MELVILL'S LECTURES.








LECTURES
ON
PRACTICAL SUBJECTS,
DELIVERED AT.t.  tarart'a, aaotqsItra,
BF THR
REV. HENRY MELVILL, B. D.,
PRINOIPAL OF THE EAST INDIA COLLEGE, AND CHAPLAIN TO THE TOWER OF LONDON; AUTHOR OW
SERMONS PREACHED BEFORE THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE AND ST. MARY'S CHURCH;
SERMONSB ON CERTAIN OF THE LESS PROMINENT FACTS AND REFERENCES
IN SACRED STORY, PREACHED ON PUBLIC OCCASIONS;
ETC., ETC., ETC.
PHIL AD EL P HIA:
H. HOOKER, 911 CHESTNUT STREET.
1864.








CONTENTS.
LECTURE I.
THE RETURN OF THE DISPOSSESSED SPIRIT.
MATT. xii. 43-45.                           PAGs
"When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places,
seeking rest, and findeth none. Then he saith, I will return into my house from
whence I came out; and when he is come, he findeth it empty, swept, and
garnished. Then goeth he, and taketh with himself seven other spirits more wicked
than himself, and they enter in and dwell there: and the last state of that man
is worse than the first. Even so shall it be also unto this wicked generation."....  11
LECTURE IT.
HONEY FROM  THE ROCK.
DEUT. Xxxii. 13.'He made him ride on the high places of the earth, that he might eat the increase of
the fields; and he made him to suck honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty
rock."...............................................................  30
LECTURE III.
EASTER.
1 PETER i. 3..lessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of
Jesus Christ from the dead."............................................   48




G                                CONTENTS.
LECTURE IV.
THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.
1 JOHN V. 10.                             PAGB
"He that believeth on the Son of God bath the witness in himself.".,  69
LECTURE V.
THE  APOCRYP HA.
2 PETER i. 21.
" Holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost."............  90
LECTURE VI.
A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.
ISA. xxxii. 2.
"And a man shall be as a hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary
land............................................................ 109
LECTURE VLI.
THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.
MATT. xix. 29.
"And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or
mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life."......................   128
LECTURE VIII.
THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.
MATT. vi. 25.
"Is not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?"................. 148
LECTURE IX.
ISAIAH' S VISION.
JOHN xii. 39-41.
"Therefore they could not believe, because that Esaias said again, He hath blinded
their eyes, and hardened their heart; that they should not see with their eyes,
nor understand with their heart, and be converted, and I should heal them. These
things said Esaias, when he saw his glory, and spake of Him."................   16




CONTENTS.                                 7
LECTURE X.
ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
NUMB. xi. 29.                           PAGB
" And Moses said unto him, Enviest thou for my sake? would God that all the Lord's
people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit upon them!".  18
LECTURE XI.
BUILDING THE TOMBS OF THE PROPHETS.
LUKE xi. 47, 48.
"Woe unto you i for ye build the sepulchres of the Prophets, and your fathers killed
them. Truly ye bear witness that ye allow the deeds of your fathers; for they
indeed killed them, and ye build their sepulchres.".......................... 207
LECTURE XII.
MANIFESTATION OF THE SONS OF GOD.
ROM. viii 19.
For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons
of God.............".......................".............e........ 227
LECTURE XIII.
ST. PAUL S DETERMINATION.
1 COR. ii. 2.
"For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and
Him crucified."..................................... 246
LECTURE XIV.
THE SONG OF MOSES AND THE IJAMB.
REV. XV. 3.
"And they sing the song of Moses the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb,
saying, Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and true
are thy ways, thou King of Saints."..................2......... 266




8                                CONTENTS.
LECTURE XV.
THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.
2 PETER iii 9.                            PAGE
a The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is
long-suffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should
come to repentance..............................................        285
LECTURE XVI.
SOWING THE SEED.
MARK iv. 26-29.
"And He said, So is the Kingdom of God, as if a man should cast seed into the
ground; and should sleep, and rise night and day, and the seed should spring
and grow up, he knoweth not how. For the earth bringeth forth fruit of herself; first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear. But when
the fruit is brought forth, immediately he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come."....................................................... 305
LECTURE XVII.
THE GREAT MULTITUDE.
REv. vii. 9.
"After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all
nations, and people, and kindred, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before
the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands.".           324
LECTURE XVIII.
THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.
RUTH ii. 20.
"And Naomi said unto her daughter-in-law, Blessed be he of the Lord, who bath
not left off his kindness to the living and to the dead. And Naomi said unto her,
The man is near of kin unto us, one of our next kinsmen.".................... 344
LECTURE XIX.
ST. BARNABAS.
ACTS xiv. 22.
" Confirming the souls of the disciples, and exhorting them to continue in the faith,
and that we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God.".... 363




