above subject. *oo^ I. The history of heathen nations proves that man, when left to his own unaided reason, has never been able to attain an adequate knowledge of God as a Personal Holy Being, the Creator and Sustainer of the Universe. Idolatry prevailed in all the countries around Pales- tine in ancient times. Whatever proofs can be advanced in favour of the view that all the Semitic races were originally monotheists, it is beyond doubt that in the course of ages the countries which they inhabited were invaded by an irresistible tide of idolatry and poly- theism. These races, including the Phoenicians, Syrians, Arabians, Moabites, Ammonites, Assyrians, and later Babylonians, worshipped Baal, Adonis, Moloch, Rimnion, Ashtoreth, Chemosh, Asshur, and a host of other false gods. Dualism, or a " belief in two original uncreated principles, a principle of good and a principle of evil," which were also " two real persons possessed of will, intelligence, power, consciousness, and other personal qualities," prevailed in Persia. In Egypt polytheism in its grossest forms prevailed all over the Lmd. It was believed that certain kinds of animals possessed a sacred character, and the masses of the people recognised them as gods and paid unto tliem divine homage. Yea more. !i SEARCHING FOR GOD. 265 it was an important part of their creed that " a deity absohitely became incarnate in an individual animal, and so remained till its death." The natural fruit borne by such religious beliefs was tlie universal prevalence of low and degrading kinds of animal worship. The Greek religion was a worship of Nature. The gods of the Greeks corresponded " to certain parts of the sensible world, or to certain classes of sensible objects compre- hended under abstract notions." The Greek beheld the beautiful and sublime sceneries of nature, the restless activity of physical forces, sky, sun, and stars, — earth, rivers, and oceans, — volcanoes, earthquakes, and storms, and was led by his highly imaginative nature to invest each of them with a personality, if not to worship the invisible powers that produced them. In fact, they personified and worshipped the elements and forces of Nature. Thus when man lost that religion whicli re- vealed unto him the Maker of the universe, lie manu- factured manifold false religions for himself. Almost the same kind of polytheism prevailed in Rome as in Greece. According to Canon Rawlinson, the former was distinguished from the latter only by " its comparatively scanty development of the polytheistic idea in respect of nature and the parts of nature, and its simple develop- ment of that idea in connection with human life, its actions, parts, and pi 1 uses." We cannot even glance at the spiritual condition of the heathen world without being impressed with the remarkable correctness of the picture drawn of it in Holy Writ. " Go in and behold the wicked abominations that they do here," said the Lord to Ezekiel. " So I went in and saw," saith the ! I I t t .' * 'i - 1 ■ ' 1 . ' * ( M I i 266 SEARCHING FOR GOD. prophet; "and behold, every form of creeping things, and abominable beasts, and all the idols of the house of Israel" (borrowed from the Gentiles) "portrayed upon the wall round about." In Persia and Egypt, Greece and Eome, industry and skill, philosophy and science, were utterly impotent to arrive at an adequate knowledge of God as a Personal, Holy Being, the Creator and Sus- tainer of the Universe. " They changed the glory of the uncorruptible God into an image made like to corruptible man, and to birds and four-footed beasts and creeping things. They changed the truth of God into a lie, and worshipped and served the creature more tlian the Creator, who is blessed for ever." When the great Apostle of the Gentiles visited the most distinguished seat of learning in the ancient world — a city whose poets and philosophers, statesmen and orators, have never been surpassed for culture, refinement, and intel- lectual vigour — what did he find as the fruit of centuries of civilisation ? Nothing but an altar bearing an in- scription proclaiming with silent but sad eloquence the failure of man to find out God. " For as I passed by and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription. To the Unknown God." That God alone possessed absolute existence. He filled the universe with His presence. He " made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth," and determined "the bounds of their habitations." "That they should seek the Lord, if happily they might feel after Him, and find Him, though He be not far from every one of us. For in Him we live, move, and have our being." SBAkCHim FOR GOD. 267 This was the spiritual condition of a country which had been more blessed with a large number of men of brilliant talents, refined tastes, and high culture than all other countries in an equal period from the beginning of the world to the present day. After all their profound researches this is the fruit — a gloomy confession upon a deserted altar that these thoughtful philosophers, talented poets, and eloquent orators had failed to find out God. " The world by wisdom knew not God." Scepticism and depravity flourished to an alarming extent in Corinth and Home, the centres of ancient civilisation. In view of the above facts one question which forces itself on our attention and demands an answer is : What barriers stand in the way and render it difficult if not impossible for man to make progress in knowledge of spiritual things ? Since he by the normpl exercise of his faculties can find out the secrets of NatiTre, why can he not attain an adequate knowledge of God ? To this question we shall endeavour to give a pertinent though not an exhaustive answer. Man is not able by means of his own unaided reason to find out God. I. Because God is an immaterial, invisible, spiritual Being, He cannot be perceived through any material mediums. He is not amenable to our bodily senses. A young prophet brought up as a carpenter in an obscure village in the North of Galilee, gave utterance in one ex- pression to a more profound and sublime sentiment regard- ing God than anything to be found in the worlds of the great philosophers: "God is a Spirit; and they that worship Him, must worship Him in Spirit and in truth." We are t. i ':!■ ' . ;;i i • 1 H hi 268 SEARCHING FOR GOD. i I I conscious of the existence of an immaterial, intelligent, free, responsible spirit in ourselves, but it is wedded unto matter. We are under the dominion of matter and its laws. We are influenced by our physical organisation through our appetites and passions ; but God is an infinite Spirit, with an absolute and eternal existence, in no way dependent on the physical and vital forces of the material universe. " Hast thou eyes of flesh, or seest thou as man seeth ? " " Behold, I go forward, but He is not there ; and backward, but I cannot perceive Him. On the left hand, where He doth work, but I cannot behold Him : He hideth Himself on the right hand, that I cannot see Him." " Touching the Almighty, we cannot find Him out." " Thou canst not see My face, for there shall no man see Me and live." Still there is a craving in our finite spirits for the Infinite Spirit of God. He is the invisible source of that mysterious influence which permeates our moral nature, and finds definite expression in the dictates of tlie awakened conscience ; but He is out of the reach of our bodily senses, through which we are able to study the works of His hands. 2. Because the manner in which God is related to the material and spiritual universe, and the mode in which He exercises dominion over them, is an unfathom- able gulf of mystery to us. When we gaze at the stupendous and complex machinery of nature, it strikes us as self-sufficient and self-acting. It is a chain of physical causes and physical effects. There is in it no break, flaw, or gap through which the divine influence can flow in, to produce or even control its operations. SliARCHING FOR GOD. 269 Planets revolve on their axes and fly on their orbits ; the sun pours out from his surface to every inch of space in its vast system a constant flood of light and heat ; water ascends in vapour to the clouds and descends in showers to the earth ; brooks and rivers run inces- santly through deep ravines and wide valleys into the ocean ; the earth turns one hemisphere to the per- pendicular rays of the sun, winter recedes, spring and summer advance. We know the physical causes of all these phenomena. If so, reason exclaims, Where is the hand of God ? The problem becomes still more involved if we accept the theories propounded by Laplace and Darwin. What if the solar system was "evolved by means of natural law from a condition of intensely heated vapour rotating on its axis from east to west precisely similar to that of many nebulous bodies now existing in the universe ? What if man has been evolved in the course of a vast period — a hundred, forty, or ten millions of years — from some past germs of life, wliich appeared on earth when it became sufficiently cool and consolidated to support it ? What if we accept the pedigree of man through twenty- two stages from the Moneron as offered to us by an eminent German naturalist? In such an endless series of causes and effects what link is touched by the finger of God ? Look at the railway locomotive speeding on its way along the rails, but decreasing its speed, and coming to a standstill exactly opposite the station platform. There is no great mystery in the matter, for you can see the hand of the engine-driver upon the lever, and the fireman casting fresh coal into the furnace. Does the 1 i 1 1 ! ( t .■■■,! t ! i: ! 270 SEARCHING FOR GOD. universe consist of nothing but matter and force ? Is it the result of blind chance ? Are we to stop short in our "explanations of phenomena of molecules, and motion, and inertia, and attraction, and heat, and electricity, and heredity, and development, and varia- tion, and environment ? " Reason protests against such an unwarrantable assumption. Even the champion of agnosticism is compelled to admit that man is " ever in the presence of an Infinite and External Energy from which all things proceed." We maintain that the world is drifting towards some grand moral consummation, the victory of justice, freedom, and truth. There is an evident plan unfolded in the course of human history, and what is it but the realisation of the eternal design of the Governor of the Universe who is hidden out of our sight ? His moral attributes reveal themselves in the gradual and irresistible advance of great moral principles. But where is He ? Through what medium does He convey His mysterious energy into the material and spiritual universe ? " He giveth to all life and breath and all things." " In whose hand is the soul of every living thing, and the breath of all mankind." " He is not iar from every one of us ; for in Him we live, move, and have our being." But how are we related to Him? This is a deep abyss of mystery over which we may wonder and adore, but which is utterly beyond the power of reason to fathom its depths. 3. Because God is an incomprehensible Being, infinite in all His attributes, whose nature and perfections our finite understanding cannot measure and exhaust. He is not inconceivable, and not " unthinkable," but He is SEARCHING FOR GOD. 271 incomprehensible. We cannot picture Him before the imagination. We cannot know all about Him and give expression to it in language. We cannot set limits to His duration, presence, wisdom, and power. Still our inability to comprehend Him does not shake our con- viction of His existence, for we perceive Him through our moral nature, and feel His influence upon our souls. It is an axiom which we are compelled to accept by the laws of our mental constitution, that nothing which is changeable and progressive can be eternal. Even reason declares that the universe must have had a beginning; and when its vast stores of energy are dissipated, it must have an end. Look into space, and you feel unable to set limits to it even in imagination. This, however, does not undermine your belief in its existence. Still you ntain an instinctive conviction that space is an indis- pensable condition of the existence of all other things. All realities are " unthinkable " without the conception of space. Lead a peasant to the summit of a cliff above the ocean ; to him the ocean looks boundless and unfathomable ; tell him, that since he cannot comprehend it, see its lowest depths and furthest shore, therefore it does not exist. Will he not answer, Not so, for though I cannot compass it within the range of my bodily vision, it is not unthinkable, for I perceive the extension, form, and colour of its surface ; yea, I hear the beating of its waves on the cliffs beneath. So does man feel some mysterious influences from the ocean of the Divine Existence striking against the tender chords of his moral nature. A blind man may feel the warmth of the sun, and may be certain that there is some external source I t i! ' I K I Mi 272 SEARCHING FOR GOD. from wliich it issues. So may we apprehend Goil, thouL,'h we cannot comprehend Him ; His nature infinitely exceeds the capacities of our finite understanding. "Touching the Ahnighty, we cannot find Him out; He is excellent in power and in judgment, and in plenty of jii3tice." "It is as high as heaven, what canst thou do? deeper than hell, what canst thou know ? The measure thereof is longer tlian the earth and broader than the sea." "Whither sliall 1 go from Thy Spirit? or whither shall I fk'e from Thy Presence ? If I ascend up into heaven, Thou art there ; if I make my bed in hell, beliold Thou art there. If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall Tiiy hand lead me, and Thy right hand shall hold me." Let us be on our guard, in laying hold of the personality of God, that we do not lose sight of His infinitude, and in studying His infinitude tiiat we do not forget His personality. The former is the danger of monotheistic religions, and the latter is the radical defect in pan- theistic creeds. 4. Because God is a Being of the highest moral nature, the root, spring, and centre of all moral excel- lences in the universe. From Him they came, in Him they exist, and to Him as to a boundless ocean they constantly flow. All elements of morality are ultimately traceable to the moral attributes of God. Christian morality is centred in Him ; He is the root from wliich all holiness springs. " Thou art of purer eyes than to behold evil, and canst not look on iniquity." " Behold, He putteth not trust in His saints ; yea, the heavens are not clean in His sight." But we are polluted by sin, SEARCHING FOR GOD. 873 and therefore lack that moral afiinity, without which it is impossible to know Him, for it is an axiom in morality that, in order to see any moral excellence, it is indispen- sable to possess it. The chief barrier on the way of man to make progress in knowledge of God, is the depravity of the heart. Tlius sin and ignorance stand to each other in the relation of cause and effect. " Follow peace with all n n, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord." " Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." Between sin and ignorance of divine things there is action and reaction ; depravity produces infidelity, and infidelity in its turn intensifies the depravity. If we require proofs of this, we need only glance at the moral condition of ancient Rome and motlern France, read the first chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, and the sixth in the First Epistle to the Corin- thians. Still, notwithstanding these obstacles, the human heart is yearning for communion with God. The expe- rience of many thoughtful and virtuous men in the heathen world, as well as that of inspired patriarchs and prophets in Israel, finds accurate expression in such words as these, " Oh that I knew where I might find Him, that I might come even to His seat ! " "I stretch forth my hands unto Thee ; my soul thirsteth after Thee as a thirsty land." " Hear me speedily, Lord, my spirit faileth ; hide not Thy face from me, lest I be like them that go down into the pit." " As the hart panteth for the water-brooks, so panteth my soul for Thee, God; my soul thirsteth for God, for the living God." We are conscious of some intolerable vacancy in our souls, and from this arises a yearning after, an intense & b^ 11 1. I I 274 SEARCHING FOR GOD. longing, yea, a burning thirst for the infinite God. Wliat are these but traces of the foundations of tlie temple of the Godhead in the moral nature of man ? The sea-bird leaves its home, the shore of the ocean, and flapping its large wings it follows tlie course of a mighty river. It travels far inland, and stops not till it has penetrated through a narrow valley into a quiet glen among the mountains. There it aliglits on a roclv or a stone, and listens to the murmuring of the brook in its gravelly bed. May we not fancy that the music of the brook reminds it of the roar of the ocean ? He Ionics to gaze on the boundless sea, then spreads his wings and starts back again. The soul is cramped among visible and finite realities ; it is oppressed by sin in all its narrow, cold, hideous forms ; is it a matter of amazement if it longs to gaze on the infinite, holy God ? Thus many of the great thinkers of the ancient world must be considered as seekers after Him ; but they failed to find Him. II. "When man by his own unaided reason had failed to arrive at an adequate knowledge of Him, God gave a glorious manifestation of Himself in Ids Incarnate Son. " Great is the mystery of godliness, God was manifest in the flesh." Moralists and philosophers among the heathen nations of the world, such as Thales, Anaxagoras, Socrates, and Plato among the Greeks, Zoroaster in Persia, Cicero in Eome, were prompted by the cravings of their moral nature, as well as by the urgent demand of reason, for an adequate explanation of the origin of the universe, to SEARCHING FOR GOD. 375 engage in a search after God. The great and complex machinery of nature was placed before tliem, " that tliey might seek tlie Lord, if liaply they might feel after Him and find Him." Ancient prophets were impelled by their spiritual instincts under the guidance of prophetic inspiration to concentrate their attention upon tliis great theme. They held communion witli an invisible God. About forty years ago there were irregularities observed in the motion of tlie planet Uranus. Astronomers at that time conjectured tliat these were produced by the attraction of some other planet which had never been discovered. A student at Cambridge worked in retire- ment for nearly two years upon the hypothesis of the existence of such an exterior planet. He calculated what must liave been its mass and its distance from the sun in order to account for the perturbation of Uranus. Eight months after, an eminent astronomer in France, Le Verrier, deduced its elements. Strange to say, both arrived at very similar results. On June 1 1, 1845, a Professor in Cambridge commenced a systematic search for it with the large Northumberland telescope, and on the 29th of September an object attracted his attention which proved to be the "object so anxiously sought for." Well may this be called " the most brilliant discovery, the grandest of which astronomy can boast, and one that is destined to a perpetual record in the annals of science — an astonishing '^^oof of the power of the human intellect." But here '\ discovery in the moral and spiritual world which infinitely surpasses it. " Great is the mystery of godliness, God manifest in the flesh." " The Word was made tlesh, and dwelt among us, and we I ' i I 1. I 1 i 76 67:M/v'C7//A'G FOR GOD. beheld His ^^lory, tlie f^lory as of the Only-hegotten of the FfitlicM", full uf grace and truth." When He eiuer^^ed into view in our i)Oor liunian nature, tlie angels of God took a voyage through space and aliglited upon our insignificant globe to gaze upon Him. They crowded tiio atniospliere around tlie lunuMe place of His birth, and burst out singing the joyous words, " Unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord." The wise men from the East, who repre- sented the seekers after God in the heathen world, brought their gifts, gold, frankincense, and myrrh, and fell down before Him and worsliipped Him. Simeon, a fine specimen of the saints of the Old Testament, took Him in his arms and dechircd tliat all the desiies of his soul were I'uliilled. " O Lord, now lettest Tliou thy servant depart in peace according to thy word : for mine eyes have seen thy salvation, which Thou hast prepared before the face of all people." We are justly proud of our modern discoveries. There is no part of the world where British pluck and courage will not carry our sailors and travellers. Scientists solve problems which had bafHed the ingenuity of the greatest thinkers of past ages. One of our intrepid travellers set his heart on discovering the source of the Nile. — He forced his way on through immense difli- culties and dangers, through countries covered with pesti- lential swamps and inhabited by cruel and treacherous savages. One day he beheld a lofty range of mountains at a great distance to the west. He pursued his journey with renewed vigour, and next morning, when the day broke, he crossed a deep valley between the hills and toiled up Sli ARCHING FOR GOD. 277 the opposite slope till he reached tlio summit. Tliero hurst suddenly ui)ou his view the j,'riind prize that had excited the curiosity and ambition of men for aj^es. "There like a. sea of ([uicksilver lay far heneatli the grand expanse of water — a boundless soa horizon on the south and south-west Lditterin;^' in tlie noon-day sun," the mysterious source of the fi-rtili.sinj^ Nile. "This was tlie reservoir wliich nourished K;jyi)t and brouj,'ht fertility wliere all was wilderness," "a sourc«; of bounty and of blessing's to millions of human b('inj,'S." No wonder that the discoverer thanked Heaven for crowning his efforts with such a brilliant success. But what is such a discovery to tiiis ? Rivers of goodness ran for ages through physical mediums into our world, and men naturally asked, Where was tlie great invisible source from which they spiang ? Various theories were pro- pounded as explanations of the mystery, and among them Pantheism, Dualism, and Materialism , but in Buthlehem the great source from which all "good aiul perfect gifts" proceed came into sight — " God manifest in the flesh." This is the only reasonable explanation of the origin of Christianity. The men who testify that they were eye- witnesses of the wonderful works of Christ, — who heard Him rebuking the sea, saying, " Peace, be slill!" and sum- moning a dead man from his grave, saying, " Lazarus, come forth ! " and saw the visible effects ; those who com- muned with Him after His resurrection and watched Him ascending into heaven till " a cloud received Him out of their sight," — these men sealed their testimony with their blood : yea more, they " unhinged this world's history," and produced a moral revolution which is now ii* C « 378 SEARCHING FOR GOD. in progress, the effects of which are increasing in magni- tude and number every day, tending to become universal, and promising well to reach to the end of time. The work accomplished demands an adequate cause, — something infinitely higher and better than myths and legends, or fanaticism and fraud. Human society could never have been so thoroughly regenerated and reformed but through the Incarnation of the Son of God. t • ( 279 ) THE GREAT CONFLICT. BY THE REV. W. JENKINS, M.A., ST. DAVIDS. "Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil witli good," — RoM. xii. 21. lif'i Having expounded the great Christian doctrines in the preceding chapters, the apostle now goes on to lay parti- cular stress on the great Cliristian duties. The doctrines are a good foundation for the duties, and call for a be- coming edifice in the form of a worthy Christian character. Eligible sites of necessity demand corresponding structures. And Paul urges on his readers a life worthy of the grand truths he has already explained. Christian doctrines require corresponding Christian practices. In the former God gives, in the latter He asks ; in the former He works, in the latter He orders us to work. Having given much to us. He is fully justified in asking much from us ; " of him who hath received much, much will be required." God never expects us to make bricks with- out straw ; He nobly helps to meet His own' demands. Ample materials are ready at hand to carry out His will. Though His commandments are great, they are not grievous, if met in the right spirit. God must not be considered a hard master — reaping where He hath not sown, gathering where He hath not strewn. His require- i- I \-\ '. t i^ i ; 'i 3So THE GREAT CONFLICT. ments are calculated to send us to Hi/i for the means necessary to meet them ; rightly understood, they say — " Come unto Me." The calls to perform difficult Christian duties are so many finger-posts pointing to the unsearch- able riches of Christ. The heavy demands made on the new life prove that the great Author Himself has full confidence in it. It is no weak, sickly power, likely to break down under the least strain. God is not afraid of its being put to the severest tension, tested to the utmost, since He well knows its infinite capabilities. High Christian precepts should encourage rather than dis- hearten, inasmuch as they embody God's confession of faith in the new life. This chapter opens with nn. entreaty to complete con- secration in the Divine service. " I beseech you, there- fore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice," &c. Even the body is claimed. The apostle then passes on to duties general and particular. If we start with a complete surrender of ourselves to God, we shall effectively discharge our most difficult duties. Our imperfect performances are doubtless attributable to incomplete consecration. Im- perfections in t.he performance point to reservation in the consecration. Complete surrender of soul and body to God constitutes the best qualification for the accomplish- ment of tiie most difficult tasks. Than this we cannot find a better starting-point for the mighty conflict with evil in its innumerable forms. This complete consecra- tion must not be viewed as a bondage, but rather as the hijihest liberty. Christ binds His people to Himself in order to release them from tyrants. His bondmen are TtiE GREAT CONFLICT. 2§i the true free men. Just as our thoughts are brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ do we enter into true freedom, that of deliverance from evil. To make man a conqueror over evil is one of the main objects of the Gospel of Christ. The Eternal King goes forth with him to tlie campaign against sin. When He visited the Garden of Eden after the Fall, He did not leave it without declaring war against the enemy, and the sound of victory is discernible in the very rhythm of the declaration : " And I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed ; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel." The grace of God having thus entered the field with man against the powers of evil, we are rightly summoned, not only to fight, but to conquer. The Israelites invari- ably conquered when led by Him who is mighty in war. With Him they were invincible, a fact acknowledged even by their enemies ; without Him, wavering and easily routed. And Christians are not asked to war at their own expense or to go forth in their own strength. The conflict is both long and costly, but the resources are amply sufficient to bear all the burden. We can say — "The Lord of hosts is with us." If in a moment of weakness we tremble when confronted with the mighty forces of evil, we may hear, if we listen, an encouraging voice saying, " My grace is sufficient for you ; My strength shall be perfected in your weakness." Under these con- ditions we are justly commanded to overcome. The latter part of the chapter forcibly reminds us of the Sermon on the Mount. " Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but give place unto wrath." " If thine r i ! i : i (1 I ; I i ii 282 ThiE GREAT CONFLICT, enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink.'* " Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good." In these verses we have unmistakable echoes of Christ's words : " Love your enemies ; bless them that curse you ; do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you, and persecute you." Many indisputable proofs are to be found in the apostle's teach- ing that the Person who met him on the way to Damascus was none other than the great Preacher of the Mount. Paul's speech betrays the fact that he has been with Jesus. Although he had not the privilege of sitting with the other apostles at the feet of the great Preacher who came out from God, yet His teaching is deeply imbued with His spirit. He certainly has the mind of Christ. In the text we are led up to Christ, to hear from the great Captain Himself the cheering order not to surrender, but to fight well the good fight of faith. We are bidden to hold out bravely ; but merely to hold out will not satisfy the Captain — He insists on complete victory. From " Be not overcome with evil," the com- mand advances to " Overcome evil." And the means wherewith to achieve the victory are specified — "over- come evil with good." However ineffective the Christian's weapons may appear, they will eventually prove them- selves the best fitted for the execution of the Divine command. We have then, in the first place, a command to hold out bravely. In the second place, we are commanded not only to hold out, but to raise the siege and overcome the enemy. And in the third place, with a view to inspire us for this warfare, a full armoury is pointed out — " good." THE GkBAT CONFLICT, asa 1. The coramand to hold out. " Be not overcome of evil." The Christian ought to be unconquerable, for if on his guard he has an inexhaustible power to upbear him in all his difficulties, to enable him to resist all onsets. If he desert not his position, his supplies cannot be cut off. The power of the Church at Kome might be considered insignificant as compared with that of Rome itself; but in the sight of Him who is able to measure accurately the strength of all things, it had sufficient power to hold its own against the mistress of the world. The power of God dwelt in it. This form of exhortation, this injnv...tion to hold out against evil, is peculiarly appropriate when addressed to the Church at Rome, where power was almost deified. The surroundings of the little Churob gave to the language aptness and force. The apostle, no doubt, had in view this distinguishing characteristic of Rome when he declared he was not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ, since it was the power of God. The order not to sur- render is calculated to direct the attention of the Church to this latent power, with a view to calling it into exercise ; it serves to throw the Church back upon its God. Numberless assaults have been made on the Church of Christ, but it still lives and thrives. It has, in the course of the centuries, sustained what were, apparently, temporary defeats, which were supposed by the enemy to be real defeats. But the Church soon rallied, and gave fresh proofs of its invincibility. Taken in connection with the preceding verses, the words, "Be not overcome of evil," give prominence to suffering. Christians are discomfited when they lose the '^irii •} lit ■'* \ '^ ■ i! i li I 284 THE GREAT CO^FLtCT. power of suffering in a Christlike spirit. The moment they begin to fight evil on its own low level, that is, with evil, they are overcome, their high position being already taken by the foe. When they go forth to meet the world with its own weapons, returning evil for evil, tliey are already vanquished ; when they give way to corrupt passions, and begin to avenge themselves for their wrongs, they are no longer holding out. They are affectionately forbidden to avenge themselves. Ven- geance is a weapon too sharp and dangerous for them to handle. A merciful Father forbids His children to touch it, claiming the use of it as His own special pre- rogative. "Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves. Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord." He can handle it with infinite nicety, untouched by corrupt or blinding passions. In His hand it is the flashing sword of justice, striking home with unerring precision. The Christian, however, in his endeavours to use it, is more likely to hurt himself than to wound his adversary. Instances in which Christians have shed one another's blood by the unlawful use of this sharp instrument will readily occur to all. They defeat themselves the moment they resort to retaliation. They should suffer meekly, suffer majestically, without losing their self- control. Solomon says, "He that is slow to wrath is of great understanding ; but he that is hasty of spirit exalteth folly." A hasty temper is a vulnerable point in a good man's character. A man who gives way to passion is easily upset and made to act and speak foolishly. " He exalteth folly." He who moves slowly to wrath shows that he has acquired mastery over self — THE GREAT CONFLICT. 285 the first step to victory over the world. " He that I.ath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls." A graphic portraiture that ! A defenceless un walled city is easily sacked — it falls a prey to the first cumer ; so is he who has lost control over himself — " broken down, without walls." On the other hand, " He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city." He who has conquered himself is a mighty conqueror — he has subjugate I his greatest enemy, and as a conse(|uonce is endowed with a vast power of resistance. Possessing his soul in jatience, trifles cannot ruffle or terrify him. The Christian should be a sufi'ering hero. The world's notions respecting heroes are still far from satisfactory. The man who retaliates is generally regarded as the brave, and if he has done so with liberal interest, all the better; whilst he who suffers wrongfully, without lifting his little finger to avenge himself, is too readily branded as a craven and a coward. Warriors still receive an undue share of glory, whilst the followers of the noble army of martyrs are robbed of their rightful portion. They are the true heroes who suffer with a meek and quiet spirit. When more enlightened notions shall prevail, a rearrangement of the gallery of celebrities must take place. " The first shall be last, and the last first." There is much dignity about Christlike suffering. Jesus Himself was a prince in suffering, but not a prince without followers. " But if, when ye do well, and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with God. For even hereunto were ye called; for Christ also '\- 1 1 i 1 1 i ■; 1 Nl i in ; m 1 1 1 i 1 1 ] 1 hI j ^^H 1 1 i 1 I I i 1 1 286 THE GREAT CONFLICT. suffered, leaving us an example that we might follow His steps." Christians should give the world living illustra- tions of the superb manner in which He bore His deep wrongs. He was reviled, but reviled not again, and in His sufferings He threatened not, but committed Himself to Him that judgeth righteously. He never for a moment lost His self-possession ; although shot at in all points, tempted in all things, yet He was invulnerable, wrapped up in His boundless power of endurance. In vain we look for any flag of truce, for any sign of sub- mission. He is the centre at which are aimed many ferocious and wily stratagems, but there is no approach to a capture of Him. He is never dislodged for a single instant from His secure position. He is simply invincible because of His endless power to suffer. We are called to follow in His steps, to resemble Him in the ability to hold out under the severest strain. Our power of suffering must exceed the enemy's power to inflict it. II. The Christian is not only to hold out, but also to CONQUER. " Overcome evil.'* Paul advances boldly from the defensive to the offen- sive. A besieged city remains unconquered as long as the hostile forces are kept outside the walls ; but, on the other hand, it cannot be said to conquer while the struggle continues in indecision, making the final issue doubtful. The besieging army must be repelled, driven back, before the city can claim a victory. In virtue of the resources available to him, the Christian is able to endure a long siege ; but he would be unworthy of his high avocation if he remained quietly in a state of passive .^1 THE GREAT CONFLICT. 287 resistance. It is his imperative duty to advance and put to flight the army of the alien. The endurance so much commended by Christ and His Apostles has a strong affirmative, assertive side. Remaining untaken itself, it is able to take the positions of the opposing forces. The Christian, possessing such a power, is rightly ordered to come off victorious. It is with the conqueror that Christ promises to share His throne. " 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." The redeemed are conquerors, and more than conquerors, through Him that loved them. They must overcome if they are to be sharers of His glory. The great Sufferer proved a great Victor. The Prince in suffering developed into a King in glory. The suffering Messiah moved on in the greatness of His strength, capturing fort after fort in the kingdom of evil. His adversaries occasionally flattered themselves that they had the advantage, wliilst really the victory belonged to the patient Victim. Their infatuation increased as Jesus approached the Cross, being strongest when He and they had reached the summit of Calvary. The enemy laboured under a strong delusion respecting the real significance of the situation, which, however, was well understood by the lamb-like Sufferer, who in the crisis of the battle declared the victory was His. His life from first to last was replete with successes ; on His lips iailure was an unknown word. At no point do we find Him retracing His steps in order to retrieve His position or to improve His work. No voice ever emanated from imperfectly performed task, i;'!ii » , ! , ! ( I ' ! t i 288 THE GREAT CONFLICT. CiiUiiif^ on Tfiin to return and do it over the second time. All along the course He sulfcrs, suffers seven-ly ; but the suffering bursts into victories, unchecked by a sin.;le defeat. The Man of Sorrows conquers all along the line. When near the Cross He says, " I liave glorified Tiiec on tlie earth ; 1 have finished the work wliich Thou ^avcst Me to do." On the Cross again He cries, "It is tinislied ! " finished not in the sense of giving it all up — disa})pointed, worsted, but in tlie sense of a complete triumpli. His agony none can fathom, deepening terribly as He drew near the end; neither can lie estimated properly tlic magnitude ol the work done. We are apt to forget that He was a niighty Doer in His sufferings. Superficial observers probably saw only mere passivity, whereas the divinest and noblest energy was being exerted to the highest top of its power. The Jews considered His activity at an end after His arrest. Tlie activity, how- ever, continued, growing in intensity, imjietus, and con- centration in His death. Before the officers could take Him in Gethsemane, it was necessary that He should voluntarily perform a mighty act of self-surrender. Of all concerned in the capture Christ Himself was the greatest worker. His self-sacrifice on the occasion in- volved a giving, the activity of which made the fussy activity of the taking appear exceedingly small. The dignity and power of His self-surrender so overpowered His captors that they fell backward to the ground. If we follow Him from Gethsemane to Calvary, looking into things and not merely on them, we shall, as we pass on, see in the Sufferer the Conqueror, and in the Lamb of God the King^ of glory. At every point, all along THE GREAT CONFLICT. 289 the line, He takes rather than is taken. In His trial before Pontius Pilate and tiie liigii priest He is con- demned to die the death of a malefactor ; but all the centuries since have reversed the verdict, pronouncing Him the true Winner, and branding His judges with shame and infamy. On Calvary He grappled single- handed with the prince of darkness. Tlie Cross, how- ever. He turned into a judgment-seat, from wliich He condemned sin and cast out the prince of this world. In His death He overcame, trampling under His feet the power of hell. " Having spoiled principalities and powers, He made a show of them openly, triumphing over them in it." Inasmuch as we have a Captain made perfect through suffering, we are urged to follow on bravely in His steps. The lines on which the great conflict should be waged are clearly indicated in the life and death of our Leader; and we shall do well to fix our eyes on Him. His com- mand to fight evil, in all its myriad forms, after His own example, may be taken as a certain guarantee of His presence and assistance. He is a Sender who accompanies the sent. When He commissioned His apostles to go and teach all nations. He took care to follow up the order with the great and precious promise of His constant company. "And, lo, I am with you ahvay, even unto the end of the world." They were told to abide in Jerusalem till they should be clothed with power from on high, that is to say, until Christ through His Spirit should accompany them, when they would be thoroughly equipped for the great task of regenerating a fallen world. He is still the same kind ( . ^^1 I ' ii i 1 4 t i 1 ! 3 i 1 1 ■ i i 290 THE GREAT CONFLICT. Sender, always pledijcd to <^o witli His people wliitherso- ever they are sent. Let this inspire us with undiiuntod courage in our direst extremities. Well may we shudder to enter upon such a conflict, and ask not to be sent unless He go with us. The saddest siglit presented to our view in Holy Writ is that of the left-hand throng moving away from Christ, in pursuance of the stern cotn- man.;rance which is sought. "Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unriuhteous man his thouc'hts." What is the induce- ment ? "Our God will have mercy upon him, and will abundantly pardon." The thiefs prayer on the cross was doubtless inr-pired by the Saviour's prayer for for- giveness on behalf of His crucifiers. But the change of mind in true repentance leads invariably to a change of life. Important, indeed, is the function of pardon in this transition from mind to action. First it induces the resolution to reform, then becomes a power in the penitent man to help him to carry out his resolution. Pardon thus bridges the chasm which exists between a knowledge of duty and the doing of it. Many, we believe, are convicted of sin, and even repent, but stop there. A belief in the divine forgiveness, moreover, would lead them on to the sphere of actual reform. As pardon soothes the troubled mind under conviction of sin so it stimulates the perverse will to ^'ood action, 1 t \ •f \ / 4 1 n 3o8 REFORM AND PARDON. and supplies the heart with a sufficiently strong motive power to all well-doing. (2.) Another function of pardon, and perhaps the most important of all in the reformation of character, is that it removes, or rather is itself, as its name implies, the removal of sin. The scarlet shall become as snow, the crimson as wool. Tlie figure is suj:gestive, being the colour of blood, and llood the emblem of crime, while wool and snow are the emblems of purity. To divest the language of its figures, it seems to mean that pardon will convert the criminal into a saint ; this is itfj function. The pagan world knew nothing of this, and yet it is the only power to convert mankind. Where wisdom, justice, and law failed, pardon succeeds. ''' Wh.at the Liv/ could not do in that it was weak through the flesl>, God sent ilis own Sou, in the likeness of sinful flesh, and for sin condemned sin in the flesh." Reform had become impossible under the law, not only because of sin itself, but also because of the demor- alising effects of the punishment of the law inflicted for sin. But God's own Son in the flesh went to the root of the evil ; He condemned sin in the flesh. " He died for our tranf^gressions to atone." Pardon is the result of His atoning sacrifice. "Who is our redemption unto the remission of sin." All the power and wisdom of God have been at work in produc- ing this gift of pardon, and all the virtues of Christ's death have gone to constitute it : hence it is " the power of God unto salvation." Pardon then cannot be charged with being something REFORM AND PARDON. 309 arbitrary. The case is not as though God in love were al>le to overrule the claims of justice and dispense at will with the righteous penalties of a law transgressed. On the contrary, the doctrine of pardon as a pow(r to reform the world is the only one which recognitres the fact that man is a sinner and that God is infinitely just. God alone knows the deptlis of siu : but even we may see something of its nie;ining in the niirror of the atone- ment and the necessity for jtardon. Now when sin itself is removed in forgiveness, all its consequences, too, will soon vanish : and, lightened of our burden, we shall feel free and ready to undertaki? the duties of the new life. How could we command the energy to do them while we were H . ' \ " From scalp to sole one slout^h and cnist of sin, Unfit for eartli, unfit for heaven ? Scarce meet For troops of devils, mad with blasphemy."* But now we are delivered from the law, having died unto that wherein we were held, so that we should serve iu newness of spirit and not in the oldness of the letter. Being delivered from "... those lead-like tons of sin that crashed The spirit flat before Thee," t our hearts begin to beat new life ; our drooping souls revive ; we will now undertake cheerfully to master the graud lesson, " Cease to do evil ; learn to do well." * Tennyson. t Ibid. I \ i < ( 3IO ) THE UNION BETWEEN CHRIST AND HIS PEOPLE. BY THE REV. J. REES OWEN, PEMBROKE. ** Without Me ye can do nothing." — John xv. 5. The Lord Jesus in the first part of this verse sets forth the union and communion between Him and His people, by comparing them to the vital connection between the vine and its branches : " I am the Vine, ye are the branches." He then shows the signal benefit which flows from abiding in Him : " He that abideth in Me, and I in him. the same brin<:];eth forth much fruit." " He that abideth in Me " — in dependence upon Me, in com- munion with Me, cleaving unto Me — "and I in him," by My word, My grace, and My Spirit, " the same bringeth forth much fruit." This is the excellent result of the abiding, bringing forth .much fruit. It is clearly indicated in the words of Scripture what this fruit is: " Ye have your fruit unto holiness," affirms Paul in his Epistle to the Eomans. " Being fruitful in every good work," says he in writing to the Colossians. In his Epistle to the Galatians he specifies in detail the fruits : "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy. peace, longsuffer- ing, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance." "Much fruit." Not scanty is the fruit on those who UNION BETWEEN CHRIST AND HtS PEOPLE 311 abide in Christ, but fruit abounding, a plenteous harvest. Fruitful in all circumstancQS, however unpropitious they may be — in exile, as John in the isle of Patmos ; in persecutions, as Peter; in stripes, in imprisonments, as Paul; yea, in the cruel and painful death of the martyr, as Stephen. In every state fruitful. In the words of the text the Lord Jesus impresses the truth that He is the spring of all good in us : " With- out Me ye can do nothing." Union with Christ is the root and source of any and every good in us : without Him — separated from Him — we can do nothing aright, nothing truly good, nothing that will be fruit acceptable to God or profitable to ourselves : " From Me is thy fruit found." We depend on Christ as the branch on the root for sap. If the branch be severed from the vine, so that the sap of the vine flows not into it, it cannot bear fruit ; yea, it will wither and decay and be fit for nothing but to be burned. So apart from Christ, severed from Him, we are nothing ; and we can do nothing, no real, lasting work; yea, soon we shall be fit for nothing but to be cast into the fire. This is the truth I wish to dwell upon. |![.( hIIi'I 1 !^ i I f .^t I. Apart from Christ there is no merit for our accept- ance with God. II. Apart from Christ we can do nothing to overcome the power of indwelling sin. III. Apart from Christ we can do nothing to build up a Christian character. IV. Apart from Christ we can do nothing to promote the true interests of others. t . 1 1 1 1 m '^ 1 ''' r n 3t2 THE UNION BETWEEN I. A[)art from Christ there is no merit for our accept- ance with God. Nothing is more clearly taught in tlie Scriptures than that no man in liimself is righteous Lefore God. "There is none righteous, no, not one." "All have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." It is no less clearly taught that no man can make him- self righteous — n? one of himself can attain to tne right- eousness which is necessary for his acceptance with God. "By the deeds of the law tliert; shall no llesh be justified in His sight." But in Christ there is all-su(iicient merit. Believing, trusting in Ilim, we are justified and accepted. "Being justified freely by His grace, through the redemp- tion that is in Christ Jesus." In Him we are freed from the judgment pronounced upon us; the sentence is removed from our persons : " There is now no condem- nation to them which are in Christ Jesus." And in and throuu'li Him we are broui,dit into the favour and approval of the Father: "Accepted in the Beloved." Not through His merit together with what we ourselves can do. No; we can do nothing to deserve the a]iproval (>f the Most High : " By grace are ye saved, through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God." His biographer, dpicribing the crisis of Dr. Chalmers' life which resulted in his spiritual birth, affirms that, when awaken( d to bis condition as a sinner before God, and to the high requirement.-? of the Divine law, he for a time " rejiaired to the atontnnent to eke out his deficien- cies, and as the ground of assurance that God would look upon him with a propitious eye." But the conviction was at length " wrought in him that he had been attempt- ing an impossibility . . . that it must be either on his own CHRIST AND HIS PEOPLE. 313 iuerits wholly, or 011 Christ's merits wholly, that he must lean : and tliat, by introducing to any extent his own righteousness into the ground of his meritorious accept- ance with God, ' he had been inserting a Haw, he had been importing a falseliood into the very principle of his justification.'" Have I not to do something, some little, myself to merit eternal life ? No, my soul, there is notliini:: for thee but to rclv u]>oi! the indnite merit of the Saviour. IIow many there are who delay to seek peace with God, thinking to make themselves a little better, more fit to come to Jliin, and more acceptable in His sight ! Thou canst never make thyself better ; sink deeper and deeper in sin thou wilt every hour. Come as thou art, with all the buiden of thy sins upon thee. There is nothing for life but Jesus Christ crucilied. Trust in Him. "Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men whereby we must be saved." 1'lie purest, holiest saints, after spending their lives in the service of tlie great Master, feel that their only plea for acceptance with God is the merit of thtj liedeemer. " I have no- thing," said the eminent minister John Jones, Talsarn, a little before his death ; " I have nothing : my sermons are nothing. All that I had is gone out of sight." Such was the experience of that devoted servant of God at the close of his life. Apart from Christ there is no merit. ili II. Apart from Christ we can do nothing to overcome the power of indwelling sin. The evil propensities within us are not the same in 1 m V- 3U THE UNION BETWEEN each one; it is not the same sin that doth so easily beset all ; it may be the love of money or the lust of power in one, vanity or pride, malice or guile, in another. Even in believers these corrupt tendencies are not com- pletely subdued. You feel their power often, and strive against them again and again. Sometimes you are ready to think that you have obtained the victory over them, and have been released from their grievous thral- dom, but alter a wiiile you find that they are as power- ful as ever. Does not the Christian have frequent experience that the corruption of his heart is too strong for him ? He made good resolutions, and broke them : he deternnned to overcome the lust, and fell a victim to it. After repeated faihires he is driven almost to despair, and is ready to ask, Can my corruptions ever be conquered, or must I become more and more their slave ? By our own unaided strength they can never be over- come ; they are too strong and stubborn for us. "Without Christ — severed from Him we cannot prevail against them : there will be no real mortification of sin except we experience in ourselves the virtue of Christ's precious blood. But if we be brought by Divine grace to cleave in faith to the Saviour, we shall have His Spirit to dwell in us, and in His strength we shall be enabled to prevail against all tho evil tenut-ncies of our hearts. Paul in his conflict with his inward corruption cried out, " wretched man that I am ! who shall deliver me from the body of this death ? " But he knew where to turn for deliveiance : " I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord." Apart from Christ we cannot be rid of the evil in our hearts, but His blood can wash away ' T:'-n\; CHRIST AND HIS PEOPLE. 315 the vilest sins. In the fables of ancient bards we read that one of the great labours imposed upon Hercules was to cleanse the foul Augean Stable. This mighty- task he accomplished by turning the river Alpheus through it, thus performing with ease what before had appeared impossible. That stable is a true picture of the heart defiled by countless sins. The streams of that fountain opened to the house of David and to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, turned by a living faith to flow into it, alone can cleanse it. It is impossible for us with all our efforts to remove the pollutior but this will be done effectually by the precious stream of the Hedeemer's blood. ** Sinners plunged beneath that flood Lose all their guilty stuins." Severed from Christ we shall never obtain deliverance from indwelling sin. III. Apart from Christ we can do nothing to build up a Christian character. Character may be regarded as a building. Now, in a building there is not only a foundation, but also a superstructure. It is of supreme importance for us to have the right foundation laid, to have " repentance from dead works and faith toward God," as the founda- tion principles of our character. We are not, however, to be always laying the foundation, but to go on and build upon it. We are not to rest satisfied with the first elements, but to go forward to perfection ; there is a progress to be in our religion, a gradual building up I; i, ' i;li i'. 3»6 THE UNION BETWEEN ii ' ! of Christian cliaracter with true, sound, lasting principles. Tho Christian is en;^fa,ife(l through life in this work, and it is only in humble dependence upon the Saviour that lie can do it wisely and well. Apart from Christ he cannot build aright. Or, again, Cliristian character may be liivcned unto a tree growing; it is to unfohl, and gain strengtli as a vigorous sai>ling. " Giving all diligence," says the Apo.stle Peter, " add to your f.iith virtue ; and to virtue kno\vledg(^; and to knowledge tonipcrance ; and to teni})erance patience ; and to patience godliness ; and to godliness brotlierly kindness ; and to brotherly kind- ness charity." Here is a noble, well-developed growth: a beautiful, symmetrical character, with no flaw or defect in it. lUit these spiritual graces will not appear in our lives if we do not abide in constant communion with Christ. The stronger the flow of the sap from the root into the branch the more fruit it bears, so the closer our fellowship with the Saviour the more will our graces thrive and grow. It is related of tlie saintly young minister, liobert M'Cheyne, that, when he settled in Dundee, the town soon began to feel that they had a peculiiir man of God in the midst of them. Dr. Bonar, in writing the story of his life, reveals the true cause of this. " The walls of his chamber," says he, " were witnesses of his prayerfulness and of his tears as well as of his cries." " The real secret of his soul's prosperity was the daily enlargement of his heart in fellowship with his God." In steadfast cleaving unto the Eedeemer, and by the rich indwelling of His Spirit in us, the Christian graces CHRIST AND HIS PEOPLE. 317 and virtues will come more and more clearly to sight in our life. Apart from Him, whatever soeminj,' strength, whatever loveliness, whatever glory we may have, will soon vanish and pass away. IV. Apart from Christ we can do nothing to protnote the true interests of others. Whatever has conduced to the real welfare of men in every age has been achieved l>y those who had the Spirit of Christ in them. What are all the provisions for the aUcriatiiKj and rcmovinfj of the wants and snffirtn(/s of men — the hospitals, orphanages, almshouses, tinil other phihmthropic institutions — but the results of Ciiristian effort, the products of the Christian spirit ? All noble enduring Icgidatlve acts also, such as that for the eman- cipation of the slaves, carrieil by the instrumentality of W^ilberforce and others, have been brouglit about by men under the influence of the religion of Jesus Ciirist. WHio likewise have filled Wales and other countries with the Gospel? Is it not men with the love of Christ as a holy fire burning within them ? It is the constraining power of His love shed abroad in their hearts that has impelled men to leave their home and country, to sacrifice their possessions and comforts, yen, their very lives, to make others ]iartaker of eternal sjilvation. AVhat but this imluced Henry Martyn, with such brdliant prospects oi)ening before him at home, to give up all in order to toil in heathen countries ? See him strug- gling on in the greatest privation and suffering, and at the earlv age of tliirtv-one dving in a foreign land in utter loneliness, without friend or relative near to 11 m i. V'\ ;!: 11 318 UNION UETWEEN CHRIST AND HIS PEOPLE. soothe or succour him. What was it that constrained liim to tlie sacrifice ? The love of Christ. Macaulay's lines of him are true : " For that dear Name, Throuph every form of dan<;er, dt'dtli, and shame, Oinvard lie jouiiieyt'd to a liapidtr sliore, Wliere danj,'er, death, r.iid shame are known no more." The love of Clirist is the only incentive strong enough. We shall do nothing effectually for the spiritual and eternal interests of others if we have not realised the preciousness of the Eedeemer and the constraining power of His love. Apart from Him we can do nothing. But how weak and feeble soever we are in ourselves, trusting in Jesus we can do great things. Paul regarded himself as " less than the least of all saints," and yet, in the strength of Christ, he felt that there was nothing too difficult for him to accomplish : " I can do all things," says he, " through Christ which strengtheneth me." If we likewise " be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might," difficulties cannot stand before us. Let us " be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus." Then shall we be more than conquerors through Him that loved us. Do we feel the worth of Jesus ? May the Spirit reveal Him in His preciousness to our hearts, and bring us all to put our trust in Him. Without Ciirist we cannot live aright, and without Him we cannot die aright. ( 3»9 ) THE DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES, BY T, REV. JOHN HUGHES, M.A., MACHYNLLETH. " He aLs(> that received seed among the thorns is ho tlmt heaioth the word ; and the cnrea of tliis world and the dcceitfulness of riches choke the word, and he bccometh unfruitful."