CONTENTS.                                    9
LECTURE XX.
SPIRITUAL  DECLINE.
GALATTyNS V. 7.                            P$x2
Ye did run wel] who did hinder you that ye should not obey the truth "...   382








LECTURE I.
(T4  Atd=rl Uf tal BXvfiqusoeo       lpirit.
MATT. xii. 43-45.
"When the unclean spirit is gone out of a man, he walketh through dry places, seeking rest, and findeth none. Then he saith, I will return into my house from whence
I came out; and when he is come, he findeth it empty, swept, and garnished.
Then goeth he, and taketh with himself seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter in and dwell there: and the last state of that man is worse
than the first. Even so shall it be also unto this wicked generation."
THIS parable has been before read to you in the second
lesson of this morning's service. Its drift is much less evident than that of many of our Lord's parables; you may
have often read it without attaching to it any definite
meaning, or extracting from it any practical lesson. We
think it well, therefore, to devote a sermon to its illustration. The words with which our Lord concludes, " Even
so shall it be also unto this wicked generation," sufficiently
show that the parable had a special reference to the Jewish
people. But before considering it under this point of view,
we should like, by a few  general remarks, to guide  you in
applying the parable to yourselves. If you are observers.
even the most cursory, of character, you must be aware
that there is in every man a ruling passion, a master-disposition. Each individual amongst us is tempted by nature




12                 THE RETURN OF                [LECT.
to some one kind of sin, which, according to St. Paul's ex.
pression, is "the sin which most easily besets him."  And
the great difficulty which religion has, is in the grappling
with the master-passion, in the overcoming the besetting
sin, whether it be a sin of the flesh, or a sin of the intellect. If an individual be a real subject of grace, having
been truly converted, a new master-principle has been introduced into his heart-the love of God being most strictly his ruling passion, whatever the affection to which he
had beforetime been captive. But though there is the introduction of this new master-principle, we cannot say that
there is a thorough casting out of the old. We do not, of
course, mean that there will be two master-principles.
There cannot be two things which are both greatest of
their kind. But whilst the love of God is the master-principle, what had formerly been the master-principle remains
within, in a subdued, though not in a dominant, state; and
the great warfare of the Christian's life will result from
the efforts of this principle to regain the lost ascendancy.
If the voluptuous man be converted, his hardest after-task
will lie in resisting the lusts of the flesh; whilst the proud
man, or the envious, will find his main battle must be waged
with pride or with envy. The weak point before conversion will be the weak point after. And the devil, who
once had undisputed possession of the man, and who knows
therefore the quarter in which he is most assailable, will
direct his temptations against the vulnerable point, and seek
to make a breach where there had beforetime been the
broadest highway.
So that the besetting sin, whatsoever it be, must, to the
end of our days, occupy our chief vigilance and prayerful



1.]            THE DISPOSSESSED SPIRIT.            13
ness. For we may take it as an ascertained fact, that, if
we fall again under the dominion of evil, it will be through
the re-entrance of that unclean spirit, which went out from
its mastership, when we first knew Christ, and which, ever
on the alert to recover its empire, will take advantage of
our leaving the ground a moment undefended, to rush to
its lost throne with a kind of sevenfold energy. In this
way, the parable before us admits of a striking application
to every renewed man. Conversion is virtually the casting
out of a dominant passion, and the yielding up the soul to
a new master-principle. But it often happens that men
relax from their first strenuousness; and then the chamber,
which was swept and garnished at the entrance of the new
principle, becomes, in a certain sense, empty and untenanted. And thus there may be said to be given an invitation
to the old ruling-passion, the unclean spirit, which the
Divine word had cast out, but which has never ceased to
hover round its original dwelling-place. And there being,
as it were, an unoccupied house, and an unguarded avenue,
this unclean spirit will hurry to take possession. And forasmuch as none sin with a greater vehemence than those
who yield again to a renounced passion, or an abjured lust,
there will be, for the time, such an energy of tyranny in
the reinstated demon, that he shall seem to have associated
with himself seven others, of greater strength and more
desperate wickedness.
We want to make you aware of this, before we advance
to the fuller explanation and application of the parable.
Depend on it, the chief danger to the Christian is from
the old master-passion, the sin which.was his besetting sin
before his conversion. He is far more likely to fall into