— Matt. xiii. 22. Our Lord Jesus Christ often in His public ministry rebukes tlie worldliness of the human heart. Nor is there any sin condemned by him more severely than covetous- ness or the love of money. We can easily understand from the Gospels that he placed this sin in the front of His preaching, evermore reminding men, through soVnin warnings and plain-spoken parables, of their dani^er from the cares of this life and its delusions to forgot God, and thus to imperil the salvation of their souls. We can justly infer, from the marked place which this sin had in the teaching and ministry of our Saviour, that it was one of the public and crying sins of that age and country. His indignation burns against it, with no diminished zeal, through the whole of His public life, and His condemnation sounds, like the blast of a trum- pet, through the whole of the four Gospels. So great was this pestilence amongst the Jews, that even His own disciples had caught the infection ; now and again it breaks forth in worldly views of their Master's kingdom, iiM 'Ni ■'li 1 4 ( 320 THE DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES. ii r i1 ri and a vain unworthy ambition for the place of honour and wealth therein. They persistently hope even against liope that their discipleship will be a gain to them in an earthly sense, and tliat theirs will be the honours and emoluments of the Messiah's temporal reign. For a great part of their public life tlieir great question was: "Behold, we have forsaken all and followed Thee; what shall we have therefore ? " We nre not to suppose that this is a question of " other-worldlinc>s," so contempt- ible in the eyes of many who are wise in their genera- tion now-a-days ; no, it is a question of this-worldliness, asked by honest fishermen, who had i^cently abandoned their nets for the hopes of discipleship, and whose inia ^^ 1 11 H ] ^K In In 1 1- IHi M pVI L 1 H lU llll 326 tHJS bkCEITPULNESS OP ktCtiES. than the present one. Let us note J^ome of the signs of this niiscrable servitude to the idol of money. Let us ask, then, in the first place, what is the great purpose of lite with the multitude ? It is the making of money, the amassing of wealth. It has never occurred to the minds of a great majority that life has any other purpose ; nor do they consider it worth living for any other. To he or not to be rich — this is the question with the many in these days. And whoever makes money, and increases in riches, people descril}e as one that does well. Now what is the meaning" of this phrase in common parlance ? Does it mean that a man devotes himself to the great purpose of life — the glory of God and the good of his fellow-men ? or does it describe him who for his conspicuous virtue, and dis- tinguished among liis fellows for the art of doing good, approximates daily by constant effort and self-denial to that per'ect ideal of life set before us by the apostle in his com})ressed and beautiful description of the Saviour as one " who went about doing good ? " It means nothing of the kind ; far from it. It means nothing more nor less than that a man is successful in amassing wealth and heaping up riches ; he may fall short of the popular estimate of a just and a good mnn, but if he is making money and growing rich his neighbours talk of him as doing well. This popular language indicates how fur the deceitfulness of riches tells upon the people's standard of good. The highest good, the summum bonmn, was a great question with ancient philosophers ; but judging from this phrase, peo])le in these days have made up their minds with admirable complacency that it must THE DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES. 327 be, if not wealth itself, at least its twin brother. Such is the power of riches that we too often bless the covetous, " whom the Lord abhorreth." And this undue value placed upon wealth, this spirit of covetousness which is so prevalent in our age, has formed, we have reason to fear, a system of commercial morality which is altogether out of keeping with the morality of the Ten Commandments and of the New Testament. Trade is carried on in many an instance on very questionable principles, and travels often along a broad gauge, greatly divergent from the straight path and the narrow way of the Gospel. We are apprehensive that things are done in trade among this Christian nation, and by many that call themselves Christians, that would be revolting to the conscience of many an enlightened pagan. The axiom of free trade, the commercial gospel of the age — " to buy in the cheapest and sell in the dearest market" — has to a certain extent, we fear, corrupted the moral sense of the community, and, by a process of moral cryi^tallisation, has become hardened down into a principle of unfair, if not dishonest, trade between individuals. I do not in this place make any assertion with reference to the principle of free trade among nations. It is not a question to be handled from the pulpit, nor can it be dovetailed with any propriety into the alcoves of the sanctuary. But, to prevent any misapprehension, I ought to say that I do not wish to raise in your minds any doubts as to the validity of this great principle of our national and commercial life. I believe it to be the law of Providence to the nations of the world, that the super- !■ ' f! f 'M j 328 THE DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES. ' *: f : . abundance of one country should freely circulate t > make up for the scarcity and penury of another. As u inter- national principle, regulating the life of nationr, ii is not liable to the same abuse, and is subject to certain i ■ train^s which do not come into operation when it is ac .pted as thfl pn iciple of individual morality. A/iien individuals a« t li^^n the principle of free trade as stated in its iuifKi mental axiom, when they adopt it as the principle of thtii dealings with their i'ellow-nien, when they give as little as possible with their selling hand, and take as much as they can possibly ask or have with the other, they are certainly coniing very near transgressing the eighth commandment, and are within measurable distance of taking unjustly what is not their own. Free trade, as a principle of individual and social morality, must be keenly watched by an enlightened and quick conscience, thoroughly alive to the morality of the Ten Command- ments ; otherwise it degenerates into unfairness and in- justice, and justifies a man in his unlawful attempts to overreach his poorer neighbour. Let the principle of free trade be imbued with the morality of the Ten Commandments, let it be electrified by a current of that divine morality which was given to mankind from the stormy summit of Sinai, and it can be enshrined in the heart of the nation as a principle of social and individual morality, and thus it will preserve trade untrammelled and undefiled. But divorced from this, as it too often is, it erects avarice into a principle, and like a worm under- mines that righteousness which alone can exalt a nation. "He that maketh haste to be rich," saith the wise man, " shall not be innocent," and " hath an evil eye ; " and THE DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES. S^ such is the inordinate desire that many have of an.assing wealth, so great is tlieir haste to become rich, tha; heir eye cannot be pure nor their heart innocent. t-.i . ager are nicn in the race for goM, that righteousness and justice and fair dealing are down-trodden in the streets. " MidvC money," is the motto of a vast number in this Christian land ; " honestly if you can, but make it anyhow." Then note, in the next place, as another sign of the deceitfulness of riches and it' j.. "'er upon the age, how apt men are to give to the pot sion of wealth a far too important place in th" r ^ -^cimute of rei^pectability. What kind of society is Tne. it by a great majority of men wlien they speak of nid commend one another to " a respectable society ? " is it that society that deepens devotion to the highest interests of man's life in the world ; that makes him a stronger and a better man, that lifts him to a higher sphere of moral and spiritual life, and strengthens his consecration to duty and to God ? Would that it were. But it is far different. It is a society that can make a good appearance in this world, whose life is entirely dominated in too many instances by vanity and outside show. It is a society in many a case where wealth accumulates, though love and morality and justice decay. And many Christian parents have endangered the salvation of their children by opening the door of such society too wide before them. The honest, virtuous poor are often despised because they are poor, or rather because they are not rich, and the rich are respected and courted simply because they nre rich. Eiches will always, and must, in this world, exercise I li • I ;r;;i 330 THE DECEiTFULNESS OF RICHES, a great power upon iiien's social position : they are called in law a man's personalhj, and are an important factor in determining a man's place in society. This is according to the will of Providence ; nor ought any word be uttered by men who recognise tins will in the order of the world, to prejudice their legitimate influence as such. What we note above, as an instance of the deceitful power of wealth, is the tendency to regard them, apart from all considerations of moral worth, a standard and badge of respectability. Hence it is that men desire wealth more than virtue, and strive to become rich rather than to become good. Another sign which indicates how far the accumula- tion of wealth forms one of the ideals of life in this age is the fabulous fortunes amassed by men in our time. We calculate a man's worth very often, not by his virtues, but by his money and his estates ; and if a man dies leaving vast wealth behind him, his life is con- sidered a fortunate one. We ask not, what amount of good he did ; we measure his worth, not by what he distributed and how far he communicated his own happiness to rejoice the heart of the widow and cheer the path of the fatherless, or whether he helped to swell the streams of those benevolent institutions which irrigate the world : no, say that he reserved for himself and his household a million or more of money, and we count him among the successful and the fortunate ones. The fact that such a stupendous mass of wealth is some- times gathered by a single individual, shows plainly that the making of money is one of the great ideals of the age. TlUi ni'XEin'ULNiiSS O!' RICHES. 33 » There is yet one more sign of the increasing power of wealth on the community, and our danger therefrom, to which I would refer: it is the growing importance of political economy. This is the darling science of the age — its Benjamin, and the son of its right hand. No science is so popular; no questions are discussed with greater zest than what pertain to the production and distribution of wealth. The inquiries of the ancient philosophers into the science of the good, and the beautiful, and the true, have been displaced by our political economies. Metaphysics and moral philosophy, and above all theology, our wise men inform us, are out of date — old clothes which a practical and a learned age have out-grown, the stays and pinafores of a former state of infancy and childhood. Political economy is the toga viriliSf the manly garment of this age. We must have the practical sciences, and the science of wealth, taught our youth in school and university ; something that can be turned with the greatest possible facility into hard cash. Instead of the science of good- ness, we have the science of wealth investigated ; and instead of the theory of riches, we have the theory of rent, of productive or unproductive labour. With all our boasted civilisation, the natives of Clnistendom have become one vast trading community : every Government is a Board of Trade ; every Senate a Chamber of Commerce. Mark how much greater attention is paid in our Parliament to questions bearing upon our wealth and trade than to those of humanity and morals. And we have just witnessed the spectacle in the Presidential election of the United States of America of a ronspiracy } It !il M ' . ' 1 ■ i , .132 77//i hnCEITFULNESS Ot' RICHES. of woalUi iiiid conuplion ogaitist purity and jusiicn in Llie a(lnr"ni.stratioii of tlic Guvcrnniont. Nor in this country are our liniids entirely clean from th'i same vice. Weultli plays far too imi)ortant a part as ayainst virtue and ri<,dite()nsiie.ss in our elections, [t is well known that the last general election was a notoriously corrupt one : bribery was rampant tlirougli the land. The Times, in a leailing article at the time, stated, unless my memory deceives me, that the empire had been as well as sold to the iiighcst bidder, and that our respect for the Parliament which was returned would not be increased by paying too great heed to the manner of its election. We are so much in love with wealth, that provided a candidate is covered with gohl dust, and agrees with the majority in his political creed, we elect him as our legislator, and do not make any high demands upon his loyalty to the great principles of morality and righteousness which lie at the foundation of the common- wealth. I do not make these remarks with reference to one I olitical party more than another, nor do I make any charLie a<'ainst the character of our public men. Like people, like rulers. You will find as much morality carried into the politics of the nation as you will in any other si>here of practical life ; and certainly many of our states- men are as distinguished for nobility of character and their exemplary lives as for their ability and eloquence. I am not in the above remarks traducing the character of our public men. I am pleading for a higher ideal of citizenship among the people, which is the only thing that can lift high the standard of public life, and make run DiiciuTFULNnss of riches. 333 politics a branch of morality. This reform cannot ho brought about by any numbcu* of Fraiicliise Bills, nor by any Act of rarliamcnt. It is a reform that must begin with the people themselves; it must grow up from the heart and conscience of the nation, in an ideal of life and citizenship taken from the teaching of Christ and His apostles. And one of its first and surest signs will be a moral emancipation from the haso love of money, and a passionate regard for that rigliteuusness which exalteth a nation. Such are some of the manifest signs of the immense power that riches exercise upon our minds, and they show how far man's life is dominated by their deceit- fulness. This is the great delusion of the age. It is through the deceitfulness of riches that the god of this world works with energy in the children of disobedience, and blinds them to all that is pure and lu>ly and divine. It is through this men become ensLiveil to the things of time, and lose all sense of the world to come. Well has it been said by our great statesman and Prime Minister : "Although there are many idols to which humanity may become enslaved, and many delusions by which it may be led astray both from manhood and Christian duty, there is no idol so base, no delusion so miserable, as the servitude of the soul of man to the idol of money." It is through the love of money and the deceitfulness of riches that the good seed scattered broadcast every Sabbath over the land is choked jrnd rendered un- fruitful. These are the thorns Lhut st.rana,?e every sense of duty, every impiession of God and the world to come, that an earnest ministiy must of Uvcoosity pro- 1 1 ! li i ! i i 1 i 334 THE DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES. i duce in its hearers: hence it is that, though constant attendants in the house of God and upon the preaching of the \7jid, they never come to the knowledge of the truth. Men are impressed, but not converted, because their minds are taken up entirely by the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches. Oh, how many there are around us who have no time for religion — no time to serve God ! All their thoughts are taken up with the things of thi.s world ; the great passion of their souls is to become rich, their whole being is a sacrifice to the idol of money. It is by a bit and bridle of gold that the great enemy leads them to perdition: it is along tlie slippery places garnished by the allurements of thfc, world that they pursue the golden apples, and rush headlong into hell. How many men in this Christian land answer tlie Lord's description of the rich fool in the parable — " laying up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God." But this use of my text is a general one. To bring the words home to each one of you, the application must be more close and particular. There is nothing easier for men, when they assemble to hear the Word of God, and sit listening to general remarks like these — there is nothing easier than to evade them, thinking that they are free from the sin so generally and so indefinitely con- demned. The human heart loves to lie in ambush, and no arrow drawn at a venture will turn it, wounded and bleeding, out of the chariot of its lust and self-indulgence. God forbid that I should stand in this place to hurl charges of worldliness and covetousness at the age and nation, as if the Church of God, or even the Christian THE DECEITFULNBSS OF RICHES. 335 pulpit, had hands clean from the sin. No, brethren, the deceitfulness of riches exerts a great power over believers and over the Church of God in every age. We are all in peril from it. St. Paul saw the danger threatening the apostolic Church, and instructs Timothy to put believers upon their guard against it : " Charge them that are rich in this world, that they be not high-minded, nor trust in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us richly all things to enjoy ; that they do good, that they be rich in good works, ready to distribute, will- ing to communicate, laying up in store for themselves a good foundation against the time to come, that they may lay hold on eternal life." We mentioned the natural depravity and ungodliness of the heart as one cause of the power of riches to deceive our souls and to lead us astray from God : this cause is immanent still in the Church. This is a root of bitter- ness in the believer ; nor will he find himself entirely delivered from it until he lays aside his earthly tabernacle. It is true that we have been delivered from the kingdom of Satan and translated to the kingdom of God's beloved Son. This world is not the active ruling principle of the believer's life ; he is made partaker of the Divine nature, and has a sense of things Divine and eternal. He does not therefore love the world nor the things of the world. Nevertheless, there abides in him a principle of corruption and unbelief which continually sprouts into buds of worldliness and forgetfulness of God. And it is marvellous how soon, even in the child of God, a worldly temperament forms itself when he is off his guard. A glance at the state of tbe Christif^n Church in general, or N^i^^ S.i! I i ■ 336 THE DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES. any particular Church, will convince you that it too is far gone under the influence of the deceitfulness of riches. It has been said by one " that covetousness will, in all probability, prove the eternal overthrow of more characters among professing people than any other sin, because it is almost the only crime which can be indulged and a pro- fession of religion at the same time supported." And, indeed, the words of the text can be as fittingly applied to a class of professors as to the unprofessing worldling. For the words. " and it becometh unfruitful," Luke reads, " and bringeth not fruit to perfection." From these words we infer that our Saviour intended to designate by that which was sown among thorns, not the unprofess- ing hearer, but the professing Christian. From the words in Luke we learn that there has been some growth of the good seed ; it brings forth fruit, but nob to perfection. What can this be but a profession of the Word ? The ministry has made such an impress upon the soul, the good seed has BO taken hold of the mind, that it brink's forth fruit in an . . . i but which never ought to have been asked, " Whether it be possible to make the best of both worlds ? " Many Christians deny their religion through their worldliness. They have their affections set on the things of earth : slaves of mammon, and downtrodden by the deceitfulness of riches, their whole life is notliing but one great sigh for more, more of the world. Nor does the evil rest with themselves, for by such an example they sow the seeds of covetousness and ungodliness in their children ; they inwardly inform them of things seen and temporal; and by thus producing in their minds a worldly temperament, they bind them with chains of adamant to the things of sense. Such parents may bequeath their children a competency in this life ; but they leave them meagre, crabbed, miserable worldlings, totally unfit to use that com- petency well. Is this the bringing up of families, and the rearing of children, that is asked of us by our Heavenly Father ? Is it thus that we vvp-tch over the souls in- trusted to our care r and is it thus we prepare ourselves to give an account of our stewardship ? Ah, brethren, better leave our children poor, but diligent in their calling ; self-reliant and independent in mind ; spurning with honourable pride to eat the bread of indolence, and to take up that which is not their own, and at the same time having, by our example and teaching, in- grained into their minds the great lines of the world to come, the fear of God and devotion to His service. This cannot be done by any amount of wealth ; but can, and often is done, by the blessing of God upon the example of pious parents, who have learnt the secret of living well; who, by prayer and watchfulness, do not let their ^^V THE DECEITFULNESS OP RICHES. 341 hands hang down, or their knees grow feeble in the service of God ; ever using the world without abusing it ; seeking first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. Yes, yes, men can, through the grace of God, give all due attention to the world without being worldly ; they can so do their duty in providing for their own, that their children will grow up and call them blessed, for their noble example of worldly wisdom and godly life. And you can rest assured, my brethren, that whenever your intercourse with this world, and your devotion to your business or your calling, render you indifferent to the public and private duties of resligion, and cause your zeal for the glory of God to grow cold : whenever it so happens, be assured that you are then overmuch engrossed with the Ctv ' of this world, and your religion is in danger of beiuj-j,- ..ciiled and choked by the deceitful- ness of riches ; the thorns are growing up apace over your soul ; and unless they are speedily removed by the help of God's Spirit, through your own penitence and prayers, the good seed will be choked, and you will become unfruitful. It is not in our station, but in our hearts, the danger lies ; it is our sinful and unbelieving hearts that make the cares of this world and the deceit- fulness of riches such a peril to our souls. Nor let any one think that it is the rich and well-to- do classes of the community only that are liable to this danger from the deceitfulness of riches. It is true that their station parti.^ularly exposes them co the danger, for riches have their temptations. They tend to attach the mind more closely to this world, and to make men more indifferent to and thoughtless of the world to come ; they il.i' .If 342 THE DECElTFULNESS OF RICHES. vl strengthen the natural pride of the heart, and, by so doing, make it more difficult for those surrounded by the pomp and vanities of the world, to bring their minds to think of their guilty and lost state in the sight of God ; and by covering men up in the comforts of sense, and keeping them in a continual whirl of excitement, they tend to shut out from the mind all thoughts of God and religion, and to stifle and choke them when they force an entrance. It is true now, as it was in the days of the Apostles, " not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called." God have mercy upon them and preserve them from the dangers of their station ! That prayer of the wise man is one of the most sensible, as well as one of the most comprehensive, that ever quivered upon human lips : " Remove far from me vanity and lies ; give me neither poverty nor riches ; but feed me with an allowance of food." But though the rich are specially exposed to this danger, yet it besets all classes ; and the words of my text speak with a very clear and humane voice even to the poor. Who are so downtrodden by the cares of this world, by the anxieties of this life as they ? and who are so much in danger of casting an adulterous eye upon the riches of this world, and of longing for them more than for the righteousness of the kingdom of God ? Do not the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches often beset the souls of the struggling multitude, and prevent them from doing their duty in that sphere of life to which it has pleased God to call them ? The majority in every age have cast a longing eye at this forbidden fruit. And we can easily discern, in these days, a state rilR DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES. 343 of unrest in the lower strata of society, produced by the spreading of communistic doctrines which chime in with the natural longing for wealth, and which become the secret Jezebel of tlicir deceitfulness ! The multitude look with envy at their more fortunate neighbours, and long for the riches which they cannot possess, and pos- sessing cannot enjoy, far more than for the riches of grace and eternal life which are theirs if they will only take possession. They desire wealth more than grace, and the possession of the world more than the peace of God : they hunger and thirst for lands and estates rather than the righteousness of the kingdom of heaven. You will see the deceitfulness of riches sometimes ruling with as much power, if with less pomp, m the cottage of the poor, as in the mansion of the rich. Verily there is no class of people, no man, whatever be his station in life, free from this danger ; no soul who has not to some extent felt the power of this charm, and defiled himself in the sight of God with this iniquity. It is a disease that runs in the blood of mankind ever since they departed from God as their highest good. The heart, godless and wandering from God, the fountain of living waters, is evermore hewing out cisterns for itself in the creature, is ever apt to grasp and embrace the good things of this world. It cannot resist their charm ; it always falls a victim to their deceitfulness. Hence it is that our blessed Saviour gives the evil such a prominent place in His preaching ; and His ministry from beginning to end is one great, solemn warning against our danger from this world. And the danger is not less but greater in this age. 344 THE DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES. ml' II i ft Civilisation tends to aggravate the evil. It tends to aggrandise the power of wealth by increasing its inlliience. This is the tax we have to pay for the good or the evil of civilisation : instead of making life more simple, it makes it more complex : it increases the power of riches both for good and for evil. The splendour of civilisation throws a brilliancy and a charm over wealth, and makes the deceitfulness of riches more deceitful still. The atmosphere of the age is thick with the infection ; and we are in danger, notwithstanding our religious teaching and our Christian institutions, of having our impressions of things divine and eternal swept away by the spirit of the world. How true are the words of the apostle of many in our age — " They that desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hnrt- ful lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdition. For the love of money is the root of all evil : which, while some coveted after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves through with many sorrows." Let us, therefore, pay heed to these warnings of God's Word; and set to heart the teaching of our Saviour in the words of my text and elsewhere, concerning the power of the world upon our hearts, and the deceitfulness of riches. Our great danger in our daily intercourse with this world and the things of time is to lose the sense of the world to come — to lose it as a sentiment of the soul's life, and as a rule of conduct ; so as at length to draw all our principles of action from the life that now is. That intuition of the spiritual and eternal world, which, we believe, is a natural instinct in the soul, may, by daily and godless intercourse with this world, become Tllr: DECP.iri'ULNESS OF RICHES. 