14                 THE RETURN OF              [LECT.
that, than into any other form of evil. We adhere to the
delineation of the parable: we tell every one of you, in
whom, through the operations of grace, the love of God
has become the ruling principle, that the unclean spirit,
which went out from dominion, when the Holy Ghost entered and claimed sovereignty for God, is watching night
and day to gain entrance into the mansion from which he
was expelled-ay, and that if you yield to the unclean
spirit, the old master-passion, it will be far worse for you
than if you had been overcome by any other form of evil:
it will be like taking back a habit, or moving back into a
plague-stricken dwelling; and with so awful a despotism
will the re-admitted spirit seize on every power of the
mind, and every member of the body, that the appearance
shall be as though he had ransacked the hosts of fallen
angels, and selected seven of the mightiest from that terrible company, to aid him in retaining dominion, and annihilating immortality.
But we now turn to other and more complete illustrations of the parable. We may premise that "the seven
spirits," which the unclean spirit is said to have associated
with himself, maybe considered as denoting only one very
powerful spirit, or as figuring the mightier energy with
which this one unclean spirit comes back equipped. You
all know that the number "seven" is not used in Scripture
as five may be, or six, to mark precisely an amount. It is
rather a mystical number, applied whenever perfection or
completeness is to be considered as existing. In the Book
of Revelation, the Holy Ghost is undoubtedly described as
"the seven spirits of God." "Grace be unto you, and
peace from Him which is, and which was, and which is to




I.]            THE DISPOSSESSED SPIRIT.            15
come, and from the seven spirits which are before his
throne, and from Jesus Christ."  Hence we are not required, in expounding the parable before us, to produce a
catalogue of seven evil spirits, associated with the cast-out
one when restored: seven spirits is but a scriptural expression for one spirit of the very mightiest order; and may
only denote that the master evil-passion, if allowed to return,
will return with all its energies awfully strengthened by
absence. This having been premised, we will now endeavour to show you the meaning of the parable as applied
to the Jews; for, as we have before said, the words of our
Lord, " Even so shall it be also unto this wicked generation," fasten it especially on that disobedient people.
Now Judsea had long been a well-watered land, whilst
the phrase "dry places" described accurately every other
district of the globe, considered in respect of its spiritual
advantages. Though God had never left Himself without
witness, even in the darkest times, and among the most
barbarous tribes, the Gentile world was one vast moral
desert, the refreshing showers of Revelation having been
confined to one solitary people. But Judaea, thus favoured
and fertilized, yielded no fruit in return for its privileges:
a barrenness, general as that which marked the unwatered
fields, deformed those which had the dew and the rain.
Such was the condition of the human race, when the fulness of time came, and the long-promised Redeemer was
born of a woman. The watered places, which were the
Jewish people, yielded no harvest to the great proprietor
of the soil; whilst the "dry places," which were the Gentile world, sent not up even that scanty produce, for which
traditional religion, and the constant manifestations of




16                 THE RETURN OF               [LECTe
Godhead which occupy the universe, threw into the ground
sufficiency of moisture. The whole world, in fact, if we
may vary the image, was lying under the dominion of
Satan; and this apostate leader, as the predicted season
drew nigh, when the seed of the woman should bruise his
head, touched the top point of sovereignty, and held the
globe, with all its millions, in the foulest of vassalage.
And when Christ with his disciples moved through
Judsea, proclaiming truths which had long been hidden
from mankind, and ejecting the spirits which had seized on
men's bodies, there was an assault, such as had never before
been witnessed, on the empire of darkness; and the likelihood must have appeared great, even to evil angels themselves, that, so far at least as Judaea was concerned, there
would be an overthrow the most complete of the long-endured despotism. And here comes in the representation
of our parable. Disturbed by the preaching and the miracles of Jesus, the unclean spirits, who had tyrannized over
the souls and bodies of the Jews, abandoned partially
Judaea, and sought to establish themselves in the dry places
of the Gentiles. We are, of course, profoundly ignorant
of machinations and movements in the world of spirits,
and cannot therefore pretend to ascertain, except from the
simple statement of the parable, this departure of the
powers of evil from amongst the Jews, and their attempted
domestication in the dry places of the Gentiles. But we
know that, over and above the discomfiture of Satan in the
ejectment of evil spirits from men's bodies, there was made
for the time a mighty impression on a great body of the
Jews, so that there were moments when Jesus stood within
a hair-breadth of being acknowledged as Christ. There



I.]            THE DISPOSSESSED SPIRIT.            17
fore, morally as well as physically, there was a wide shak.
ing of the empire of Satan; and we can quite understand,
from the known condition of the Jews, that the effect of
the ministrations of Christ and his Apostles had been the
partial expulsion of unclean spirits from the land, and the
consequent affording of a kind of breathing-time to the
nation, that they might be free to receive or reject their
deliverer.
And we learn, on the authority of the parable, that the
spirits, thus disturbed and cast out, craved a new home,
like those who asked leave to enter into the swine, and
sought that rest amongst the Gentiles which they had had
amongst the Jews. They walked through " dry places,"
seeking rest, but found it not. They were quickly pursued
into the plains of heathenism by the emissaries of Christianity. There elapsed but a little time after the Resurrection and Ascension of Christ, before the first preachers of
Christianity went forth to the assault of the idolatry and
ignorance of a long-benighted world. They gave no quarter to the spirits of evil. Denouncing fearlessly every
abomination, though all that was ancestral sanctioned and
hallowed its mysteries, and prejudice and interest conspired
to uphold them, these champions of truth would be content
with nothing but the casting down of temples at whose altars unclean spirits presided, and the rooting up of groves,
from whose recesses they breathed out their oracles. And
though there was not an immediate demolition of the huge
fabric of superstition, a success so marked attended this
bold crusade against error, that multitudes in every land
threw away their idols, and a contempt for false gods became visible even amongst those who still refused to ac2