345 practically dead ; and wo will, in consoquenco, live as men of time, having onr portion in this world. It is a high duty, therefore, to do all we can, by diligently attending to the exercises of religion in private and in public, to keep alive and in activity these spiritual in- stincts, which open up intercourse and communicii be- tween our souls and the world to come, in like manner as our natural senses bring us into daily intercourse with this present world. And before I conclude, I will mention a few of the ordinances instituted by the grace of God, to quicken our souls to things unseen and eternal, and to preserve us in our constant dealings with the world from its evil power and deceitfulness. I. The Word of God. Read much of your Bibles, brethren. Have constant dealings with the Word of God. This is the revealer of the eternal world : it is the divine telescope that brings into our field of view things spiritual and unseen. Herein the voices of another world speak to our souls: ao one time "as the sound of many waters," like the thunder of a mighty waterfall, subduing the soul into awful wonderment before the gimid realities of another life ; at another speaking in that still small voice, full of music and love, of grace and truth, that captivates the heart, and wins a man out of his cave, be it of covetous- ness or any other sin, to serve and obey, to worship and adore, the Everlasting God. In this age of books draw closer to the Holy Scriptures ; read them often, read them well, read them with prayer. Come to them with the Psalmist's prayer in your heart : " Open mine eyes so that I may see wonderful things out of thy law;" and you will understand how this world, with its constant ebbing and \ * ▼ 1. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I 1^ liii 1^ 12.2 1-25 i 1.4 III 1.6 Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 ) •y \ 340 THE DECBITFVLMESS OF RICHES. flowing, will soon be no more ; and hearing the niighty incoming of the eternal world like the murmur of a distant ocean, as you stand meditating upon its sublime verses, you will be in no danger of loving the world or the things of the world. "The law of Thy mouth is better unto me than thousands of gold and silver. I have rejoiced in the way of Thy testimonies as much as in all riches. Thy testimonies have I taken as an heritage for ever, and they are the rejoicing of my heart." Such was the experience of the Psalmist whose delight was in the law of the Lord : his love of the Word preserved him from the evil world and the deceitful ness of riches. Such also will be ours, if we will take this Word to be our lamp and our light ; if we enthrone it in our hearts as the rule of our life, and let it permeate the very marrow of our existence. Correct your estimate of the world by evermore bringing it to the test of God's Word ; and the power of the world to come will deliver you from the thraldom of this. When eternity is in one end of the balance, time and its treasures will very soon kick the beam, and be stripped of all this deceitfulness. Betake yourselves, therefore, to the Word of God as to a city of refuge ; dwell there in your thoughts and medi- tations ; and it will deliver you from the delusions of this present evil world. 2. The house of God. Make a conscience of attend- ing the means of grace, and of presenting yourselves in the sanctuary of God, looking up to him for His blessing upon its ordinances. Here is the mount of vision, the " Delectable Mountains," where the pilgrims catch a glimpse of the Celestial City, its gates of jasper and its THE DBCElTPULNESS OP kICHES. 347 streets of gold. " In the mount of the Lord it shall be seen." Here you will find a quiet retreat from the noise and bustle of the world, and in the Spirit on the Lord's- day you too, like the beloved disciple in Patmos, will receive a revelation from Jesus Christ. You will sometimes see through the sacred ordinances, as through a vista over- shadowed with glory, the heavenly Jerusalem, and the blessedness of them who are before the throne. Our Heavenly Father has commanded a blessing here. He has promised to come unto us here and bless us. Men little know what they lose, and how they give place to the world and the devil, when they become estranged from the house of God. " Until the day break and the shadows flee away, I will get me to the mountain of myrrh and to the hill of frankincense ; " so speaks the beloved to his spouse, directing her to the place of their fellowship till the time of their espousals is passed. Where is the mountain of myrrh ? where the hill of frankincense ? It is no other than the house of God, the sanctuary of His Presence. In the night of our present state, and the shadows of our earthly pilgrimage, let us ever betake ourselves to this mount of myrrh to await the dawning of our eternal day. Here our souls will catch the first streaks of the eternal morning ; and you will go forth to your respective spheres of toil in this world, under the glow of that blessed hope of everlasting life which is the strongest disinfectant from the defile- ment of the world. Let me beseech you, therefore, brethren, "not to forsake the assembling of yourselves together, as the manner of some is ; " betake yourselves nt all times to the sanctuary, to strengthen your souls for i \ I! ' 348 THE DECBITFULNESS OF RICHES. combat with the evil one, and to fortify yourselves against tlie deceitfulness of riches. 3. The consecration of the home. Consecrate your homes to God by His Word and prayer. Do not neglect the exercises of religion in your families. Let your hearths be consecrated and daily purified by the devo- tions of the altar. Worship the Everlasting God in your houses ; as prophets, priests, and kings of your households, gather them before the eternal throne and bow before God your Maker. Family worship is one of the most effective means to preserve the sense of things divine and spiritual in the soul, and to shield it from the delusions of sense. The diver, before he sinks into the water, pro- vides himself with a breathing apparatus. Without this he would soon perish, but clothed in it he can sink many fathoms under water, spend hours in the deep, and return to the surface with his treasure of pearls. Methinks that family religion is a man's spiritual diving apparatus. We are in great danger of perishing eternally, from the care of the world and the deceitfulness of riches, but family worship, under God's blessing, will keep alive in our souls a sense of divine things in our daily intercourse with the world. It is the breathing ordinance enabling a man to breathe the atmosphere of heaven while he plies his business on the earth. Maintaining your spiritual re- spiration thereby, you can sink into your business or your profession, making it a means of grace to yourself and of glory to God, and you will return at the close of each day, and at the close of your life with your treasure of pearls and your crown of glory. Prayer is the great ventilator of our lives ; without it we perish in the foul THE DECEITFULNESS OF RICHES. 349 atmosphere of a godless world, the slaves of its delusions and the dupes of its deceit. But through it, thank God, the currents of the eternal world rush into the soul, sweeping away the suffocating miasmas of this " slough of despair ! " It is the Gulf Stream that circulates in the ocean of this life, bringing it more and more into the temperature of heaven. See to it, my brethren, that you ventilate your lives, your homes, your callings with prayer ; by so doing you wiU watch over your religious impressions and your sense of divine things, that they be not choked by the cares of the world and the deceit- fulness of riches ; pray without ceasing, and thereby breathing the purity of heaven, you will be enabled to follow your daily calling in the fear of God, overcoming the world through faith ; and though you lie among the pots of the world, your feet bemired with the heavy clay, called to a life of toil for your daily bread, your soul shall be like a dove, pure as silver, beautiful as gold, that can fly away far above this deceitful world and be at rest. And when the end comes, when this world and its riches will for ever pass away, you will have your treasure in heaven, a better and an enduring substance. , J !(' I M ( 350 ) THE ONE THING NEEDFUL, u BY THE REV. T. NICHOLSON, DENBIGH. " But one thing is needful."— Lu KB x. 42. There was unity in the life of the Saviour Himself — a unity strikingly sustained in, and penetrating through, the utmost variety. This we account for by His per- sonality, and by the great object of His advent. The edifice is built according to a certain style of architecture. Come there while it is building, and you may fail to understand the different steps in the process of erection ; you may fail to account for the form and location of differ- ent parts of the edifice, but when the whole super- structure is completed, and when each part is judged in its relation to the whole, there is to be recognised one special style of architecture which has been sustained throughout. The life of Christ should be looked upon in its entirety. Human reason dissects it, fails to explain satisfactorily one or more incidents in it, and hurries to pronounce the Saviour an impostor. His life false, and His religion deceptive. This fragmentary method applied to Christ and Christianity has been signally conducive to the scepticism which is so rife in our day. If every portion of th^ edifice were Judged in its rela,tion tp the whole THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 35« structure, there would be recognised throughout the most consistent unity. Were we to go to the artist while his portrait is in process of execution, we might often have our misgivings ; we might fail at the time to account for many an oblique line drawn by the pencil ; still when the portrait is completed, it will be evident that every movement of that master hand, and every stroke of that pencil, have been executed in the light of one grand idea, and have helped to realise one leading purpose. Are there lines in the Saviour's life, which, when viewed separately, appear unto us unaccountably oblique ? Still the fact remains — Jesus lived, spoke, suffered, all in the presence of one supreme purpose — there is no apparent winding in His path but that hastens Him towards one great consummation. His was a life led under a sense of the necessary ; the work to be accomplished was so great, the time for work was so short, there was no room in that life save for the mdispensahle. However far apart the streams may appear to flow, there is in the life one great ocean where they all meet, and in which they are all absorbed. The Saviour would teach us an important truth in these words, uttered by Him on this occasion. We read here that He and His disciples entered into a certain village — Bethany by name — where resided Martha and her sister Mary. We have been gratified at times by the thought that our blessed Saviour was not left alto- gether without friends during His sojourn among men. True, these were outnumbered by His enemies. He was hooted by the mob, but here is a family at Bethany, of a high sofjial position, who deemed it their highest honour to welcome the Master and His disciples to their hospi- . i \\- ', i r i 352 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL fcality. Martha was busily preparing her viands for the weary travellers, ^fart/ sat at the Master's feet to hear His word. These sisters probably represent two charac- ters equally necessary to the great cause — Martha engaged in outward service, representing the active character, and Mary at the Master's feet, plunging into the spiritual depths of His doctrine, representing the meditative char- acter. Martha has no sympathy with Mary's apparent indolence. She loses her self-possession and turns to the Master, saying, " Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone ? bid her therefore that she help me." If the record justifies the notion that this sister interrupted the Lord while teaching, she betrays a culpable breach of reverence. With what tenderness does He reply: " Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things, but one thiwj is needful." The context seems to exclude the ascription of the literal meaning to these words, viz., that there was needed only a simple dish to supply the wants of the guests. " The good part which Mary hath chosen is a lasting possession." We have already intimated that the Saviour who was so entirely consecrated to one great object, would teach us an important truth in these words, and it is this — That it is a mistake to divide oneself among many cares and troubles. The great secret of life is to seize upon one thing, which will determine all else, and in the light of the context this one thing seems to be — a personal interest in Jesus Christ. This Mary undoubtedly had ; her spirit feasted upon the words which were the outcome of the Master's spirit. Our aim will be to show that— THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 353 "A personal interest in Jesus — a personal relation to II im — a poiiion for oneself in Him — is the one thing needful." It is the one thing needful — I. To give life a worthy aim. II. To give life any real value. III. To endure the trials of life. IV. To face the great hereafter. I. This is the one thing needful to give life a worthy aim : If we would start aright, we must start at the feet of the Great blaster. Here alone can we find reliable direc- tion how to live. Jesus Christ appeared in the flesh, not only to work out the scheme of our redemption, but also to reveal life — He " brought life and immortality to light through the Gospel ; " and not life beyond the grave alone, but life also this side of death. A stream of light emanates from His precepts and from His example to dispel the darknesses of life. He alone can " set our feet upon a rock, and establish our goings." "What a terrible thing it is to live ! Life ! Who has fathomed the depth of its mysteries ? No one, save the Giver of it, understands it. He knows it in relation to its primitive source, and in relation to its goal in the great future. We insult the very dignity of our own life by going else- where to seek directions how to live. " In all thy ways acknowledge Him.," and Him only. He alone can " direct thy paths." It is often asked — " Is life worth living ? " We answer in the affirmative, when life has a worthy object. We 354 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL, \': ■ I know there are men around us who have never spent a single moment over this matter, who go inadvertently through their monotonous routine of duties day after day, and heedlessly look forward to the time when death will put an end to their present mode of existence. What a tremendous mistake ! Our life cannot be the result of chance. Even the world of matter is not the result of chance, although a certain class would have us believe that the fortuitous and undirected movements of these atoms, through millions of ages, resulted in the present universe. Well has it been said by a living Divine, that " it is far more unreasonable to believe that the atoms or constituents of matter produced of themselves, without the action of a Supreme Mind, this wonderful universe, than that the letters of the English alphabet produced the plays of Shakespeare without the slightest as'^istaiico from the human mind known by that famous name." Is it not evident that one sphere of life is subservient to a higher one ? The material world has an object. It does not move by chance ; but if this be said of the material creation, what about man, the lord of creation, whoso body is so fearfully and wonderfully made, and whose spirit is a reflection of the everlasting Spirit ? Has that mysterious personality, by a Divine fiat called into being, to rush at random hither and thither ? No ; a thousand times no. There is a direction towards which all the issues of life should tend. There is an object worthy of man. God had an object in creating ; have we an object in living ? We have lost our way, we are wandering in the dreary wilderness, if God's object in creating and our object in living be not one and the same, He Him- THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 355 Belf roveuls unto us His object. " For I have crentod liim, I have forniod, yea, I Imvo niado \nu\ for vii/f/lori/ — fur mji (jloryy This is tlie way : walk y« in it. But wlio will set our feet upon tliat patli ? Jesus will. He teaches us to pray thus : " Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory." It is Jesus alone that teaches us to live so as to attain the object which God Himself had in creating. Start at the feet of the blaster, or you will go astray. What is the ambition of yonder young man ? IT(i has a lucrative post. He intends to excel in his profession. He looks with eagerness towards wealth, position, fame, and power, and strives hard to reach them. All this is right within certain limits ; buo he must start at the Master's feet, or he will encounter difficulties which he will never be able to surmount. Wealth, position, fame, and power : do you see the lighthouses built upon those rocks to warn you of the danger ? And alas ! alas ! how many souls have been completely wrecked on those rocks ! In order to make power, fame, position, wealth, subser- vient to the glory of God, a personal interest in Christ is the one thing needful. i I II. This is the one thing needful to give life any real value : — What an all-important truth this must be ! The real worth of life depends upon its ruling principle. What is Paul's teaching ? That a man may speak with the tongues of men and of angels, that he may understand all mysteries and all knowledge, that his faith may remove mountains, that he may bestow all his goods to feed the )l ll 356 run ONE THING NEHDFUL. poor, that- lie imiy even give liis body to be burned — and wliat does it all come to ? Nothinij. Nothing, in the absence of love for a personal Saviour. Place any other motive at tlio root of these good works, and they enjuid nothiiKj. " The conclusion of the whole matter is, Fear God, and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of num," or — without the word " duty," which is not in the original — "for this is the whole man." This is the man in the completeness of liis being, for deprive him of this personal relation to God, and you deprive liim of all. You will have but a cipher renuiining. The alchemists of old, who paved the way for the modern science of chemistry, were, it is said, searching for a substance which contained the original principle of all matter, and had the power of dissolving all things into their primitive elements. Here was the one thing needful to give value to all material objects brought into contact with it. We do not suppose this was ever dis- covered by them, or that it ever existed save in their wild imagination ; but there are many present, I trust, who have found in effect a spiritual equivalent — that one thing needful which gives value to all brought into contact with it, that philosopher's stone which turns everything into glittering gold in the eye of Heaven itself. Even all the life becomes consecrated — the ruling of nations, the regu- lating of households, obeying monarchs, obeying parents, obeying masters, even what often seems trivial, eating and drinking. This one thing needful can set value to all. You take a cheque to the bank to be cashed ; but to be honoured it must bear the right signature ; otherwise the cheque is valueless. And if we mean to carry on any THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 157 tmnsftction with Heaven — every prayer, every aerviee, must boar the name of Jesus, or they will be rejected as worthless. For the moment wo will go as far as the time of Ezekiel in search of an illustration. You remember the vision of the resurrection of dry bones, " Behold there were very many in the open valley ; and lo ! they were very dry." Ezekiel is commanded to prophesy, and as ho prophesied " there was a noise, and behold a shaking, and the bones came together, bono to his bone ; and lo ! the sinews and the flesh camo up upon them, and the skin covered them above." Here is perfect articulation, and order, and symmetry — what more is wanted ? Why, life is wanted. Then Ezekiel is commanded to proph^'sy unto the wind, and he cries out, "Thus saith the Lord God, Come from the four winds, breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." " And the breath came into them, and they lived, and stood upon their feet, an exceeding great army." Leaving on one side now the immediate interpretation — what did the breath of life do ? It simply set value to the body previously existing. Was there no need of the articulation, of the flesh, and the sinews, and the skin ? Decidedly there was, but of what avail were they without life ? We fear there are members in our churches these days, who make a satisfactory appearance before the world. There has been a certain shaking in their lives which has brought the bones together, bone to his bone ; their outward character, as far as the public eye can see, is blameless ; but still the breath of life is wanting. Wo may well pray above the heap of dry, lifeless bones, " Come from ii' 358 THE ONB THING NEEDFUL. i/.^M ii ■:' i. the four winds, breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." We are not left without instances of this in Scripture. You remember the young man who came to the Saviour, saying, " All these things have I kept from my youth up, what lack I yet ? Jesus said unto him. If thou wilt be perfect, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven, and come and follow me." Thy religion has been all for thine own sake : renounce self, and follow Me ; live henceforth for My sake. But rather than obey he went away sorrowful. A beautiful coin truly, but with- out the true ring ; the breath of life was wanting, though the bones had come together in good order. How exact the Pharisees are in outward service — they tithe mint and rue, and all manner of herbs, but pass by judgment and the love of God : " these ought they to have done, and not to leave the other undone." The comparative import- ance of these things is here set forth — in neglecting " the love of God " they ignored the one thing needful to put value on their other services. Well may we pray above the dry bones — " Come from the four winds, breath, and breathe upon these slain, that they may live." The discipline was strict in the church at Ephesus, which could not bear those that were evil. Even its patience and labour deserve honourable mention ; out- wardly its condition was satisfactory, but it had left its first love, the breath of life was wanting. Whatever grows upon the branches of our life is valueless, unless it be the spontaneous outcome of our connection with the true vine. A personal interest in Christ is the one thing needful to give life any real value. THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 359 III. Personal relation to Christ is the one thing needful to endure the trials of life. " Man is born unto trouble, as the sparks fly upward." Trouble then is inevitable in a sinful condition, in a corrupt world. " It is not an accident or variation of our being, but our lot and destiny," from which it is vain for us to hope to escape. But in order to endure all and to be " more than conquerors " in all, the one thing needful is a personal interest in Christ. We may glide easily, in virtue of a slight external impulse, along the levels of our life, we may go down the slopes ourselves, but if we mean to climb triumphantly over the rugged hills, we must link ourself to a mighty Saviour. Jesus Himself is not a stranger to suffering. He "'« the " Man of sorrows." His was not a life of ease ; His was not a velvety path. He was not perfected without suffering ; and without suffering His followers cannot attain perfection. He has given a new meaning to affliction, and has shown that every trial may serve the highest purpose. Is not this " the one thing needful" to endure ? " No chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous ; nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby." " Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad : for great is your reward in heaven." Here is shed a new light upon suffering. Our happiness is not dependent chiefly upon our surroundings, but upon our character. Indeed, the influ- ence of the surroundings seems to be determined by our 3«o THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. own condition : they leave upon us the impress we are prepared to receive. The man who is colour-blind can- not distinguish the different shades of colour around him, the deficiency, we presume, lying not in the outward phenomena but in the internal organ of vision. Is there not something analogous in the spiritual world ? Our circumstances influence us according to our individual character. Hearken to the Saviour's teaching — " For a man's life," or a man's happiness, " consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth." From the context, however, it is evident that it does depend upon the man's character. To believe this we have need only to look at the same man in different circumstances, or at different men in the same circumstances. No, it does not depend chiefly upon our surroundings. Our missionaries voluntarily deny themselves the advantages of civilization and the refined joys of social culture, and plunge into the midst of savageness, cruelty, and bar- barism. Are they happy ? A fellow-student of mine, who is now connected with the South Indian Mission, wrote me lately to say that he was as happy as ever. Where does the secret lie ? He has made a complete surrender of himself and his services to the Saviour, who sojourned unharmed among the beasts of the wilderness, and who can still preserve him from the raging fierceness of wild men and wild beasts, as happy as ever. The sweetest warbler among birds is heard in the night ; and this old Book tells us of other night- warblers. " I know that my Redeemer liveth." " The Lord gave, the Lord hath taken away : blessed be the name of the Lord." That is a nightingale's song which resounded in the dark gloomy THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 361 depths ot affliction. No, it does not depend chiefly whether you are in a fiery furnace or in a sumptuous feast; the presence of the Son of Man can make a heaven out of the fiery furnace, and His absence can convert the gorgeous hall of royalty into a miserable dungeon. Israel came in their wilderness journey ings to Marah, where they could not drink of the waters, for they were bitter. A serious calamity — must they die of thirst ? You suggest they ought to find a route without a Marah in it. No ; no need of that. The Lord showed them a tree, which, when cast into the waters, the waters were made sweet. Don't be deluded, you cannot have a wilderness journey without its Marah. But the text points out a tree that will sweeten the bitter waters — personal interest in Christ. He will not leave you long in the storm without lend- ing you a helping hand. Our Saviour, after feeding t^ five thousand, and sending the multitude away, went up into a mountain apart to pray. What were His petitionb we cannot tell ; but this we know — there was no vestige of hypocrisy in His prayers. What great concern con- nected with our salvation now weiglied upon His soul has not been recorded, but He must have been there in the depth of night, wrestling with His Father. Not far away His disciples have been caught in a terrific storm. They are battling with the raging elements; the waves are furious under tlie lash of the wind, and the yawning gulf of despair is opening to swallow them. Jesus, knowing their danger, left His Father, possibly left some petitions unsaid, in order to appear on the scene to help the dis- I 362 THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. tressed disciples — and " when He came into the ship the wind ceased." So it is ever since. He is " the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever." The one thing needful is a personal interest in Him who can still every tempest. IV. The one thing needful to face the great Hereafter. An hour is coming when this text will be an awful reality to us, whatever be the impression it leaves upon us at present. This will be the one concern, which will engross every other thought. We ask to-day, "What shall we eat ? wliat shall we drink ? wherewithal shall we be clothed ? " This side of anxiety, this is right. You ought to be concerned about the wants of the family. But an hour is approaching when you will be removed from that relation, and from that responsibility ; and one great question will absorb every other question in itself. I imagine that T now witness your last moments. Amid the pleasantest surroundings, amid all the attention of which earthly skill is capable, amid the tears of dear ones who will lament the loss ; your possessions disposed of to your survivors ; and you feel it is your last moment in this life — death with its cold hand makes you loosen your grasp on this transient world. But what then? Is it blank despair ? Is it blackness of darkness for ever ? Ah ! T see the hand of your faith lifted up in search of another Hand mightier than your own to lead you safely across the swellings of Jordan. That wanting, all will be wanting. However dark the great unknown beyond is to us — and we are often crushed by the fear to launch out into THE ONE THING NEEDFUL. 363 it — our only hope on the confines of time will be the assurance that Jesus is ruler there as well as here, and that they. that trust Him will never be plucked out of His hand. Do we know Him? Have we a personal interest in Him ? ( 364 ) 111 ^:>.i I LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. BY THE REV. THOMAS REES, MERTHYR. "Such .18 love Thy salvation." — Ps. xl. i6. Jl IP ill: 1 1 All who aro saved unto eternal life not only accept God's salvation from a sense of their absolute and urgent need of it, as the alone method that meets their case, but they fall in love with it, give it their best affections. They are so deeply enamoured of it that it becomes the object of their boundless admiration. Assuredly they love God for it ; but they are not apathetic, much less disaffected, towards the salvation itself. Experiencing its benign, restorative influences, they delight themselves in its Divine Author — " the God of their salvation ; " but they do not, cannot overlook the salvation itself. They cherish ardent love towards it. This fact is incontestable, verified as it is in the experience of the saved as well as taught in Holy Writ. It is as much the natural and necessary result of partaking of the fulness of its bless- ings as any ordained sequence can be. It cannot be shared in, and its blessed virtue enjoyed, without taking a deep hold on its possessor. This holds good under every dispensation. The Psalmist gives expression to this truth in the words of the text; it holds good still; LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. 365 and will hold good, not only to the end of time, but throughout the endless ages of eternity. " As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end." There are some things connected with true religion in the present world which are evidently subject to the law of change. They do not continue long the same. But the love of which the text speaks, love of God's salvation, continues unchanged, and will remain unaffected by the vicissitudes of the coming ages. There were some things intimately related, if not quite indispensable, to the existence and prosperity of the cause of true religion under the Old Dispensation, tliat are not so any longer. Indeed, their observance now would be an egregious sin. They were appointed " until the time of the reformation." And, doubtless, some things sustain a close and important relation to religion in our days, that will be entirely laid aside, if not before, at any rate in the Millennium. Scriptural piety will be so much better understood, in its deep spirituality, and such thorough sympathy with it will universally prevail, that it will outgrow much that is now in vogue, and discard things which we in our simplicity, or in our vanity, foolishly imagine to be essential to its subsistence, if not to its perfection. Have we not sufficient ground to conclude that Christianity is progressing steadily, though slowly, towards a much higher state of perfection on earth, and that its grand ideal will be realised in the good time coming in a much larger measure than has yet been attained ? Do not the predictions of inspired prophecy intimate this clearly enough, and does not analogy from the past unmistakably M I !l 366 LOVING GOD'S HALVATION, suggest the same ? Religion is not to continue for ever as we now see it, but it will be vastly improved as well as more extensively propagated. Hardly will our common Christianity be recognised then as the same, by reason of the great change for the better which it will have undergone. Blessed time ! It is difficult to refer to it without breathing a prayer for its speedy coming. But to return to our subject. Many things will bo connected with our holy religion, even at its best on the earth, that will be allowed to drop at the winding up of the Dispensation ; but the distinguishing characteristic spoken of in the text — love of God's salvation — will make its way to the higher, final state of the redeemed in glory, to live there for ever. Many things connected with religion once were dropped in the transition from the former economy to the present ; and many things connected with it now will be thrown away in the advance from the present state of the Church to the Millennial age ; and many more things will be discarded in the change from the then age to the final state of the Church in glory. But be the changes in the past what they may, the love of God's salvation has come down through them all ; and be the changes in the future what they may, this will survive every improvement ; and, having ended its course on earth, it will wing its way to heaven, to continue to burn there for ever. Loving God's salvation " never faileth." Hence it is of the Titmost importance to possess and cherish this gracious feeling. Let me avail myself of the opportunity of remarking by the way, that God has a salvation for us, the apostate LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. 367 race of Adam ; purposely provided for, as well as eminently fitted to, our case. This statement contains nothing new ; on the contrary, it is widely known and admitted. All that is in view is to bring it to remem- brance. Nevertheless, it is to be hoped that the fact of its being so well known does not render it less valuable or less acceptable ; otherwise, to say the least, it is not a favourable sign. If contact with this precious truth, by reading or hearing, is felt to be distasteful, it betrays something radically wrong ; for familiarity, instead of exciting our dislike, ought to have the opposite effect, that of kindling our love towards it. Such will be the immediate and inevitable result, if it be a truth of the heart. Some truths there are, in which we cannot experience the same pleasure by frequent communion with them. Truths of the intellect, of the reason, and of the imagination, like the facts and objects of sense, must lose their novelty and fascination by increased intimacy with them. They cannot, according to our mental constitution, retain the same hold on us by re- newing our acquaintance with them. It is quite the reverse, however, with the truths of the heart, to which class salvation belongs, if it has been actually applied to us individually. These truths never tire us, however often they are presented to us. Instead of our gratifica- tion diminishing the oftener they are addressed to us, this is the very means of increasing it. This is a test whether we love God's salvation. But even on the supposition that some of you are not especially interested in this subject, and that another not quite so common- place and antiquated, but more literary, scientific, or ill if 11' 3^8 LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. [>hiI()S()pliicnl, wore profeniblo, it is not in this instance a Hufficient reason for consulting your choice or gratifying your taste, for there is the most urgent need of introduc- ing this vital truth, and wo are under the most sacred and solemn obligations to give it publicity and promi- nence. Witlihold it we dare not at our peril, but incul- cate it continually ; for it is the sum and substance of the Gospel, its grand distinctive peculiarity, that makes it good news, glad tidings of great joy — the best news, the gladdest tidings of the greatest joy. The subject suggests a melancholy and distressing fact, a fact which required such a gracious divine interposi- tion, and which should not be passed by without noticing it distinctly, namely, that mankind are by nature in such an awful predicament, that we stand in imperative need of such a salvation. This is so manifest, and, more- over, so generally admitted, that it need not be proved, although it is practically denied by the greater number. We are no longer what we were made, what we ought to be, nor Vhat we must be ere it be well with us, here or hereafter. We are fallen ; become sinners, guilty and depraved ; full of the materials of misery, and of the elements of ruin. Our condition is most deplorable. We are represented in Scripture as lost and dead. What this language means we know not, except that it is certain that it imports all that is evil and woeful. No adequate conception of this can be had at present ; we must wait awhile, till we open the commentaries of the world to come, and learn there from the experience of heaven and hell. How slow we are to believe this, especially with regard to ourselves, personally, and lay m 1»'i, LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. 369 it seriously to our hearts, though we consent to its truth with the lips ! Tliis is the great reason why the salva- tion of God is so sadly neglected ; men are not convinced of, and made to feel, their great need of it. " The whole need not a physician, but they that are sick." But this point I shall now dismiss, in order to come to what is more agreeable and pleasurable, namely, the salvation which God has provided for us, and revealed to us in the Gospel. Of the tender mercy of God our condi- tion is not hopeless, however bad it is. He has under- taken for us, and provided a salvation adapted to all the requirements and exigencies of our case. Blessed be His name for this. This salvation is His workmanship; His impress is on every part of it, and on its whole history from beginning to end. It is divine in its origin, accomplishment, and application. It has flowed from his free, sovereign, everlasting love, and been planned by His great manifold wisdom. It is God's scheme. His infinite understanding discovered it. " Wherein He hath abounded towards us in all wisdom and prudence." Nor could the wisdom of the most exalted created intellisjences devise the plan. So many extensive and awful de- mands were to be met and satisfied ; so many supreme, righteous, and conflicting claims were to be considered, adjusted, and maintained ; such formidable obstacles were to be surmounted, that none but Divine Wisdom could find out a way to fulfil all these stupendous require- ments, and save fallen man. And it was God's Almighty power that brought it to pass. Each of the Divine per- sons in the ever-blessed Trinity fulfils His respective work in connection with it, and the praise and glory will 9 A ' I ^t" i! 370 LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. redound to the Triune Jehovah for over. And the word of this salvation has been sent to us. Now it might fairly be expected that all would accept it gratefully, appropriate it gladly, and love it dearly. But this is not the case. The greater number by far care nothing for it : instead of accepting it, they reject it; instead of making much of it, they slight it, though its immediate object is to promote their higher and ever- lasting well-being. Such conduct is extremely criminal ; it is the blackest spot on the character of our race. The multitude depreciate and neglect it ; they frown upon it as a needless intruder, if not as the enemy of their peace. However, all do not harbour these wrong feelings. Some are on better terms with it, and accord it a worthier re- ception. As sure as that many do not love this salvation, there are some who do, and their number continually increases. I would fain hope that the greater number who hear me to-day are sincere and thorough friends of God's salvation, and that all will be so before they die. The sooner the better. Those who are rightly affected towards God's salvation were not so once. Under the bewitching and cursed spell of the " deceitfulness of sin," which misleads so fatally, " there was neither form nor comeliness in it ; when they looked at it, there was no beauty that they should desire it." " It was despised and rejected, and they hid as it were their faces from it ; it was despised, and they esteemed it not." But a great change for the better, a complete revolution, has taken place in their views and feelings, rendering this salvation altogether lovely in their sight. It is now all their desire. They LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. 371 count all tilings else, oven what tlioy fc-rnorly niosk liighly esteonuul, as loss and dung that tlioy nmy gain it. Some love the salvation of (lod whilst others neglect it, but the strange thing is that both classes do the one and the other for precisely the same reasons. They find occasion in the same things to feel and act so difTorently towards it, that the one loves for the same reason that the other does not, and vice versa. Not otdy these two classes divide the world between th(;ni, for there is no neutrality in this matter, — he that does not love hates ; but what makes the one cherish it causes that the otluT dislikes it, saying, " My soul, come not thou into its secret." It attracts and n^pels, nudces foes and friends, for precisely the same reasons. However strange and paradoxical it may appear, it is nevertheless a sober, solemn truth. To make this clear, think of the Divine provisicm as a salvation in the true and full sense of the word — :i salvation in reality from the evil itself, from sin in every respect. Salvation is a delivemnce, not merely from sin in it3 fearful, ruinous consequences, — the curse, the wrath, the suffering, the woe, — but from the original, fruitful source of all this frightful misery, from that which neces- sarily incurs and righteously entails all this. This puts men's principles to the test, and divides them at once into two classes. A well-known reason why this salva- tion is hated is thnt it involves a deliverance from sin itself, in its dominion over us, in our love of it, and our living in it, as well as from the punishment which it deserves. Because it insists on this absolutely and un- compromisingly, and consists principally and essentially f 372 LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. in this, some will have nothing to do with it, whilst others view this as its strongest recommendation and give it their unswerving loyalty. That it promises and engages to deliver wholly from sin in itself invests it with invaluable importance in their eyes and infallibly secures their attachment. Let me not be Misunderstood. It is not attempted to deny that men love salvation in the sense of deliver- ance from the direful consequences of sin hereafter. That would betray unpardonable ignorance. No fact is more patent and incontrovertible than that men are in love with salvation in this vagae, outward, selfish sense. They cannot be otherwise. It is not requisite that a man should be born again in order to it. He need not be savingly changed by the grace of Heaven to make him wish to escape the wrath to come ; but it is absolutely necessary that h should be so changed in order to love the salvation of God. Man in his native state rejoices in the prospect of exemption from suffering. Indeed, he can do no other, constituted as he is, with self-love as a deep, original, and powerful principle in his nature, constraining him instinctively, independently of his will, in a way which he cannot help, to ardently desire his own safety and felicity. He is deeply averse to pain and perdition, and cannot endure the thought of them. This has clung tenaciously to him despite the violence done to his nature by sin. It is not a thing he has inherited in virtue of the Fall ; but is innate, interwoven with his nature, and quite legitimate to be indulged within certain bounds. It would appear, forsooth, that self-love, especially in LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. 373 the form of self-defence, is a universal law, relating to life of every sort, even the lowest in the vegetable crea- tion, and particularly in sentient existences, both on land and in the sea. This is so well established that it has passed into a proverb that " self-preservation is the first law of life." The sensitive plant is an instance in point. The sponge also may be adduced as auotlier : how to classify it is a moot question, lying as it does on the borders of the animal and vegetable kingdoms, partaking of properties that are common to both. Naturalists tell us that, in its native home in the deep, it will draw itself together of its own accord in order to escape destruction. Being often devoured by the fish for food, it quickly discovers their approach, and to protect itself against their marauding designs it contracts itself volun- tarily into a much smaller space than it can be squeezed into forcibly ; but the danger over, if it be fortunate enough to escape, it again expands itself into its usual size. It will not yield itself up to be devoured so long as it can help it. There is scarcely need to add, that no creature will willingly suffer, especially what threatens life, witii- out a hard struggle and a persistent resistance to the last. Linked as this instinctive feeling is with higher considerations, it operates powerfully in us. We dread pain, recoil from peril, and seek safety and happiness. " All that a man hath will he give for his life." Hence we find mankind generally coveting earnestly to be saved in the sense of escaping from misery and enjoying bliss. At least they choose heaven rather than hell, though they will not accept it in the only way in which it may be had, and the only way in which it is worth having. I a r t :i M .-'£: ) M ' M r ■ I' i. ', i 374 LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. As soon as in a manner they are in love with :alvation, they do not like the salvation of God — all of it — or even the chief thing in it. Their idea of it is most defective, if not positively erroneous. They have no sympathy with the salvation of the Gospel ; a salvation that would leave them in their sins, and only deliver them from punishment, is the one they covet. They are deeply in love with forgiveness of sins and immunity from suffer- ing their penal consequences, but they reject utterly the way in which all this may be secured. " You will accept pardon and safety," we say. " Oh yes, readily and gladly," they reply ; " assure us on satisfactory grounds that we have to fear no evil, and it will afford us the relief we require in order to be happy." " But what say you about conversion, contrition, com- punction of soul for sin, resisting, mortifying, and renouncing it, denying yourselves, doing the will of God ? &c." " There, that is more than enough ; that is why we are at variance with the salvation of God ; we wish to be spared all that drudgery, we have a decided objection to it." The truth is, they prefer not to be saved than part with their sins and practise that holiness which accompanies salvation ; whilst those who love God's salvation, love it for these very reasons, namely, that it slays sin within them and leads them on to purity of thought and life. This it is that recommends it to them and renders it the object of their love. What ! will not all join readily and heartily to adopt the language of the well-known verse — " Salvation ! oh the joyful sound, 'Tia pleasure to our ears " ? LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. 375 No, not quite. Many will not confess that the salvation of God is to them a " joyful sound," at least the whole of it, for it will not tolerate their iniquities, and they cannot tolerate it. There is no peace between it and their evil ; consequently there is no peace between them and it. Because it is a sworn enemy of their sin, they are inveterate enemies of it. However much they may desire to escape the penal consequences of sin and to enter never-ending joy at last, they are not ready to accept the same on God's terms by the utter renunciation of the world, the flesh, and the devil. That the word " salvation " implies deliverance from danger and distress, together with the fruition of happi- ness, is unquestionable ; but doubtless it implies a great deal more, especially in the New Testament. The original term, and its equivalents in English and Welsh, conveys the twofold thought of safe and sound. The idea of saving health lies at the root of the word, as its etymoiogy denotes. With this health is connected safety as its consequence or result. What ! is not deliverance, safety, the meaning of salvation ? Does not the dictionary, and even the Bible dictionary, explain it so ? Yes, probably, and under the circumstances nothing better perhaps could be done. But salvation notwithstanding is not mere deliverance. True, they are inseparably con- nected in God's method of mercy ; but, though they are not to be separated, yet they ought to be distinguished. What God has joined together, let no man put asunder ; and here, at least, no man can, however much he may try. This double meaning of the original word is the reason why the Welsh translators, in especial, render I i 376 LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. it sometimes " heal," and sometimes " deliver ; " and why they give the word " heal " in passages where the English version gives " save." For instance Heb. vii. 25, " He is able to save to the uttermost ; " Welsh, " heal completely." Again Eom. viii. 24 — " We are saved by hope ; " Welsh, " healed." Thus the salvation of God " forgives all our iniquities and heals all our diseases ; " it covers our sins and cures us from their infection; it restores our souls as well as remits our transgressions. Yes, salvation does mean rescuing from peril, and this favour is not to be liglitly thought of. There is a place of torment, an awful place, and it is of the greatest importance that we be delivered from entering it. There are not many, if any, living godly in Christ Jesus, who do not feel anguish of soul in thinking of it, and who do not make it the business of their lives to escape it. What to do to be saved in this respect must come home effec- tually to every heart before the salvation of God will be duly prized and gratefully embraced. But we should not rest satisfied with this, else we receive the grace of God in vain. However indispensable this experience may be to the spiritual life, it ought by degrees to be compara- tively lost ; at least that another greater — yes, I advisedly say greater — should supersede it and occupy its place, namely, what to do to be healed, to be spiritually well. A place of pure, unending blessedness lies beyond, and it is worth while going there, even on the vulgar view of it, as a place of rest in the absence of all pain and sorrow ; and salvation richly deserves to be made much of because it holds forth the hope of all this. But even " the ful- ness of joy and the pleasures for evermore " must be lost LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. 377 iseases : sight of, comparatively speaking ; and something else more important should absorb the attention, viz., to be made meet for the holy happiness of heaven ; for this latter cannot be imparted to us or enjoyed by us without our being jGrst made all we ought to be in all holy con- versation and godliness. To escape the darkness, the fire, and the flames, is not the greatest thing after all. Is it not ? No. What can be greater than that ? To be so rid of evil before we die that there will be no fear God will consign us to them. The place prepared for the devil and his angels is a place for incurables. Oh no; to arrive without fail in the land of rest, to feast and sing, is not the greatest thing. What can be greater ? To be made such by the salvation of God in this world, that He will be sure to receive us there at last, no other pk' :• suiting us. Strange to say, here men quarrel with the salvation of God instead of allowing it to do their proper work upon them by eradicating sin from their nature. But for this selfsame reason it is ardently loved by those whose hearts are in the right. To be taken up so exclusively with the outward, objective blessing, which after all is the inferior one, is a sad mis- take. We do not thereby consult our true and highest interest ; for what will it profit a man to escape the threatened infliction if a greater and more fatal evil afflicts him personally ? Confessedly, that is a very short-sighted prudence or policy which is entirely absorbed with the lesser favour while the greater is altogether neglected, besides the consideration that in this case it is totally suicidal. The old illustration shows this excellently. Suppose a convicted felo^x has been reprieved ; what is *M 378 LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. l! fii he better if a fatal disease afflicts him, that will speedily take away his life ? He shall not mount the scaffold, it is true, and expiate his crime by execution ; but he has caught the jail fever, and will die in agony soon. And how much better would the sinner be to escape the condign punishment he deserves and dreads, when he carries in him all the materials of the worst death, a heart full of sin and guilt ? The pain and anguish of this will constitute " the second death." Our highest wisdom therefore is to make it our first concern to be delivered from indwelling sin, then no harm can befall us. It is sin itself, not the punishment, that is the great evil. Once more I repeat, in dismissing this part of the subject, a safe arrival in heaven, according to the popular view, is not the chief thing. This would not advantage us much, without our being radically cured of moral evil in all its forms, and made spiritually well and sound. Possibly to reach heaven in safety is the great, if not the sole, object of many ; but how defective this view of sal- vation ! They fear the door will be closed against them — yes, this fear does haunt and disturb them a little occa- sionally. But if they had their heart's desire, what would they gain ? Emphatically this is not the greatest thing. The redeeming work of Jesus Christ did not consist in making of heaven a lumber-room, to receive all refuse ; but He became the Author of eternal salvation to as many as will obey Him, making them meet for the inheritance of the saints in light. You would not be happy even in heaven itself, unless the salvation of God effected its appropriate work on you and in you ; and the hope of LOVING GOD'S SALVATIOff. 379 tliis is the reason why it is loved by all who undergo the blessed process. Again, what has been sought to be proved, will be seen still further by adverting to the frccness of the salvation. This will further illustrate and establish the truth of my statement, for it is a well-known fact that God's salva- tion, by reason of its entire and absolute freeness, is at a discount on the one hand, and at a premium on the other. Next to the entire moral recovery it effects, its freeness alike stirs up hatred and produces love ; and men fall out and fall in with it for the selfsame reason. Because of its purely gracious nature some are gravely offended with it, whilst others are mightily pleased, inasmuch as they know that it is on this condition that it meets their need. This characteristic of the Divine remedy proves a rise and a fall to many, rendering it the savour of life unto life and the savour of death unto death. The evil of the human heart takes occasion to reject this salvation, because its perfect freeness mortifies the pride of the self-righteous spirit, laying it in the dust, which, however, it will not brook. But if the high minded thus turn away from it with disdain, its freeness is the very means of ingratiating it in the favour of its recipients. Salvation by grace gives hope to the poor, needy, and lost sinner, who is conscious of his great misery, unworthiness, and ill-desert. How highly he prizes this graciousness ! How greatly it enhances the value of the salvation in his sight ! How it cheers, relieves, supports him ! It imparts unspeakable joy, and inspires loyal love. If its gratuitous freeness spoils it to blind, conceited unbelief, the selfsame pecu- i < I i 38o LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. liarity makes it doubly precious to the believer, and evokes his devoutest affection. It is wonderful how much lapsed man is for having a hand in his own salvation, by doing or paying some com- pensation. He is for coming to an agreement or making a bargain with God ! There is a strong tendency to legalism in man's nature, and he would much like to make terms with his Maker, His favourite scheme is to compound with God. He confesses readily that he is an offender; but what he deems most objectionable is — that he cannot make any amends or reparation for his trans- gression, or conciliate Him whom He has displeased. Man is not willing to acknowledge that he is so bad or his case so desperate as represented in the Gospel. From the truth with regard to this he turns away and goes after fables. He desires to propitiate the Deity, and addresses himself to this task when conviction of sin dis- turbs him. It is an old custom of his to seek to estab- lish his own righteousness, not knowing the righteousness of God in His holy law, nor submitting to His righteous- ness in the Gospel. Though fallen and lost, he has overweening conceits of himself and his goodness, and under-estimates the enormity of sin and his own corrup- tion. He cannot brook the idea that he is so bad as depicted in Scripture. Consequently he is most averse to be wholly indebted to free sovereign grace for his sal- vation. He would much like to have some consideration in his favour, and to improve himself a little. But God will have nothing to do with him on this ground. Man cannot merit or procure any l^lessing connected with LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. 