18                 THE RETURN OF              [LECT
knowledge the true. And thus there was no rest in the
dry places for the unclean spirits. There was a general
unsettlement in men's minds. Thousand renounced the
falsehoods of heathenism, whilst those who adhered to
them were dissatisfied with the system. So that the demons
felt that they had no longer a firm hold on the Pagan pop.
ulation. There were clear indications of a far-spreading
revolution, which, though it might be delayed for a time,
would finally substitute Christianity for heathenism. And
therefore the unclean spirits, whom the preaching and
miracles of Jesus had driven from Judaea, were now driven
from the dry places of the Gentiles by the preaching and
miracles of the Apostles. Whither then shall they resort?
The parable represents them as determining to return to
their houses whence they came out. They calculated that,
possibly, they might again find that rest amongst the Jews,
which they had sought in vain amongst the Gentiles. They
hurried back, therefore, to examine their former dwelling;
and they found it " empty, swept, and garnished."
The Jews had indeed crucified their Lord: but nevertheless the door of mercy was not yet closed: the proclamations of pardon were circulating through their land;
and He, whom they had slain, " exalted to be a Prince and
a Saviour," still'offered, if they would acknowledge their
wickedness, to shelter them from destruction. There had
been, however, no general acceptance of the proffer; and
the body of the people, who had been " swept," as it were,
by awful warning and pathetic entreaty, and " garnished"
with mercies which proved eloquently the long-suffering of
God, refused to admit the Redeemer into their hearts, and
thus stood " empty," unoccupied, and ready to receive back




I.]            THE DISPOSSESSED SPIRIT.            19
the ejected spirits of evil. And then came the final casting
off of the nation. The last and crowning attestation to
the mission of Christ had wrought no conviction.  The
Spirit had been poured out, communicating to the preachers of the faith the most extraordinary powers, and thus
witnessing, as it would have seemed, with irresistible force,
to the truth of the proclaimed doctrines and facts. But
the people resisted this testimony, with the same obstinacy
with which they had resisted every other, and thus committed the unpardonable sin-unpardonable, not because
any sin can literally overpass the forgiving mercies of God,
but because, the last evidence to the truth of Christianity
having failed to subdue infidelity, there lay a direct impossibility against the reception of Christ as a propitiation.
And now, therefore, " swept and garnished"-swept by
the rushing of the mighty wind of Pentecost, and garnished
with the trophies of baffled disease and vanquished death
-the nation stood forth a nation of scorners; and whilst
there went forwards in their streets the preaching of the
Resurrection, and they were entreated to fill up with an Incarnate Deity the vast void which they felt in their undying souls, they blasphemously refused to admit the Mediator
into the untenanted chambers, and thus left free the space
to the incursions of the unclean spirits. With the noiseless
but rapid march of the pestilence, the troop of demons,
strengthened both in numbers and energies, rushed into
the unoccupied dwellings, and grasped again the sovereignty from which they had been ejected. Expelled from the
"dry places" of heathenism, they poised themselves, so to
speak, on their raven wings, over the scene of their former
dominion; and perceiving that the throne had been refused




20                 THE RETURN OF                [LECT,
to the rightful Lord, they came down, thirsting for human
blood; and, with the only laugh which fiends can laugh, the
laugh at bringing others to share their fire and their shame,
buried themselves in the nation's heart, and Judoea was
their own. And, oh! indeed, the last state of that generation was worse than the first. If you consult the histories
of the period between the Crucifixion of Christ and the
destruction of Jerusalem, you will find the Jews presenting
all the aspect of a possessed and maddened people, acting
as though furies were gnawing at the vitals of society, and
causing every member, from the highest to the lowest, to
gnash the teeth, and wring the hands. Magicians and impostors overran the land, seducing thousands, and drawing
upon them, as upon rebels, the vengeance of the Romans.
The sword was never sheathed: and when foreign armies
ceased, for a moment, to harass, civil discord blazed out,
and each man's hand was turned against his fellow. Never
was there, indeed, a more disastrous spectacle. You can
give no explanation how a people could be thus torn, and distracted, and infuriated, except that there were harboured unclean spirits in their breasts; and that these demons, playing
with the souls and the limbs of their vassals, proclaimed a
carnival to war, and ghastliness, and suicide. And there were
no signs of turning unto God. The nation writhed in agony,
but bent not the knee in penitence. They answered to the
awful description of the men, upon whom the fifth vial
is poured, who are said to " gnaw their tongues for pain,
and to blaspheme the God of Heaven because of their
pains, and their sores, and to repent not of their deeds."
The end came on, and the unclean spirits girded themselves for their last revelry.  Was it these spirits-for