581 his recovery, and God will have him to see and confess it. The great God will not enter into partnership with the sinner in this matter, and it His object to exclude boast- ing save in His own infinite grace. He wants man to feel his entire indebtedness to free grace. His salvation is directly intended and specially fitted to impress this on the mind. Indeed, this is an essential part of our individual recovery. It is the peculiar glory of gospel grace to humble every believer in the dust, to fill him with dreadful apprehensions of sin, to raise him from his lost state, to establish him in the truth of obedience, and bind him to God by the ties of gratitude and love. He will willingly and freely give all we want. " Ask and ye shall receive." God is too rich and generous to do any- thing but give gratuitously. He knows not the way to do anything else but to give. Salvation may be had freely, for nothing ; and only so can it be obtained — for the mere receiving. He never tires of giving. It is His favourite employment. He giveth liberally, and upbraideth not. And all is to the praise of the glory of His grace. Is there room to fear that this is not sufficiently understood ? Is it a fact that even those who have been trained in the doctrines of grace endeavour to smooth and settle things with the supreme Arbiter of their destiny ? Does not the language of professing Christians savour too much of this occasionally ? We live too much under the law, either from ignorance or perverseness. The prin- ciple of self-righteousness is so universal, pervasive, subtle, and stubborn, and, moreover, so flattering and insinuating, that we stand in hourly danger from its influence. Not only is it in the ascendancy in the heart 382 LOVING GOD'S SALVATION, 11 a S' i of the natural man, but it follows the believer and dis- turbs his peace. It accompanies him when alone in the most secret places, kneels with him when engaged in prayer, and mingles its whispers with his song of praise. It stains his best service ! How hard to get rid of it ! However, the clear and uniform teaching of the Gospel is, that we are to accept, appropriate, and trust in a free salvation — free as the air and the light — free like all God's gifts. We need nothing to recommend us to it except our misery and poverty and urgent need. Instead of the greatness of our sins disqualifying us, it is our chief fitness for it ; we should convert the greatness of our need and unworthiness into a plea for its succour. "God hath exalted His Son to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance and remission of sins." " By grace ye are saved." What a relief to the guilty penitent to ex- perience God's salvation ! And it is a relief to God to give it ! His delight is unbounded when virtue flows out of Him into some sinful heart. He saves with singing. It is a scriptural doctrine that God is blessed because He is holy, but it is equally orthodox that He is blessed because of His goodness, because He gives and finds delight in giving. "It is more blessed to give than to receive," and this is truer of the Creator even than of the creature. It is in His heart to give. Is not this one reason why the creative fiat went forth, and a universe was called into existence ? God's infinite love impelled Him to create that He might find objects to whom He might communicate of His own blessedness. " But we must believe to be saved," you say. Yes ; but let not this be misunderstood or perverted at pur i|. LOVING GOD'S SALVATION, 383 peril. We are saved by faith. Why is this the medium ? " It is by faith that it miglit be of grace." Believing is absolutely necessary, not because there is the least merit in it, but the opposite — because there is no merit in it, nor any claim to merit, and that its very nature is to renounce entirely all merit, and that the salvation of God must be accepted as a free gift. This is the reason why faith discharges the office it does. It is not fixed upon in preference to any other mental act for its present holy nature, or on account of its future holy influence, but because it is the farthest possibly removed from any appearance of goodness, possessing no resem- blance of a claim to merit. It just "sets to its seal that God is true." " God justifieth the ungodly." Wo are saved by faith, but faith does not save. Can faith save ? By it we come to Christ, but we come to Him for salvation. Again, is there no mention in Scripture of buying in connection with our salvation ? Doubtless, in the most explicit and emphatic manner. " I counsel thee to buy of Me gold tried in the fire." " The kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure hid in a field ; the which, when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field." " Again the kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant- man seeking goodly pearls ; who, when he hath found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it." " Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters ; and he that hath no money, come ye, buy and eat ; yea, come, buy wine and milk, without money and without price." Poverty is no disqualificationj for no .384 LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. II ilffl business can bo transacted here if wo have either " money or price." Assuredly this is strange buying — no otlier like it. There must be money or price always among us in order to buy ; but here is buying witliout either. What sort of buying must it bo ? Why any mention of buying when tlie wliole affair is so unlike everything of the kind ? Nevertheless there must be some resemblance in the process to buying, otherwise it would not have been thus described. Wherein then docs it consist ? In this : there is a barter, an exchanging of one commodity for another, — parting with something and having some- thing else in its stead — putting away and receiving in return. And. blessed be God, it is a most convenient as well as a most profitable transaction for us. If we bring to this salvation our darkness, we shall have its light ; our poverty, we shall have its riches ; our guilt, we shall have its pardon ; our misery, we shall have its happiness ; our condemnation, we shall have its righteousness ; our death, we shall have its life. If we part with what is of no good to us, yea, what wut be our everlasting ruin, we shall have what will be our greatest gain for ever ; we shall have heaven for our hell. And if this mortifies the pride of the self-righteous spirit, causing it to chafe and murmur, all who are convinced of sin, and feel its guilt and turpitude, gladly welcome the Divine provision to restore us to health as well as to righteousness, and on this account love it dearly. The five hundred talents may thus be forgiven as well as the fifty ; " and when they had nothing to pay he frankly forgave them both." And having had much forgiven, they cannot help loving much, LOVING GOD'S SALVATION. 385 Allow mo to ask you ero I closo, What do you lovo most— your sins, or God's salvafion ? You sliall Imvo for ever what yf)U lovo most. Salvation piodainis, "1 lovo thoin that lovo nic, and those that seek me early shall find me." God grant that we bo all brought to lovo Ilis Balvtttion 1 ( 386 ) LAW DEVELOPING SIN. BY THE REV. EVAN PHILLIPS, NEWCASTLE-EMLYN. "Moreover the law entered, that the offence might abound. "- Rom. v. 20. The Apostle begins the present argument in verse 12, " Wherefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin," breaking off here for the time with- out bringing in the parallel truth. We might have expected him to say, " As by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, so also through some other man righteousness entered into the world, and life by righteousness." But no ; instead of going straight on to complete the comparison, he turns aside for a while to show the universal and lamentable effects of sin on humanity. St. Paul was sufficiently acquainted with the continent of Divine truth to be able to wander at will in whichever direction he pleased without losing sight of the cardinal points. To put a man unacquainted with a country half a mile from the main road would make his safe return somewhat doubtful. Many are in this state in respect of Gospel truths. Place them a little out of the usual course, the path that has been reddened by the constant tramp of generations, and they LAW DEVELOPING SIN. 387 are quite unable to find tlieir way back "again. But Paul could venture to take a by-road or a lane to reach a by-purpose, and then return safely to the place whence he started. This involved style of his causes, as Peter says, that many of his writings are hard to be under- stood. At the close of the 14th verse he comes again in contact with his main purpose, that the reader might not lose sight of it, and to show that he knew exactly his whereal)Outs — " who is the figure of Him tliat was to come." But instead of going on to prove their resem- blance, he again digresses to show first their unlikeness. " But not as the offence, so also is the free gift. For if through tlie oft'ence of one many be dead, much more the grace of God, and tlie gift by grace, which is by one man, Jesus Christ, hath abounded unto many. And not as it was by one that sinned, so is the gift ; for the judgment was by one to condemnation, but the free gift is of many offences unto justification." If the free gift were only able to meet the world's misery in respect of the one offence, the " gift " and the " offence " were equal. But mankind have to the first offence added *' many offences ; " and the " free gift " of God in Christ outweighs this terrible multiplication. Sin has suc- ceeded in making high marks on the walls of the universe, but grace has succteded in making higher marks still. In the 1 8th verse we find him ai^ain returninfj to his chief purpose, namely, to show that the two men — the first Adam and the second — were in one respect similar. ** Therefore as by the offence of one judgment C9.me upon 388 LAW DEVELOriNG SIN, all men to condemnation ; even so by tlie righteousness of one the free gift came upon all men unto justification of life." It will be seen that the offence stands alone, and, so to speak, in isolation in these sentences. "Moreover the law entered, that the offence might abound." There was but " one " offence from Adam to Moses, for there was no law to be transgressed, that is, no covenant. God made a covenant with Adam as the representative of mankind ; but that covenant Mas l)r()ken in pieces, so that to reconstitute it again was for ever impossible. Man, tlKM'efore, had no covenant to break in the period indicated ; and man knows nothing historically and experimentally of law outside a covenant. God gave His law to the sea, to the birds, to the animals, and to the fishes, without saying a word to them : they were too small for Him to enter into covenant with them. r)Ut man was created on so large a scale that God could not legislate for him without covenanting with him. The " offence," in the Apostle's sense here, was not possible to man in the absence of a covenant. Maidvind from Adam to Mc es were daily adding to the mass of their corrujttion, but the offence continued to remain " one " and the same all through. However, in the time of Moses we find mankind a^jain bronii:ht under a covenant — "the law entered." " The law entered that the offence miiiht abound." The words teach that the law entered to develop the evil of the race — to draw out sin. The givino' of the law occasioned this ; sin could not but be unfolded in the presence of law. Put this little word " that," it would LAW DEVELOPING SIN. 389 appear, retains its primary and usual meaning — with a view, for a purpose. Not only the giving of the law occasioned the evolution of sin, but caused it. The law entered for the purpose of making sin abound. Let us look upon the law as developing sin in this twofold sense. I. The giving of the law occasioned the development of sin. I. Si/i always revives in the presence of law. "When the comniiindment came, sin revived." The pure and fiery light of the commandment awakes it, excites it, and draws out its energies. It awakes like a strong man after wine at the flash of the lightnings and the sound of the thunders of Sinai. Sin in the Israelitish nation had been sleeping during the plagues of Egypt, their departure from the land of bondage, their passage through the lied Sea ; and the trials and troubles they encountered iluriiig their journey in the wilderness from the shores of the lied Sea to Mount Sinai, only made sin dream lit'uUy and say an occasional angry word between wakefulness and sleep, just enough to show that it only wanted oppor- tunity to rouse itsidl' and tyrannise more invfully than ever over human nature, lint when the nation nvrived in the wilderness of Sin;ii, they received directions to prepare for the inarvellous exhibition of the Divine glory which wris about to take place. Soon the trumpet sounds, the mountain wears a threatening aspect, the elements grow frightfully wild, and the lii^ht touch of the foot of Godheatl on the rugged ridge of the mount makes the foundations of Arabia shake. From the midst of the .1 '■ \ 390 LAW DEVELOPING SIN. sublime uproar the law is proclaimed. The people fear, and quake, and beseech that Moses may speak to them, and not God, lest they die. It might have been thought that sin had received such a deep wound that it would never again be able to raise its head while any who were then present were alive, and that tlie nation, under the influence of the thought of God's wonderful and fearful visitation to it, would sanctify itself more and more through the centuries. But no ; listen to the narrative, which is more surprising than the proclamation itself of the law. "They made a calf in those days." They wor- shipped a god of their own make amid the brightness of the Divine Presence. Wonderful ! Yes, but it was only the necessary consequence of the giving of the law. Sin is still the same. The young man is not conscious of the enmity of his heart to God when the command- ment does not shine upon his conscience. His enndty is like the match in his waistcoat pocket. There is fire in it, but it is latent fire, fire asleep. It only needs to be brought into contact with something liarder than itself to become a flame. It is just the same in respect of the young man : his guilty heart is full of the fire of enmity, but it is asleep. When he comes to rub against God's law and justice, his placid heart will blaze up in hatred dire and intense. The presence of law always makes sin awake, rise, gird itself, and rebel. Sin " takes occasion by the commandment " to develop itself. " The law entered that the offence might abound." 2. The entrance of the law occasioned the development of sin, because man cannot he developed withoiU developing his sin. The relation between man and his sin is so LAW DEVELOPING SIN. 391 sm IS so close that it is impossible to unfold him without laying bare at the same time the turpitude of his nature. This principle manifests itself everywhere in the world. If it has unfortunately happened that tares liave been sown in yonder field mixed with the wheat, all the influences which promote the increase of the wheat of necessity promote the growth of the tares likewise. The richness of the soil, the heat and the rain, all combine to develop the weeds as well as the pure grain. They are so related to one another that they must be developed simultaneously. If the farmer wishes to see his wheat grow, he must bow to the inevitable and be content for the tares to grow too. Look at the young babe. There is nothing his father and mother desire more than to see him growing in stature and wisdom. Nothing would sooner break their hearts than to behold his growth retarded, without hope of seeing his little hands gaining strength, without sign of the brain beginning to blossom and making his little eyes sparkle with the inner radiance. But what joy it gives the family to witness his gradual development under the dispensation of the cold water and the nourishing pro- perties of the mother's milk. Well, if the little one is to be developed, his sin must be developed with him. As true as he will be a three-feet man he will be a three- feet sinner the same time. Impossible to develop the one without the other. The internal enemies of many a countiy in Europe in these days — Ireland, for example — would not be nearly as had, as formidable as they are, were it not for the educational advantages they have enjoyed. The danger and the horribleuess of their deeds 39a LAW DEVELOPING SIN. increase in the same proportion as their knowledge, and especially their scientilic knowledge. In the face of that, were it not better to keep all knowledge from them ? Oh no ! that is not the method of the Divine Government of the world. The voices of nature, providence, and inspiration teach the contrary. Humanity umst be developed, thouL^li that be impossible without developing its sin. And inasmuch as the law entered to develop man, it of necessity therefore occasioned the development of his sin likewise. II. The law entered for the purpose of developing sin. " The law entered that the offence mi.ht abound." I. It entered in order to develop sin in its licmousncss and fryjhtf Illness, so that the evil of its nature as it strikes afiainst God and as it militates against the happiness of God's creation might be made patent to all. There is deceitfulness in sin. It wears a garment so fair and attractive that no creature is free from the damper of being bewitched by it. Its blight and gay attire deceived even the angels of God amid" all the glory of His immediate presence. It captivated our lirst parents, inducin'T them to forsake the Paradise of God for the howlinu' wilderness in order to follow it. Sin was haviuLi- fair weather before the law entered. Only a few entertained doubts as to its respectability and dignity The earth was sitting quietly under its heavy and torpid authority. But at last there dawned the day of its visitation. In the presence of God's lioly law the splendour of its raiment begins to fade ; its horrible look makes many refuse it their loyalty any longer. The LAW DEVELOPING SIN. 393 terrible fissure in the creation is widening. God's holy creatures — His cherubim and seraphim are on their winL;s, like frightened doves, hastening to nestle nearer the throne of the Eternal than ever before. The entrance of sin supposes the entrance of all the dispensation of the Old Testament, whicli terminated in the advent of Clirist Himself, His sufferings, and His death on the Cross on account of sin. And there, on the Cross, was finished the work of stripping sin of all its seemingly beautiful robes. When sin appeared before the law, which could not spare the Only-begotten Son whilst bearing upon Him the sin of the world, it was robbed of the last rag of dignity that clung to it, and thenceforth it stood in all the nakedness of its shame before an astonished universe. 2. It entered for the purpose of devclopinr/ its streufjth, in order to win a complete victory over it and accomplish its destruction. God is not afraid of sin. It is a source of wonderment how He allowed sin to enter His empire at first, and how He afforded it every opportunity to fortify and establish itsidl'. But he is not, I repeat, alraid of sin. This is the gladdest news that ever fell on the ears of a guilty world — the God who made us is more than a conqueror over our sin. l>y the time of the Incarnation sin had been fully drawn out — completely developed. It is probable tliat corrupt religion could not before, and can never again, produce such a court as the court of the high priest in Jerusalem. There is no liO[)e that Paganism will ever again produce such a faithful representative of itself as I'ontius Pilate. Hell will never again see the day when 394 LAW DEVELOPING SIN. I h f ' it can steel and whet a tool so dangerous as Judas IscariQt. By this time sin was fully developed. All the hosts of sin are on the field in tlie memorable struunle with the Prince of Life, so that the foe can never com- plain, after losing the battle, that all his forces were not on the spot. All the armies of the kingdom of darkness had confederated together on Golgotha. The story of the battle is known to every Welshman, ?'^'^ of the great victory won that memorable afternoon when He " blotted out the handwriting of oidinances that was against us, which was contrary to us, and took it out of the way, nailing it to His cross ; and having spoiled principalities and powers, He made a show of them openly, triumphing over them in it." Sin still continues the war, it is said. It still shoots, and many of our country's youth are rea])ed down by its guns. True ; but it only shoots to cover its retreat — shoots like a coward, shoots and runs at the same time. Let us therefore take heart ; let us arm ourselves with all the armour of God that we may pursue and help to drive it out of the world. There is a complete victory over sin to every one that believetb in Christ. To reluse to believe is now the only sin that will keep a man out of the kingdom of God. Neither the number of our sins nor their magnitude is to be mentioned beside His merit. "We are not alraid to preach abundance of grace. Nothing is so likely to make a man hate his sin as a full view of the infinite grace of God. Well, here is plenty of grace. Let us beware that we abuse it not. We are continually brushing against the Gospel grace, and the mark thereof will be on us evermore somewhere. There is room to fear that some LAW DEVELOPING SIN, 395 will be seen with the relics of grace like phosphorus on their robes in the outer darkness, moving like dim lanterns through the deep ravines of the land of unutterable woe. Let us remember tliat notliing will cover our sins but Christ's infinite merit. "We may forget them for a while. Like a man travelling through a country ; a mountain hero and there may be seen twenty or more miles off, but many smaller hills have been lost in the distance. So in our journey through the world, an occasional sin we com- mitted stands out conspicuous at the end, perhaps, of forty years, but a million smaller sins liavc sunk out of sight in the distance. Let us not forget the important truth that we shall be again raised some day to an emin- ence sufficiently high to see every inch of the way we have travelled. What ought we to do in the face of such a consideration ? We ought to cry to God to lift the floodgates of the infinite merit of Jesus Christ, and let the seas of His grace overflow the land we have traversed ; and the tops of the highest mountains will soon be covered, and we shall sing jubilantly on the shore, for we shall never see our foes again. i! Sit:- ^' W ii, ( 396 ) Hi' ■. m \. i l<; 'til' aiH! ' I Till': GOSPEL A REVELATION. BY THE REV. W. MORRIS, ST. DOGMELL's, CARDIGAN. •'Neither liiivo entered into the heart of man the tilings which God hath prepared for thcni that love Him."— 1 Con. ii. 9. By tlio tilings which God hath prepared for them that love Him, is here intended the Gospel in the wealth of its blessings, not only the blessings which await them in another world, but also the blessings necessary to their comfort in this. Of these Paul avers in the context that they are such in their nature that man in the strength of reason could never discover them. Tlie eye had seen nmch, but it had seen nothing like these. The ear had heard much more than the eye had seen, but it had heard nothing to be compared to tliese. The heart pictures creations greater and more wonderful than the eye has ever seen or the ear heard ; but sucli truths as the Gos])el declares never entered it. These truths belong to a higher world ; they are the fruit of God's wisdom, His hidden wisdom. His deepest thought. They were thus of neces- sity a mystery to man, infinitely above his highest soar- ings, such that the most daring mind in its boldest flights could never guess or conjecture. THE GOSPEL A KEVELATION. 397 I. It novor entered the lienrt of nmn tlmt those thincrs would come from the source tli(>v did — from God. Inasmuch as man's ideas of God, throiijjfh the ncres, apart from Ilevelation, sprang more from liis own evil heart than from the clear teachinj' of Nature, to ima'^ne our salvation would flow from the source it did was itn- possible to him. After man sinned, lie changrd God into his own image and likeness — to the ininge of his own corrupt mind, and to the likeness of his own fi-ail l)ody. That is one reason why the pagan chooses a God of his own colour — why the black nifin chooses a hliiek god. His conception of God is the deification of his own self, and that as a rule in what is basest in him. 'J'ho gods of the heathen consequently were perfectly destitute of those properties from which the Gospel blessings could flow — from the Holiest of All tlu^ river of lile nlways comes. They were destitute of holiness, a quality entirely lost from the Gentile world, so entirely that no true idea of it existed, so entirely indeed that its very name was missing. In all the literature of the heathen world, a proper word cannot be found to set forth the idea contained in the Bible term " holiness." It is difllcult to-day to make the pagan conceive what it really means. His religion, throughout all the ages of its history, has not risen high enough to convey this idea to him, or to produce in actual life a single saint. Heathenism has its heroes, but it has no saints. The gods were also destitnte of love. Inasmuch as purity was lost out of the world, love was also lost — love in its highest sense. Its name also was missing. True, there were words signifying what is misnamed love, but 1 m fiii 4 ^ 'kmi [ 398 THE GOSPEL A REVELATION. not the love from which these things could spring. Such a love cannot exist independently of holiness — it is, per- haps, the product of holiness. Accordingly the pagan gods were notorious for their cruelty and their lack of tenderness ; for, as with men, the more unclean the more fierce. The idols wore a ferocious look, and in their hands held weapons of destruction. They were objects to cause horror ; hence " fear " was the chief characteristic of heathen religions. As a result, the world was without hope, and dense darkness covered the people ; for after darkening the sun, whence will come the light ? without love, whence will flow mercy and grace ? It were easier to imagine light issuing from darkness, or creation from nothingness, than that " these things," of which the text speaks, should proceed from a fountain so bitter. A merciful and gracigus God was to the pagan an improbable, if not an impossible, conception. But Divine Revelation proves that the Dayspring visited us from behind the lowering clouds which seemed full of thunders and light- nings, that the Sun of Righteousness arose with healing in His wings in a quarter that no one ever dreamed of. II. It never entered the heart of man that these things would come in the way they did. Every great mind is original. No one can guess beforehand which way he will take to accomplish his purposes. " For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts, saith the Lord." The way He took to save the world — by the incarnation of the Word and the death of Immanuel — was so strange, that no one THE GOSPEL A REVELATION. 