I.]           THE DISPOSSESSED SPIRIT.           21
Satan is the Prince of the power of the air-who caused
the war chariots to career along the clouds; who hung the
sword of fire over the city; who breathed mysterious
sounds as of a multitude departing from the Temple, or of
Divinity forsaking its shrine; and who produced all that
series of prodigies, which even heathen historians describe
as heralding the downfall of Jerusalem? It may be that
demons delighted in thus causing alarm, when they knew
that alarm. would not lead to repentance.  But, at all
events, the siege of Jerusalem, ushered in with these fearful signs, gave opportunity to the demons to let loose all
their madness. We speak not of the famine, though a
demon must have seized on that mother, who slew her infant, and dressed it for food.  We speak not of the
slaughter, though their conqueror Titus was the mildest
of men, and demons must have goaded them to the compelling him to carnage. We speak of the broad marks of
a national madness, of a national demoniacal possession.
Shut up in the city, the opposite factions filled even the
Temple with slaughter, as though there had not been
enough of foreign enemies.  They destroyed the very
granaries of corn which should have sustained them, and
burnt the magazines of arms which should have defended
them. With their own hands they set the first fire to the
porticoes of the Temple, and taught their conquerors to
desecrate the Sanctuary. And how account we for this
strangeness of fury? What explanation can we give of
such unparalleled infatuation? Oh, we can only say, that
the unclean spirits had come back from the dry places of
the Gentiles, and that they had entered into the Jews with
a sevenfold mightiness; and that now, lashing the popula



22                 THE RETURN OF               [LECT.
tion into madness, and determined to have their fill of
human agony, ere the devoted nation was ground into
powder, and sprinkled over the globe, they were working
out for all posterity a proof of the assertion, "The last
state of that man is worse than the first."
But we cannot pursue further the application of our
parable to the Jews. We think that we have said enough
to show you the fidelity of the sketch; and we leave it to
your own minds to fill up in greater detail the outlines.
WVe proceed to apply briefly the parable to ourselves.
We shall attempt nothing beyond grasping and illustrating the general idea; for undoubtedly it was the main
design of the parable to convey one great lesson, though
sundry minute circumstances are introduced into the allegory. We take this general idea to be, that conviction of
sin, which does not end in conversion, hardens, in place of'benefitting, a man. We will strive to exhibit this idea,
and to demonstrate its truth by a few statements which all
may comprehend. Now men will come up to the public
preaching of the word, though the master natural-passion,
whatever it be, retains undisputed dominion. And this
passion may be avarice, or voluptuousness, or ambition, or
envy, or pride. But however characterized, the unclean
spirit is brought into the sanctuary, and exposed, so to
speak, to the exorcisms of the preacher. And who shall
say what a disturbing force the sermon will often put
forth against the master-passion; how frequently the word
of the living God, delivered in earnestness and effect, shall
have almost made a breach in the strong-holds of Satan?
If the demon ever tremble for his ascendancy, it is when
the preacher has riveted the attention of the possessed in



I.]            THE DISPOSSESSED SPIRIT.           23
dividual; and after describing and denouncing the covetoils, or exhibiting the voluptuary, or exposing the madness
and misery of the proud, comes down on that individual
with the startling announcement, "Thou art the man."
And the individual will go away from the sanctuary,
thproughly convinced of the duty of ejecting the unclean
spirit; and he will form, and, for a while, he will act on,
the resolution of wrestling against pride, or of mortifying
lust, or of renouncing avarice. So that the demon may
be said to go out of the man, having yielded to the exorcisms of the preacher.
But then the individual, in whom conviction has been
wrought, is acting in his own strength, and, having no
consciousness of the infirmities of his nature, seeks not to
God's Spirit for assistance. In a little time, therefore, all
the impression will wear away. He saw only the danger
of sin; he went not on to see its vileness; and the mind
soon habituates itself, or soon grows indifferent, to the
contemplation of danger, and, above all, when perhaps
distant. He will therefore allow  the conviction, which
had not indeed penetrated below the surface, to be swept
off. Nay, he will even garnish his soul with a sort of
hardy persuasion that the preacher exaggerated the danger, and that the master-passion mtay be indulged with
comparative impunity. And thus swept, and thus garnished, he returns to his old haunts. The unclean spirit,
which had hovered round him during his brief hour of
amendment, is reinstated in the sovereignty of the soul.
And whether it be to money-making that he again gives
himself, or to sensuality, or to ambition, he will enter into
the pursuit with an eagerness heightened by abstinence;