399 could imagine or dared imagine it but Himself. That God would come at all witliin the limits of time and space appeared too contradictory for the human reason to cherish it for a moment; how much more that He would be born a babe and die the cursed death of the Cross ! " And without controversy great is the mystery of godli- ness." Not only is it so great that man could not in his own strength discover it, but it is so great that, after being revealed, it baffles man to comprehend it. Not because it had not had plenty of time and oppor- tunity was the world unable to imagine the Divine method of saving it. The Gentiles as well as the Jews were being prepared for tho fulness of time. As the Mosaic economy was preparing the Jew, so nature and providence were preparing the Gentile, and the intellect of the one was being tested even as the faith of tho other. God had in view in all the Second Man — all was being made for Him. As the work of the first six days was a prophecy of the first man, so everything subsequently was a prophecy of the second. As in the Roman empire a road was leading from every province to the metropolis, so from every department of nature and providence there is a path to Bethlehem. The light was shining in darkness, but the darkness comprehended it not. The idea was in the world, but the world knew it not. The men to whom the world still looks up, who could penetrate into the secrets of mind and matter with a subtilty unsurpassed before or since, failed to see it. This idea the princes of this world knew not ; and, therefore, like every idea truly great, it had to struggle hard to maintain its hold. Though knocking at the doors of poets and philosophers, tmi^s"" ifflISi ' R*^ 1 P' 1 ill. •' 400 THE GOSPEL A RR] ELATION. yet the reception accorded it was very unworthy. No one divined its message. It was feared by some, and misunderstood by all. Books are being written in these days to which we see no object save to diminish tlie originality of the great mystery of godliness. The autliors sec hints of these Christian truths, they say, in the aspirations of the heathen poets. It is doubtless true that the misery of the world, and the total failure of every scheme to ameliorate it, caused a few thinkers among the most civilised njitious to long for a Redeemer ; nevertheless they could not, with their particular conceptions of the gods, imagine anything like what we have in the Gospel. The incarnations and sacrifices of the heathen world are but vanity compared with the incarnation of the Word and the death of Immanuel. These ideas stand alone with nothing like them among any nation. They descended from heaven — they could not have ascended from the earth. The aspirations w^hich dimly shone amid the darkness of the heathen world, leaving it darker than before, but more strikingly exhibited the originality of " the things " revealed unto us in the New Testament. When the Gospel appeared, it was so different from anything the Gentile had thought that he deemed it foolishness, and that all who embraced it were weak-minded. And it was so different from everything the Jew had conceived, the Jew who had enjoyed better advantages — advantages indeed that God could not improve on them — that it was despicable in his sight and an offence to him. " We preach Christ crucified," says the Apostle, " unto the Jews a stumblingblock, and unto the Greeks foolishness." THE GOSPEL A REVELATION. 401 Thr V uth is — the Gospel is so divine a conception that it Ja7.7ies the wise of this world into blindness. The widdom of the wise is destroyed, and the understanding of the prudent is brought to nought, by its brightness, that no flesh should glory in God's presence. His smallest thoughts. His thoughts in nature, perplex man. What then about His great thought, the thought He conceived and brought forth in the silence and solitude of eternity, the thought that will fill with amazement and praise saints and angels for ever ? No ; it never entered the heart of man that " these things " would come in a way so strange. III. It neVor entered the heart of man that these things would come to the CEGREE they did. Not only man was unable to conjecture beforehand the way God would take to accomplish His purposes, but he was also unable to divine beforehand the contents of those purposes — that they contained a provision ample enough to meet the requirements of all nations without difference. Indeed, Paul considered the fact that Christ was preached to the Gentiles a sufficiently great mystery to be put side by side with the Incarnation. This inability on the part of man is the effect, not of his little- ness, but of his wickedness. Sin makes him selfish. This is one of its first and universal characteristics. No tendency sooner manifests itself in men under its sway than that to despise all outside their own clan. Consequently men of old took for granted that they were the represen- tatives of all true nobility ; whereas others had grown from the earth like grass, they had descended from the 2 c 402 THE GOSPEL A REVELATION. gods. Hence wars and slavery. After the family developed into a nation, selfishne&s came to be considered a virtue under the name of patriotism. This constituted the chief virtue of the Gentile world. No law was recosfnised as between different nations but that of the Welsh proverb — " Let the strong steal, let the weak cry." {Trecha treisied, gwana givaedded.) The Romans deemed all outside the empire enemies, and believed they ought to be vanquished and made slaves ; and once made sla^^es, they were of less value in their eyes thar^ Mio beasts which perish. They decreed death as a punishment for killing an ox ; but for kill- ing a slave not even a fine was inflicted. Similarly the Greeks judged all outside their own nation to be bar- barians, who ought to be roltbed and slain, A faithful expression of the national feeling was given by one of their wise men when he said that he was thankful that he was a man, not an animal ; a male, not a female ; a Greek, not a barbarian. And though one of their great lights rose so high as to picture a republic, where some classes of every nation would be on terms of equality ; and though some of their kings strove to bring under one government the various nations of the earth ; yet none had taught that every man could or should enjoy the same privileges, religious and civil. The Jews likewise were animated by the spirit of exclusiveness — they deemed all others Gentiles, unclean and worthless. Notwithstanding all their advantages they failed to rise above the nationalism of the old world, and consequently uiisinterpreted their function in history. " One Jew," tpught the Rabbis, " is worth more in the sight of Gocl THE GOSPEL A REVELATION, 403 than all the Gentiles." " All others who have sprung from Adam are but as spittle," was another cf their proverbs. Their prejudice was a wall of separation between them and all other peoples. They could not allow the dogs outside to pick up even their crumbs. The idea of a Missionary Society would be impossible for a Jew to invent. When the Bible was translated into Greek, the Jewish nation considered it a calamity so great as to require a fast-day to be entered in the calendar. The prophets were roughly handled for venturing to predict that the Gentiles would be par- takers of the blessing. But for the intervention of Hezekiah the king, the poDulace would have killed Micah the prophet for teaching it. And we have room to believe that for this very thing some of the prophets were martyred. The Jews were so narrow and blind as to believe that God cared for none but themselves. And rather than think otherwise, the elder brother prefers to be without the feast unto this day than sit down with his younger brother who has lived prodigally — " he is angry, and will not go in." Thus sin had unfitted men to discover a truth so universal as the Gospel, and even to understand it after being revealed. Notwithstanding that this truth of universality has been impressed on all God's works, and that it was revealed by the prophets in language clear and unmistakable, vet it is a mournful fact that the Jews failed to apprehend it. Indeed, Christ failed to get, not only the Jewish nation, but even His own dicniples, properly to lay hold of it. To be told by Him that the Divine love was universal ; that all men were children of 404 THE GOSPEL A REVELATION. the same Father ; that He had other sheep which were not of the Jewish fold, but which He meant to bring home ; and lastly, that they were to go to all the world and preach the Gospel to all nations without distinc- tion : all this completely nonplussed them. Spite of this minute revelation in words by the Son, the truth would have continued a mystery to them had not God revealed it to them by His Spirit — by His Spirit, not in His ordinary but in His extraordinary influences, and very extraordinary indeed. The outpouring on Pentecost did not suffice. Though it might be supposed that Peter, for example, under its stimulating effects, had an insight into it when he said, " Unto you is the promise, and unto your children, and unto all them that are afar ofi^," yet we subsequently find him so blind to his duty towards those who were afar off as to oblige the Lord to adopt exceed- ingly novel measures to enlighten him. One day whilst praying — praying, I suppose, for the success of the Gospel — there came upon him a great hunger, so great that he fell into a trance or a deep sleep. Wo sometimes see more in our sleep than in our waking hours. And he saw the heavens opened, and a vessel as it were a great sheet descending to the earth, wherein he saw all manner of quadrupeds, and wild beasts, and creeping things — a very loathsome sight to a Jew. As soon as he began as it were to withdraw lest he would be defiled, a Voice from heaven came to him, saying, " Rise, Peter, kill and eat." " And he answered. Not so. Lord, for I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean " — I had rather die of hunger than touch creatures so repulsive. The greatuetis of hia desire for the success of the Gospel not- THE GOSPEL A REVELATION. 405 withstanding, he was not "billing to share his privileges with the Gentiles. And the Voice had to repeat to him three times in succession — " What God has cleansed, that call not thou common ; " the whole world is now con- secrated. A strange way to get a narrow Jevv out of his exclusiveness ! Revelation after revelation was necessary. " How that by revelation," says St. Paul, " He made known unto me the mystery, that the Gentiles should bo fellow-heirs, and of the same body, and partakers of His promise in Christ by the Gospel." Tliongh our advantages are numerous and important, yet this truth is not properly understood by many in our day. How slowly great truths make their way in the world ! What Celsus taught in the second century is being repeated in the nineteenth, viz., that to suppose that every nation can be brought to worship the same God is absurd. Some still object to a Gospel which destroys all distinctions between class and class, like the lady who made this complaint to Lady Huntingdon against Whitfield's ministry. Some are still reluctant to believe that their case is as bad as that of others, like that gen- teel congregation which was offended with Wesley for preaching to them from the text, " generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come ? " " In Newgate," they remarked, " he ought to have preached like that, not to us." The slave trade is still a force. Though formally abolished, its spirit still survives, and the negro is put under a social and religious ban. All are not willing, even in this age, that the dew of God's blessing should fall outside their little garden. The old objections are even now being revived in certain 1 »' 4o6 THE GOSPEL A REVELATION. circles that to attempt to evangelise the heathen is sheer waste, that they lie outside the scope of the Gospel. Yes, men there are in the nineteenth century doing what Peter said he did once — hindering God, preventing His grace to have free course. Such blind fatuity ! The man who would try to stop the clouds to rain ^.ud the sun to shine outside the fences of his tiny farm would bb looked upon as a lunatic. But his conduct were wisdom itself compared with that of those who consider themselves men of light and leading, who in the vanity of their speculations would leave certain races outside the pale of civilization and salvation. The gift, said Alexander once, is not to be measured by Clitus, but by Alexander. And it is good for the world that the Gospel blessings are not meted out by Jews or scientists, but by the great God merciful and gracious. Our sin perhaps has more disqualified us to conceive aright of the liberality of the Gospel than of any other feature belonging to it, because our selfishness is so contrary to it. Here God is represented as going out of Himself to succour mankind without difference of clan or race — an act so opposite to the dominant prin- ciples of our sinful nature that we are quite unable to mentally realise it. Though reason take the wings of the morning and explore new continents of truth in other directions, it is too mucii contracted by sin to picture to itself the boundless generosity of the great God. Inasmuch as mercy, differing in this from justice, varies according to the power of Him who hath mercy, seeing that " 'tis mightiest in the mighty," as the English poet expresses it, and that God's mercy so THE GOSPEL A REVELATION. 407 infinitely transcends man's, and that His wings are so spread out as to afford shelter to all the families of the earth, it is impossible for a soul shut up within its own narrow cells, to rise to an adequate conception of it. Even our love is egotistical, — unable to run save on one object, and too weak to accomplish anything unless con- centrated on one point, growing thinner a", the air in proportion as it grows wider ; how then can we con- ceive worthily of a love sufficiently strong and rich to embrace • a world of sinners, without letting go at the same time His hold on the hosts of heaven ? No ; we must be grounded and bathed first in the love of God in order to rise high enough above the effects of sin to see the breadth and length, the depth and height, and to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge. God's provision for the world is worthy of the high source whence it emanated, and the strange instrumen- tality whereby it was brought about — in a word, worthy of the infinite love and the precious sacrifice. How limited then must our notions of it be ! The old people were endeavouring to determine the extent of the Atone- ment — they were trying to measure it lengthwise and crosswise. How childish ! Can the little shell contain the ocean ? Can the worm mete out the earth ? Can the finite adequately comprehend the infinite ? The Gospel is nothing else than the Infinite Nature in all its bound- less wealth adapting itself to the needs of the finite sinful world. There was in Ahasuerus' feast provision worthy of the wealth of the most illustrious king of his day ; but there is in the feast on Mount Sion preparation worthy of the Kings of kings and Lord of lords. He has pre- 4oS THE GOSPEL A kEVELATtOM. pared it for all the people — for the Jew and the Greek, for the Englishman and the Barbarian, for the Welshman and the cannibal. To provide for only one nation would not be worthy of Him. Indeed, to provide sparingly for even the whole world would not be according to His custom — plenteousness characterises all His acts. He gives abun- dance of air for un to breathe, abundance of water for us to drink, abundance -^f everything save of punishment for our sins — this He carefully weighs. By measure He punishes ; by line He judges. Accordingly His grace is measureless — beyond, far beyond, anything we can think or imagine ; and He pours it in a continuous cataract on the world, which sweeps away before it all obstacles, and extends itself a fertilising deluge over the world, making the wilderness blossom as the rose, and the desert as the garden of the Lord. With buch fulness of grace in store, I am glad to be able to say that no one, be he who he may and where he may, need be lost. Much grace, it is true, is needed to save one sinner. Not only there must be a sun to illumine all the worlds of the system, but nothing less than a sun would suffice to illumine one world. Not only a grej::,t provision was necessary for the salvation of a great multitude, but a smaller provision wc'ild not suffice to save one. He who has realised the greatness of his misery knows this. When Jonathan Edwards beheld his misery as infinitude piled on infinitude, ready to sink hira to despair, he felt also that something infiiuteiy great was requisite to ^ave him. But notwith- standing the great WL^at of a worldful of sinners, there is here enough for all. This provision is above the laws of .( I THE GOSPEL A REVELATION. 409 the finite — it is too great to be greater. It does not diminish in the using. The number of those who partake of it makes no difference in it, nor does it lessen the share of each one personally — every one somehow possesses it all. Notwithstanding the number who daily enjoy sunlight, no one feels that his share is thereby diminished. Every one of the myriad creatures wliich play in the great deep has it all for itself. In like manner, though a great multitude which no man can number has been filled with all the fulness of God, yet the whole fulness awaits the appropriation of each one. There is therefore no danger lest the demand exceed the supply. It often occurs in calamities on sea and on land that many are lost whilst a few are saved, because the provision for escape is insuffi- cient. But no such misfortune can befall those who resort to Jesus Christ for salvation. And though friends are not sometimes able to secure the salvation of their friends, or parents that of their children, yet the defect is not in the Gospel provision. No ; blessed be God, that is worthy of the Provider. Bring your families, persuade your neighbours, compel the whole world to come in — there is room enough to contain them, and provision enough to entertain them. The Gospel is not a small boat sent out to rescue a few of those who are sinking in the sea, but a vessel so great that, if all were saved, there were room yet. Though sin has much abounded, grace has much more abounded — so much more as heaven is higher than earth, and God greater than man. ■<«<^I«W,^1» ( 410 ) GOD LOVING HIS SON. lU BY THE REV. THOMAS JAMES, M.A., LLANELLY. •'Therefore doth my Father love me, because I lay down my life that I might take it again." — St. John x.17. The assertions which Christ makes in respect of His rela- tion to God are very different from anything we read of in connection with the prophets of the Old Testament. Many of these held close communion with God, and mani- fested a kind of holy boldness in approaching Him ; but never did any of them dare make the like assertions and use the like language as Christ. Abraham was called the friend of God ; but when making intercession for the men of Sodom he acknowledged he was but dust and ashes, and prayed that God would not be angry with him for his boldness. Of all the saints of the Old Testament, Moses perhaps was the most favoured ; it was he that was honoured with the highest and most glorious manifesta- tions of Jehovah. He was with Him for forty days and forty nights ; but from the cloud and from the midst of fire God spoke to him, a direct revelation he could not endure. But Christ was the only-begotten Son, dwelling in the bosom of the Father ; unto Him, therefore, the Father reveals all things. The patriarchs and prophets appeared GOD LOVING HIS SON, 411 before God as servants before their master, vividly con- scious of their great inferiority. So terrible was the sight on Mount Sinai, that even Moses said, " I exceed- ingly fear and quake." But Jesus Christ never evinced such emotions j when drawing nigh to God in prayer, or when speaking of Him to His disciples. He always showed a quiet consciousness of equality, never did He acknow- ledge personal inferiority or imperfection. On a special occasion, when speaking of Himself as a servant dis- charging the duties of a mediator. He says, " My Father is greater than I." But in His prayers He never asks forgiveness nor acknowledges a single fault m His life — perfect as God is perfect. Not once before the Incarnation do we find any single individual calling God his Father, not even among the children of Israel. Israel as a nation pleads, " Doubtless Thou art our Father, our Redeemer," but not a single believer in that nation was bold enough to use the name. Jesus Christ, however, continually uses it — it is the great word, the keynote, of His life and ministry. " I and My Father are one ; " " My Father and your Father ; " " holy Father ; " " righteous Father," and so forth. If a man appropriated the term, his conscience would accuse him of blasphemy ; his mora' notions would contradict his verbal asseverations. In the history of Jesus of Nazareth, however, we behold a man repeatedly asserting His equal- ity with God, continually calling Him Father, without being reproved by His conscience ; His enemies even not being able to convince Him of sin, and more than all — His Father acquiescing in the memorable words, " Thou art My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." And V. ' il 412 GOD LOVING HIS SON. yet tliis Son dios ; and Ilia Futher lovos Him for dying. ** Therefore dotli My Father love Me, because I lay down My life that T iiiijjfht take it again." In these words Ciirist seems to found his Father's love to llini on His death, the Diviiu; affections twining around Iliin because of something He is about to accomplish here on earth. A group of children are playing on the bank of a deep river, when suddenly one of them falls into the water. Just at that moment a stranger happens to pass th'it way, and seeing the child struggling for his life he plunges into the flood and rescues the little one from a watery grave. The father, on receiving the child alive, testifies to the stranger his gratitude — gratitude too great to be uttered in words — and assures him of his deepest and sincerest love as long as he lives. Well then may the stranger say, " Therefore the father loveth me, because I endangered my life to save his child." Before this there was no acquaintance between them ; this gave existence to the love, this was the origin of the attachment. Does that exhaust all the meaning of the text ? Was the love of God to Christ procured solely by the death on the Cross ? Was this the origin of it ? Some infer from the words of the text and other similar passages that Christ is not related to God save by moral ties, in virtue of His faithful and spontaneous obedience to His com- mandments ; they allege that no higher union subsists between them. The graces of His life, the beauty of His character, it was that drew forth the approbation of the Eternal Father. But it seems to me that that was not the meaning of Christ Himself; His death was not the ground of the union, wliicli union we are taught had no * n* GOD LOVING HIS SON. 4*3 boginni]i«(, for it ever existofl. Father and Son are not nanu'M given in virtue of Home new connection formed in the development of th(^ plan of redemption, l)iit desi^'uiito an eternal r<'lationship in tlui l^ivin(^ Nature. The rela- tion of Father and Son always existed, and as tlu^ Sou is the express imago of the Father the love must be irjutual, eternal, and unchaiigeabl(\ John declares that (iod is love ; but love cannot exist without an object to act upon ; it cannot lie dormant in the heart without goiug forth in act; it is its nature to go out of self in t]u) direction of its object. If that be true, Cod's love must always have had its object to act upon befijre the creation of num or angel. Who could that object be if not He of whom it is said that " He was by Him as one brought up with Him, and was always His delight, rejoicing always before Him ? " Tlio Bible teaches us that the Son is in possession of all the Divine attributes, and is consecpiently co-equal with God ; therefore God's love to the Son is commensuratb with His love to Himself, inlinitely greater tlum it could be to any creature. His moral (jualities as exhibited in His earthly life are not the only nor the chief cause of the Father's love to the Son ; it was not the death of Jesus for men that originated it, rather did it spring from the essen- tial and eternal union between them. And yet in the text Jesus affirms that the Father loveth Him because lie lays down His life. But viewed aright, there is no inconsist- ency here. ^lystery doubtless there is, but mystery is not inconsistency. The text points out a new or an additional reason why the Father loves the Son, without by any means contradicting the eternal love founded in the eternal union. 414 GOD LOVING HIS SON. BiHj- K ' 1' i ' That this may be the more clearly understood we shall use a plain illustration. Suppose that a king has a son whom he dearly loves ; and further suppose that a portion of the realm is in rebellion against his rightful authority. It were easy for the king to send his armies and destroy « the rebels. But he is to leniency inclined, and desires to win them by justice tempered with mercy and make them obedient subjects. For that purpose the king's son goes over to the disaffected province, associates with the in- habitants, suffers dire privations and aggravating insults, and is often in imminent peril of his life, but T)erseveres to put down the insurrection by forbearance and kindness. At length he succeeds, order is restored, the inhabitants learn obedience, and the country has rest. Well may the king express delight at the prince's conduct, and with propriety might the prince say, " Therefore doth my father love me, because I imperilled my life to save his subjects." The king loved him before as his son ; but here is a new and an additional reason for its continuance, increase, and manifestation. The idea of our text is something similar. This world was in rebellion against its Maker. The eternal Son be- came incarnate, dwelt among us, laid down His life, that the world through Him might be saved. Therefore doth the Father love the Son — it is a new reason for beholding Him with complacency. That the Father was well pleased with Christ is clearly seen throughout the whole history. On His entering His public ministry heaven was opened, the Spirit descended on Him, and God audibly testified, " This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased ; " and again on the Mount of Transfiguration the same voice 11 - GOD LOVING HIS SON. 415 is beard repeating the same words with a new emphasis. That He received the approbation of His Father in His sufferings no one will deny. The Father loved Him when the Jews hated Him and reviled Him. God smiled on Him when His countrymen frowned on Him, saying, "Away with Him, crucify Him!" But to approve of a person in suffering and comfort him under crosses is quite a different thing from loving him for it. But here Christ is loved, not despite of it, but for it. " For this the Father loveth me, because I lay down My life that I may take it again." Let us then briefly inquire what were the elements in Christ's death which drew forth the love of God. I. Perfect spontaneity in the obedience He rendered His Father. Very far are we from believing that His sufferings and agony were in themselves well-pleasing to God. God delights not in suffering, but forbids cruelty of every description. In providence and grace He proves Himself merciful, full of tenderness and pity. He did not love His Son, because of any delight He had in suffering as such. It was not simply because Christ died, God loved Him. All men die, yea, according to Divine appointment, but God does not love them for this, else the wicked would be loved as well as the righteous. It was not the death as an external act that drew forth the love, but the Divine prin- ciple that prompted it, the Divine voluntariness that underlay it, the Divine spontaneity pervading it. " Be- cause I lay down My life. No one taketh it from Me ; but I lay it down." His enemies did not snatch it by force ; neither was He in a state of docile passivity. His whole 4i6 GOD LOVING HIS SON. B %. '^ soul was in the act — " I lay it down," and this elevates His death to the rank of sacrifice. Separate this voluntariness from the death, and you deprive it of all virtue for the redemption of the world, and there is nothing in it more than in some other death to attract the lovv^ of the Father. " No one taketh it from Me ; but I lay it r.own of Myself. I liave authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it again. This com- mandment have I received of 3.1y Father." The wiles and stratagems of His enemies notwithstanding. He could not be touched till the appointed hour arrived for Him to surrender Himself. His power or authority over His life was twofold. It rested in Him as God. He was not a creature, deriving His existence from another, and depending upon that other for His continuance, and therefore subordinate to him. But He was self-existent, and the source of all other existences. " As the Father hath life in Himself, so also hath He given to the Son to have life in Himself." In what way soever the Father possesses life, the Son pos- sesses it the same way. He hud authority or power to do as He wished, to lay it down or not, and to take it up again after having laid it down, without being responsible to any one. This was also done in accordance with the command- ment He received from the Father^, that is, according to the Divine plan in the great scheme of salvation, which commandment in no wise deprived Him of the original power He had over His life, but was in perfect harmony therewith, as the Son's will was one with the Father's, and yet perfectly free. Christ laid down His life voluntarily, MMiM GOD LOVING HIS SON. 417 of His own free will : no compulsion. Neither Pilate nor Herod, neither the Komans nor the Jews, had authority or power to put Him to death. "I lay it down — no one taketh it from Me." God the Father commands this self- sacrifice, and yet the obedience of the Son is perfectly