24                  THE RETURN OF               [LECT.
and thus the result shall be practically the same as though
the unclean spirit had leagued seven others with himself,
and those too more consummate and more awful in their
wickedness. And if the man, after this ejectment and
restoration of the unclean spirit, come again to the sanctuary, and if again the preacher denounce with a righteous vehemence every working of ungodliness, and make
a bold stand for God and for truth against a reckless and
unbelieving generation, alas! the man who has felt convictions, and smothered them, will be more inaccessible than
ever, and more impervious. He will be hardened by the
process through which he has passed of the casting out,
and receiving back, the master-passion. It will acquire a
far mightier instrumentality than before to make the very
lightest impression: a smothered conviction is like a triple
band' of brass round the evil spirit's throne.
We especially wish this application of the parable
treasured up in your memories. Ye may learn from it the
peril of trifling with convictions. The parable, when thus
interpreted, is one of the most striking delineations which
the Scriptures present, of a truth which should be always
borne in mind, that he, who takes a step towards God,
and then draws back, does not fall again into his old position; he will be further off than if he had never approached; if the advance was an inch, the retreat will be
a league. And when you think that there the man is now
sitting, unmoved by the terrors of the word; that he can
listen with indifference to the very truths which once
agitated him; and that, as a consequence on the re-entrance of the unclean spirit, he has more of the marble in
his composition than before, more of the ice, more of the




I.]           THE DISPOSSESSED SPIRIT.            25
iron; and that thus the likelihood of his salvation is fearfully diminished; oh, you can need no proof of the justice
of the verdict, that " the last state of that man is worse
than the first."
Might not the parable before us admit of a national,
as well as of an individual, application? It were, of course,
easy to illustrate over again the general idea, just altering
our language, so that nation might be substituted for individual. If a people be moved by the startling sermons
of God's judgments — by pestilence, for example, or by
famine-to humble themselves before Him, and to put
away from them some fractions of their wickedness; and
if, when health is restored, or plenty again smiles on their
plains, they forget the Almighty, and return, every man,
to his iniquities; why assuredly we have here, as well as
with an individual, the casting out, and the taking back,
of the unclean spirit; and we conclude, on precisely the
same principles, that the last state of that land shall be
worse than the first.
But we cannot conceal our persuasion that the parable
sketches, with a still stronger pencil, the possible conduct
and condition of a nation circumstanced like our own.
We occupy so precisely the position which the Jews
occupied as a peculiar people, that there is always an antecedent probability that what sketches nationally the one,
may sketch also nationally the other. And if we look to
England at the period of the Reformation, we find that
men, raised up by God, and endowed of Him with singular boldness, and wisdom, and piety, exorcised the unclean
spirit of Romish superstition, and ejected from amongst us
the corruptions of Popery. It was a sublime moral revo



'26                THE RETURN OF                [LECT
lution, and never did the human mind struggle free from a
more oppressive shackle, never was there thrown off from
a people a mightier weight, than when Reformers had won
the hard-fought battle, and Protestantism was enthroned
as the religion of these realms. But we should like to
have it carefully considered, whether there have been no
receiving back the unclean spirit. The human mind, long
enslaved, was intoxicated with its freedom, and, in place
of stopping at liberty, went on to lawlessness. Hence the
overspreading of the land with a thousand sects and a
thousand systems; as though, in casting out the one spirit
of ecclesiastical tyranny, we had taken in the seven of
ecclesiastical disunion. And over and above this melancholy disruption of the visible Church, Popery itself has
too often found a home in our Protestantism: for whenever formality has insinuated itself into religion, or selfrighteousness, or the substitution of means for an end,
then has there been introduced the very essence of Romanism: the ejected spirit has come back, the same in
nature, though less repulsive in appearance. We speak,
of course, of the great mass of Protestants; and no one,
who is acquainted with the English ecclesiastical history
since the period of the Reformation, can call it an exaggerated statement, that the torn and shattered condition
of Christians rent into a thousand parties, and the nominal
Protestantism, which has taken the place of professed
Popery, with a great mass of our community, furnish
melancholy evidence, that, in place of being finally rid of
the unclean spirit, he has found harbourage amongst us for
himself and his allies.
And, as though this were not enough, have we not, of