spontaneous and automatic. There is mystery here which no man can fathom. But mystery or no mystery, Christ of His own free will surrendered His life, and by so doing revealed His Father's will, developed the great plan of redemption, and is therefore the object of God's intensest love. His death was the pure overflow of boundless love, the self-revelation of love in the most glorious manner. His physical death, I mean the death of the body, was nothmg in itself; only in so far as it was a proof oi the inner feeling was it meritorious ; in the inner man dwelt the virtue, in the surrendering of the spirit according to the original plan. This it was, namely, the glorious and holy principle that underlay His death, that drew to Him with renewed intensity the love of His Father, for in the self- sacrifice of the Son the Father beheld His own character faithfully mirrored. Moreover, as has been already sug- gested, this self-sacrifice was made not only in harmony with the Divine Will, but also in obedience to it. God was intent on saving the world ; the plan was drawn ; the decree had gone forth that a sacrifice of infinite worth should be made; and seeing this fully realised in the obedience and self-immolation of the Son, God's appro- bation was won, the Divine love entwined around Hira afresh. " For this doth my Father love Me, because I lay down My life." 2 D ;i: f 4i8 GOD LOVING HIS SON. II. Faith was another important element in Christ's redemptive work, an element which furnished an addi- tional reason why God should love Him. " I lay it down that " — in order that — " I may take it again." I do not know that there would be any merit or virtue in His death had He sacrificed Himself without any reference or regard to the future, without the strongest assurance of His subsequent resurrection. Such a death would not be a sacrifice to God; i> -ould not be a free, courageous, confident act, an outflow of love, but the result of despair in respect of His own destiny or that of the race. I doubt if the death of Christ could have taken place without His being fully confident beforehand of His rising again. He was holy, harmless, separate from sinners, yea, exempt from sin, perfect in thought, word, and deed ; and the death of such an One would not, could not, be permitted in the government of a righteous God but for some adequate purpose, coupled with an absolute certainty that the death would accomplish the purpose in view, and that the Sufferer would rise triumphantly to reap the reward of His passion and blood. During His whole life Jesus Christ was fully conscious of His sinlessness, and challenged His enemies to convince Him of sin. The sweet and unbroken harmony of His life with His affirma- tions concerning Himself is a certain proof of His inward consciousness with regard to His spotless purity. Know- ing therefore that He was sinless. He must have also known that death had no power over Him, for death is the wages of sin. On the other hand, inasmuch as He knew He was to on the morn of creation is He who hath also shined into GOD LOVING HIS SON. 419 beforehand of His victory over death, by taking His life again. The morning of the third day was as clear before His mental vision as the hour of His crucifixion. He never spoke to His disciples of His death without at the same time alluding to His resurrection. " From that time forth began Jesus to show unto His disciples how that He must go into Jerusalem, and suffer many things of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and be raised again the third day.'"' The taking up was in the divine plan as well as the laying down. The scheme would not have been fully wrought out, the plan would not have been quite completed, without the taking of life again after having laid it down : He had full confidence the plan would be carried through to the very end. " Therefore the Father loved Him, because He laid down His life that He mijht take it ar/aiti." His whole life was a life of faith and love combined. He knew the bonds of death would be loosed, and that it was not possible He should be holden of it. One object of His dying was to destroy him who had the power of death, to destroy him by rising from the dead. He laid down His life accord- ing to the plan, with the determined purpose of taking it up again according to the same plan. God therefore com- mands Him, yea, loves Him because of His faith — because of His full confidence in the successful issue of the plan. Now, my friends, if God finds a new reason for loving His Son in the moral qualities that Son displayed, think you not He will love us also if we strive to live as Christ lived ? Depend on it, wherever He sees men living a life of obedience and self-sacrifice. He will manifest His love to them. The only way to secure H^s approbation is to KV 420 GOD LOVING HIS SON. P, '■! follow Christ, to imitate the Kedeemer, to live with ycur eyes fixed on the Divine Commandments, to consecrate yourselves wliolly to the will of God, to lay down your lives on the altar of the Gospel for Him to use as He thinks fit, trusting Him for the consequences. We should lay down our lives that we may take them again. Our thoughts should revert often to the future. We have an endless future before us ; we determine that future now. We shall be then what we are now. A blessed future awaited Christ because of His obedience, self-sacrifice, and faith ; so there will be to us if we follow in His steps. As evidence of God's love to His Son, look on the honour and glory conferred on Him after His resurrection. " Wherefore God hatli highly exalted Him, and given Him a name, which is above every name." " For the sufiering of death He is crowned with glory and honour." Such will be the lot of all those who follow Christ's ex- ample — they shall be made kings and priests to God. Here they will have tribulation and crosses, yea, they will have to enter the grave ; but for them also there is a third day, a resurrection morn, when they shall take their life again and spend a happy eternity in the pre- sence of God. May this be our portion ! ( 4" ) THE FULL ASSURANCE OF UNDERSTANDING. BY THE REV. JOHN HUGHES, D.D., LIVERPOOL. "That their liearts miffht be comforted, being knit together in love, and unto all riches of tlic full assurance of understanding, to the acknowled;j;ment of the mystery of God, and of the Father, and of Christ."— Col. ii. 2. " Assurance of understanding," or " the acknowledgment of the mystery of God," is the chief blessing the Apostle desires to his readers. One reason for this is that they were in danger of being " spoiled through philosophy and vain deceit " — philosophy which was itself vain deceit, a kind of combination of Jewish traditions and Gentile mysticism. Another reason is that this blessing supposes the possession of other spiritual graces ; "' assurance of understanding" could not be attained but through faith and love. The believers at Colosse and Laodicea had not seen the Apostle's face in the flesh, and he evidently hints that he was in consequence under a disadvantage in writing to them ; they probably explained his strangeness to them as a proof of want of love on his part towards them and of proper solicitude for their spiritual edification. " Why has he not visited us before this ? "Why, in the frequent journeys he makes, in which ne visits other churches more Ih- 422 Pull assurance of understanding. than once, has he not yet come to usj^ Is not his neglect of us an evidence that we have less rocfm in his affections than other churches ? " But to prevent, if not to erase, every impression of the kind, he assures them with lovinj.' wisdom that his strangeness to them was not to be inter- pret'id ap )> ip'. of in.'lifferer ce to them or lack of care for theni '' ^ v'ould that ye knew what great conflict I have for yoi;_ iid 1 r them at Laodicea, and for as many as have not seen my face in the flesh." He was in "conflict" for them, and the word " conflict " means " agony.*' Being now a prisoner, he was more concerned about the spiritual prosperity of strangers than for his own comfort and liberty ; and his concern for them quickened his imagina- tion to realise more vividly their condition and portrf^,/ more graphically their danger. In the spirit he saw them as harmless sheep among ravenous wolves ; he understood that their own eternal destiny, and God's truth among them, were in imminent peril. " Were I present with them, I could guard them and guide them, expose the devices of the enemy, and arm them to meet his onset. But now, far from them, and unacquainted with the details of the assault and the changing attitude of their own minds, what shall I do ? What direction shall I give to my letter? How shall I combine in the right propor- tion severity and tenderness in addressing them ? " The word " conflict," therefore, is the most proper to denote the state of his mind ; his soul was in " agony ; " he was so straitened that he knew not exactly how to address them ; his heart was overflowing with mixed emotions. He now fears, then hopes ; he is now in deep and quiet meditation, anon stirred by holy jealousy; the next moment FULL ASSURANCE OF UNDERSTANDING. 423 r to denote melts in tenderness, and then bows the knee before God in pra} er and supplication. The counteraction of so many antagonistic emo< ons — fear, hope, jealousy, anxiety — throws him in^o mental " agony ; " and he now informs his ref^ders of the hard conflict he was in, with a view of pre- paring them to receive the instruction he meant to impart to them. He was thus in conflict on their behalf " that their hearts might be comforted ; " and there is no way of comforting them without strengthening IKoh' md no way of strengthening them without instrr .l: ig .hem. This shows that error is a cause of discoait''*^. It produces feelings of anxiety and uncertainty m the heart of the individual, and creates jealousies an 1 suspicions in the Christian congregation. If there be room to doubt the steadfastness of the foundation and the walls, the slightest breeze of wind will throw the family into terror ; and in like manner will comfort vanish from a Christian Church if misgivings be entertained respecting the foundations of the faith. Since the Colossians were distracted by false teachers, the only way to restore comfort to them was to confirm them in the truth of the gospel. " That tlieir hearts might be comforted, being knit" or joined "together in love, and unto all riches of the full assurance of under- standing." It was necessary to unite them in order to strengthen and comfort them ; the element in which to unite them, and in which alone they could be united, was love : a theory may unite minds, and a cause or movement may unite men, but only love can unite hearts. And the object of this union is " all riches of the full assurance of understanding." The combination of so many words < Pi" mm ■• i ' . I % m I? I A'- ij 424 FULL ASSURANCE OF UNDERSTANDING. shows that the blessing under consideration is of inestim- able worth. The Apostle wishes tliem to possess an binder' standing in the mystery of God ; and more than that — assurance of understanding ; yea, full assurance of under- standing. And yet this does not express all his thought : he wishes them all riches of the full assurance of under- standing ; and then, after heaping together so many words, he adds another sentence — " the acknowledgment of the mystery of God, and of the Father, and of Christ." Such an " understanding " must therefore be the fullest and richest, the most penetrating and effectual, this side of that state wherein the saints will see face to face and know as they are known. Let us look, in the first place, at the knowledge or understanding to which assurance pertains ; and, in the second place, at that assurance which perfects the know- ledge. I. The KNOWLEDGE OF " understanding " to which assur- ance belongs. That men have two kinds of knowledge respecting divine things is manifest : these two kinds are recognised by the inspired writers, and our own consciousness and our observation of our fellow-men agree with the teaching of Scripture. We are acquainted with many who are more or less instructed in the truths of religion ; but we also know that there are certain elements in the knowledge of some of them, which make it not only higher in degree but different in kind ; yea, that those who are the least versed in the one may possess a good degree of the other, whilst those who consider themselves and are considered by others FULL ASSURANCE OF UNDERSTANDING. 425 licli assur- to be wise and intelligent may be completely destitute of the higher knowledge. One is the knowledge of the intellect alone: the fruit of study, of investigation, and of judgment, just as natural sciences are. The other is a higher knowledge built upon the foruier, or the former vitalised, transfigured, and sanctified ; it possesses moral and spiritual properties ; it pervades the whole man ; it baptizes the understanding with feeling, and the feeling with divine influences ; it is the product of the love of the heart and of the obedience of the will even more than of the inquiry of the intellect ; it is the gift of God rather than the acquisition of man ; and because of the riches of its contents, its influence is incomparably deeper on the soul possessing it. Whilst, however, the two kinds of knowledge are to be distinguished, they are not to be separated ; and one danger we are exposed to is, in magnifying the one, to depreciate the other ; for if every knowledge is a ray from the Uncreated Light, much more the knowledge of the Holy One. What will secure us against contemning the lower is the consideration of its relation to the higher. It is true that we can possess the lower without the higher, but it is not true that we can possess the higher without the lower. Though it was in the Holiest of All the Divine Glory dwelt, yet the high priest could not enter therein but through the other sanctuary, and only a veil separated between them. Similarly, though the spiritual knowledge is the dwelling-place of the glory, yet the two are parts of the same temple, and the relation between them is such that the knowledge of the intellect is the sanctuary which leads to the Most Holy Place of the spiritual understand- 426 FULL ASSURANCE OF UNDERSTANDING. 'H' \'i It ih . J:hn ■"l! ing: in the lower — the outer — are found the materials and the objects of the higher. The New Testament speaks of false knowh'dge — " knowledge falsely so-called." This, however, is not the same as intellectual appreh('nsif)u of the Gospel. A false knowledge is that which has no external object corresponding to it. Either its objects have no real existence, being nothing more than the creations of the imagination, or its explanations of real existences are misleading and erroneous. Intellectual knowledge of the things of God, on the contrary, is right so far as it goes. For one thing, its objects are veritable objects ; another thing, its apprehension of them is correct — corresponding with their reality. Though it is not adequate, yet it is not therefore incorrect. If it have real objects, and its conceptions of them be true, it is obvious that it cannot be called /«/,sc knowledge, whatever defects may belong to it. On the other hand, it is extremely valuable, unutterably more valuable than any branch of natural knowledge, because of its connection with the highest knowledge of all. It is not to be divorced from the highest any more than 'he human from the Divine, or the understanding in man from the affections and the will. God's Word avoids everything like false mysticism by lay- ing a strong emphasis on the fact that understanding must precede feeling and willing ; not but that feeling quickens and invigorates the apprehension, but that spiritual feeling \8 never produced by a species of magic, — that a degree of apprehension precedes it in order to originate it. This undoubtedly is the philosophy of knowledge in the New Testament. It is implied in those words which represent God's Word as the means to engender and increase grace, I'VLL ASSOkANCn OF UNDERSTANDING. 427 and in the exliortationa to consider and seek lo understand Divine truths. Faith conietli by hearing, and th«^ lieariug wliich produces faith implies an understandiujjf of wluit is heard. As Jo}in the Ba])tist went before the face of tlic Messiah, ao this kn()\vled«^e prepares a people ready for a higher knowledge. This is the window which admits into the soul the light of heaven ; and as the room is lighter if the window be large and clear, so also the spiritual knowledge is likely to be more vivid if the natural know- ledge of God's things be abundant. The function of tlu^ one is to build the altar, arrange the wood, and place the sacrifice on the wood ; the function of tlu; other is to briuir down from heaven the fire of the Lord to consume the sacrifice. That knowledge therefore is not false which supplies material for the highest knowledge — that presents it with its objects, being thus a necessary preparation for it. Were it false knowledge, it would have been con- demned, and our duty were to eschew it ; but as the labour for it is commanded, it must be a knowledge of great price. At the same time, though it be not vain and useless, it is insufficient ; and the super-excellence of spiritual know- ledge makes it appear pale and poor in comparison. The deepest knowledge of the understanding concerning divine th ngs is after all but very shallow if there be not some- thin n- tcDces could be picked. . . . Freshness and force. . . . Good, nervous, homely, expressive English, and withuut a needless Mord. . . . Readers of this book will find a gre.it many things which h.ive perhaps never struck them before, but which are very natural, simple, and beautiful. . . . No one who reads this book wiih attention, and with an honest and earnest heart, can fail to bencfii by it. It will convey numberless valuable hints to students and young pre.ichers, and is a model of the simple, manly, earnest style most needed in the pulpit." — 'J'/u W ah/inutn and l\ esleyun Aiivertiser, " These sermons upon the .Acts are worthy of a great .Association meeting among the mountains in the days ol Christmas Evans. They are fresh and lively ; thouglitful and hery ; just the sort to hold a congregation s|H:!l-bound. We do not mean that there is anything rough or off-hand in Mr. Jones' dis- courses, for they exhibit a gnod deal of finish and elegance ; but tliey are not overdone in th.it direction, so as to die of dignity. We are gl.id to see the more striking points of a bo<.k of Scripture set forth in this fashion by a great E readier ; lor thus our lights of exposition are increased, and the Word is eiier understood. Much more miglit be done in this direction to the gain of the Church. We are not at all surprised tint these * Studies ' have reached a second edition : they belong to an order of books which will always command a sale as long as Sciiptual exposition is valued, and that will be the case so long us spiritual itien are left among iis." — Sword and Trmutl, Uniform with the above^ STUDIES IN THE GOSPEL BY ST. MATTHEW. S£< oND Ldhio.n. " This is a remarkable volume of sermons in a singularly unpretending form. We never remember to liave met with so much culture, freshness, power, pathos, and fire in so small a space. It is a book to be read and re-read, with new instruction and stimulus on each perusal. It is no exaggeration to say that Mr. Jones is fully equal to Robertson at his best, and not seldom superior to him in intellectual grasp, depth of thougnt, clc.irness of exposition, pointed- ness of appeal, and hdelity to evangelicid truth. The style, which is severely logical, remiiicls us in its beauty of Ruskin. These are models of what pulpit discourses ought to be. We shall look for more from the same able pen." — AJethoiii^t Recorder. *• These sermons are really 'Studies.' They handle vital subjects with great clearness, breadth, and power. Mr. Jones is a teacher who has a , :glit to lie heard be>ond the limited sphere of the pulpit. Every page ot his work mani- fests careful thinking, clean-cut exegesis, and fine flashes ot spiritual [lerception. While iresh in tiiuughl and happy in expression, the discourses are eminently evangelical. Christian ministers will hiid much to stimulate thought and quicken enthusiasm in these pa^ts ; they will also see how to redeem the pulpit from trite tbiukitig and lilipshud expression." — Jriih Congregational Ma^atine, I > Uniform with Studies in the Acts and Matthew, STUDIES IN THE GOSPEL BY ST. JOHN. Second Edi iion. " Very suggestive ; presents many well-known truths in a fresh light."— Christian Age. "Thoroughly evangelical in tone ; and, while quite natural and just, Mr. Jones' interpretations and illustrations, even of much-used texts, are always fresh and striking. Every ' Study ' sparkles with suggestive and beautiful thoughts, set in choice and charming language. These Studies are models of what the discourses of a really helpful ministry should be, for they alike inform the mind and warm the heart. " — Methodist New Connexion Magazine. 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Second Edition, price $1.60, STUDIES IN THE ACTS OF THE APOSTLES. By the Rev. J Cynddylan Jones. The Bishop op Liverpool says :— " It is a book of great freshness, vigour, and originality, as well as thoroughly sound in doctrine, and J wish it a wide circulation." The Dean of Peterborough : — " It is full of interest, and very fresh and suggestive. You have conferred a real benefit upon the Church, and I hope you will be encouraged to give us some more commentaries in the same strain. They will be valuable." Opinions of the Press. "Full of fresh thoughts, strikingly put, . . . Models of what sermons should be. . . . Intellectual stimulus to the most cultured reader. . . . All will repay reading, not only once, but a second, and ,even a third txxac."— The Christian World. "A very suggestive volume. ... A fresh and vigorous treatment. . . . Singular ability. . . . The idea an excellent one, and could not have been better carried out."- "ht Literary World. " This is in every way a noteworthy and most striking book. . . . We have seldom read sermons out of which so many capital, terse, aphoristic sentences could be picked. , . . Freshness and force. . . . Good, nervous, homely, expressive English, and without a needless word. . . . Readers of this book will find a great many things which have perhaps never struck them before, but which are very natural, simple, and beautiful. . . . No one who reads this book with attention, and with an honest and earnest heart, can fail to benefit by it. It will convey numberless valuable hints to students and young preachers, and is a model of the simple, manly, earnest style most needed in the pulpit." — The Watchman and Wesley an Advertiser. " Mr. Jones has a well-trained faculty of looking all round his sub* ject, and of looking straight into it. He is often very suggestive, and always very methodicaL Of fruitful mind and careful habit of thought, he treats no subject without putting some greater or smaller truth into a new light." — Nonconformist. *' The sermons possess great for6e and freshness. As far as we eaa see, there is no monotony in them — a very rare thing in sermon litera- ture. Their spirit is as fresh and bracing as a May morning on the mountain top. Everywhere we discern a manly robustness, a boldness of conception, and a vigorous common sense. Old truths are often so quaintly and forcefully put, that they sparkle with new light, and remind us of diamonds reset." — The Bible Christian Magazine. *' It is pleasing to meet with such freshness and originality, . . . The fruit of extensive reading and careful thought. ... He treats his sub- jects in a simple but masterly style, and he invests his tiiemes with interest and attraction. . , . We heartily commend them to young ministers as models of simplici'", eloquence, and clearness of sty e. . . . One of the most eloquent preachers of Wales." — South Waks Daily News, " The ripe fruit of a man of genius." — {Addfed ffrwyth tneddwl at^ry- lithgar wedi cyrhaedd ei lawn dwj.) — Y Goleuad. "Admirable sermons. The style of treatment is popular and vigor- ous, many old points being brought out with considerable force, and many new ones revealed in a pleasing manner, by the ingenious and disnernmg author. ... A store of sound thought and striking lan> guage." — The Christian, " Freshness and vigour. . . . The execution is really good." — The Freeman. *' Signal ability. The author thinks for himself; strikes out into his own paths, and walks alone with an independent step ; he does not lean on the arm of any one. We rejoice to know, from this volume, that Cambria has still preachers of original thought, fervid enthusiasm, and stirring eloquence." — The Homilist. Crown 8vo, cloth boards, price $1«25. STUDIES IN THE GOSPEL BY ST. MATTHEW. By the Kev. J. Cvnudylan Jones. Opinhns of the Press. " This is a remarkable volume of sermons in a singularly unpretend- ing form. We never remember to have met with so much culture, freshness, power, pathos, and fire in so small a space. It is a book to be read and re-read, wiih new instrnction and stimulus on each perusal. It is no exajigeration to say tiiat Mr. Jones is fully equal to Robertson at his best, and not seldom superior to him in intellectual grasp, depth of thougitt, clearness of exposition, pointedness of appeal, and fidelity to evangfiical truth. The style, which is severely logical, reminiis us in its beauty and simplicity of Ruskin. These are models of what pulpit dis- courses ought to be. We shall look for more from the same able pen.** — Methodiit Recorder, "Since reading Robertson's sermons in 1857 .... we have not derived so much pleastire and instrnction as from this volume. We have read the book over and over again, and every time with additional 'pleasure by finding somethmg new that had not presented itself to us before. Every sermon is full of thoughts pregnant with others. Th« whole sermon grows naturally out of the text, touch after touch, into a petfect whole — a thing of beauty suggestive of profounder neaning in Scripture and new lines of treatment. The author is perft . ly natural, often humorous, never dull. . . . We never more heartiiy, nor with greater confidence, recommended a volume of sermons to the notice of our readers. Preachers who wish to learn how great thoughts can be wedded to language clear and easy, or how a sermon may be made to Sow out of Scripture and not forced upon it, will do well to study r. Jones' style.' — Western Mail. " These volumes (' Studies in St. Matthew and ' Studies in the Acts') are the works of an artist who wields a literary pencil that might be envied by the best writers of modem times ; and some of the passages /emind us of Ruskin at his very best. ' Beauty adorning Truth ' is the ■anotto we would select to describe these works. Ripe culture, keen insight, and intense enthusiasm are their prominent characteristics. We have never met with so much thought, originality, and suggestiveness, allied with such exquisite taste, in so small a compass." — TAe Essex Telegraph, "Seventeen of the leading topics of the first Gospel are, in this volume, made the basis of thoughtful, suggestive, well-arranged, and dearly-expressed sermons. Mr. Jones has the faculty for the effective treatment of large breadths of Scripture, seizing their salient ideas, treat- ing them in a broad and fundamental manner, and so carrying his readers to the heart of Christianity and of life, in a way that secures tttractive freshness and mind-compelling force. We welcome these Studies,' and shall be glad to introduce i our readers other works Worn the same able and glowing pen." — General Baptist Magazine. '• We have read these sermons with unusual gratification. They are jerfectly evangelical, vigorous, and often original in thought, robust in lentiment, vivid in illustration, with frequent quaintness of expression which give piquancy to their teaching, and keep the interest of the reader fide awake." — Baptist Magazine. " These sermons are really ' Studies.' They handle vital subjects with great clearness, breadth, and power. Mr. Jones is a teacher who 'las a right to be heard beyond the limited sphere of the pulpit. Every ^age of his work manifests careful thinking, clean-cut exegesis, and fine flashes of spiritual perception. While fresh in thought and happy in expression, the discourses are eminently evangelical. Christian minis- ters will find much to stimulate thought and quicken enthusiasm in these pages ; they will also see how to redeem the pulpit from trite thinking and slipshod expression." — Irish Congregational Magazine, '• We regard the discourses in this volume as models of exposition ; and ministers who are eni-aged in taking their hearers through the first Gospel cannot do better than get Mr. Jones' volume." — Christian World Pulpit. " Mr. Jones writes with much literary finish and skill, and with an evident avoidance of the coarse sensationalism so common in works of «he kind, for which we know not how to be sufficiently grateful." — Christian Globe, " This is no ordinary book by no ordinary man. ... It bristles from beginning to end with terse, fresh, vigorous thoughts. ... A boolc which might be one of the classics of the English language." — TIU freacher'i Analyst,