I.]            THE DISPOSSESSED SPIRIT.           21
late years, as a nation, ay, and even as a Church, tampered
with Popery, almost as though we had sent embassages to
the dry places, soliciting the cast-out spirit to return openly
and undisguised? Therefore has it come to pass that we
are in our present extraordinary predicament, obliged to
rouse ourselves as though against the forces of an invader,
menaced with the loss of that pure form of faith which we
received from the Reformers, and with the re-establishment
of the system which those venerated men lived, and which
they died, to eject. There must be no relaxation in our
resistance, to Popery; the parable before us is most emphatic in its warning; if we receive back the evil spirit, he
will come, having taken to himself seven other spirits more
wicked than himself; and " the last state of that land shall
be worse than the first."  0 England, honoured by the
Almighty, as no other land hath been, a speck upon the
waters, and yet chief amongst the nations, may not Christ
speak to thee in something of the same sad, reproachful
words with which He spake to Jerusalem: "How often
would I have gathered thy children together, as a hen doth
gather her brood under her wings, and ye would not."
Not indeed that the " things which belong to thy peace are
hidden from thine eyes." God be praised, we are not yet
come to that! But we may be on the high road. We have
had unexampled privileges: have we not neglected them?
have we duly improved them? " What could have been
done more to the vineyard that has not been done?" God
raised up men to exorcise the evil spirit. But if we permit that, under one shape or another, the spirit shall come
back; if we allow the marks and defences of true Protestantism  to be "swept" from the land; if we " garnish"




28                 THE RETURN OF                 [LECT,
ourselves with that spurious liberality which would sink
the difference of creeds, and represent the distinctions as
unimportant between the Reformed and the Roman, why
then, swept and garnished, we stand ready for a fresh surrender to the tyranny of Anti-Christ, whether in the form
of Popery, or his last form of infidelity.
Then, truly, shall the last state be worse than the first.
But we are not come to this. These are but words of
warning, rather than of denunciation. Still, we must say,
however hopeful the recent signs of vitality and vigour in
the Protestantism of the land, Oh that the many mercies
which are still continued to us as a nation, might lead us to
consider well the return which God looks for at our hands!
The parable before us has indeed a national, just as well as an
individual, application. But, in neither case, even if there
have been a receiving back of the evil spirit, even if he
have returned with sevenfold might, in neither case is there
necessity that we retain this spirit. We may, through
God's help, eject it nationally; we may, through God's
help, eject it individually. We may eject it nationally.
We may put from us our sabbath-breaking, our covetousness, our pride, our indifference, and -thus become Protestants in something better than name, living protests for truth,
bold witnesses for God; and over a Protestantism such as
this, even though no acts of Parliament should come to its
aid, there is no power in Rome which shall ever ride rampant. And we may eject the unclean spirit individually.
Whatever that unclean spirit be,-whether the spirit of
avarice, or of lust, or of pride, or of malice,-which of you
is compelled to continue harbouring this spirit? which of
you is forced to give up his heart to be the temple of this




I.]             THE DISPOSSESSED SPIRIT.             29
spirit? who is necessitated to remain the miser or the sensualist? The unclean spirit can only stay whilst you make
him welcome.  "Resist the devil, and he will flee from
you."  There is a mightier than he proffering you assistance. And, oh!'if a nation or an individual will do battle
once more with the unclean spirit, in the strength of the
living God, once more shall he be cast out, and forced to
seek rest in the dry places of the earth; and of that nation, or that individual, it may yet be true, that though
there have been a second state worse than the first, the last
state shall be blessed, the last shall be triumphant.




LECTURE II.
nunqr fronm te  anrk.
DEUT. xxxii. 13.
"He made him ride on the high places of the earth, that he might eat the increase of the
fields; and he made him to suck honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty rock."'" A LAND flowing with milk and honey," was the description
of the Canaan promised to the Israelites. " A land flowing
with milk and honey," describes also the Christian's present
inheritance, and still more the possession reserved for him
in Heaven.   Our text occurs in the song of Moses, that
sublime composition in which, ere he ascended Mount Nebo
to die, the lawgiver reviewed God's dealings with his people,
and foretold what should befall them, if they turned aside
to the service of idols. It is in anticipation of their entrance into Canaan, that he speaks of their eating the increase of the fields, and sucking honey out of the rock;
so that, whilst the past tense is employed, the passage must
be regarded as prophetic. And forasmuch as the history
of the Israelites is confessedly a typical or figurative history,
sketching, as in parable, much that befalls the Christian
Church in general, and its members in particular, we may
expect that the prophecy before us will find its accomplish



HONEY FROM THE ROCK.               31
ment in the experience of true disciples of Christ in every
nation and age.
This is the use which, on the present occasion, we
would make of the text. You can have no difficulty in
understanding it in its primary application to the children
of Israel. God emphatically made them "'ride on the
high places of the earth;" He "caused Israel, as a triumphant conqueror, riding in grand procession, to possess
the fortified cities and inaccessible mountains, which the
Canaanites thought secure firom their assaults." "' In this
fertile land, the rocky parts which were the least valued,
and which, in other countries, are generally unproductive,
by the peculiar blessing of God, afforded them abundance
of the finest honey and oil." Thus taken, the text is little
more than an assertion of the extraordinary richness of
the productions of Canaan,-productions to be enjoyed
by the obedient, who should yield themselves unreservedly to the commandments of God. But, as we have
already observed, every thing about the Jewish people
was significative or emblematical: Canaan itself was a
type of the condition, both here and hereafter, of the
disciples of Christ. Whatsoever, therefore, the terms by
which the richness of the literal Canaan is described, or
the favoured condition of its inhabitants, we may justly
suppose that these terms, metaphorically taken, are expressive of the provision made in Christ for His Church,
of the privileges appertaining to those who love Him,
and trust in Him, with all the heart, and soul, and
strength.
There cannot, then, be any thing forced in the application which we shall make of our text, if we consider it as




32             HONEY FROM THE ROCK.             [LECT.
delineating what may be the happy portion of Christians.
We say, what may be; for you are not to regard the
verse as describing what all Christians enjoy, so much as
what those may expect who are serving the Lord with the
greatest devotedness.  There is an evident indication in
the text of struggle and conquest as preceding the possession of the rich produce of Canaan. This we wish you
particularly to observe. The riding on the high places of
the earth, is in order to, is preparatory to, the eating of
" the increase of the fields;" as though that eating were
in recompense of mastery won over the strong-holds of
the enemy. This having been premised, let us go straightway to the considering the import of the promises which
may be said to be contained in our text: the first, a
promise, that when, through God's help, a Christian has
wrestled with and overcome his enemies, he shall " eat the
increase of the fields;" the second, a promise that he shall
" suck honey out of the rock, and oil out of the flinty
rock."
Now it is a truth, of which you should often be
reminded, that Christianity, as it was not set up at once in
the world, but left to make its way, by slow and painful
struggles, towards a dominion which it has not yet attained, so it is progressive, and not instantaneous, in
acquiring empire in individual cases. There may be no
inconsiderable analogy between the history of Christianity
in the world, and its history in the individual. Christianity, when first published, made rapid way, as though
but few years could elapse erc: every false system would
vanish before it.  Then came interruptions, backsliding,
degeneracy; and afterwards, repentance, partial reforma



II.]            HONEY FROM THE ROCK.              33
tions, and heartier endeavours. But the consummation is
still a thing only of hope; and Christ must re-appear in
power and great majesty, ere his religion shall prevail in
every household and every heart. In like manner, the
converted individual devotes himself, at first, with the
greatest ardency, to the duties of religion: after a while,
too commonly, the ardency declines; duties are partially
neglected, or languidly performed: then the man is roused
afresh, and labours, in bitterness of spirit, to recover the
ground so unhappily lost; but though, on the whole, he
advances, there remains much land to be won by religion;
and it will not be before "the day of the Lord" that he
is " sanctified wholly in body, soul, and spirit." Nevertheless, the true character of religion in both cases is that of
progressiveness; or rather, perhaps, we should say, of an
inability to be stationary: it may not always be on the
advance; but, if not on the advance, we may conclude it
on the decline; for there is that in its nature which forbids the standing still.  "To be perfect, even as our
Father which is in Heaven is perfect," may not be looked
for whilst we dwell in the flesh: but nothing less must be
our desire, nothing less our aim; and it ought to suggest
a thought, whether we have ever commenced in religion,
if we feel content, though we have not attained to perfection.
The believer has all along to struggle with indwelling sin, to keep under the body, to study, that he may
copy, the example of Christ, to labour at the cleansing
himself of all the filthiness of the flesh and spirit, and
perfecting holiness in the fear of the Lord. And beyond
question, there is required, in order to this, much of pain3




34             HONEY FROM THE ROCK.             [LECT.
ful and perilous effort. It is no easy thing to maintain
war with the world, the flesh, and the devil; to be always
on the watch for occasions of mastering ourselves, or on
the alert to seize means for acquiring greater conformity
to the image of our Lord. But if the duty be painful, it
is in the highest degree profitable; for God hath so associated our happiness with holiness, He hath made us so
dependent, both here and hereafter, for acquaintance with
Himself, which is the soul's great joy, on our diligence in
endeavouring to keep his commandments, that, if we
thought of nothing but how to multiply our gladness
and peace, we should labour at. nothing but how we may
destroy the remainders of sin, and cleanse thoroughly
that Temple in which it pleases the Almighty to dwell.
And there is no respect in which the present advantageousness of unwearied diligence in our heavenly calling is more evidenced than in this, that, in proportion as
we become more spiritually-minded, the beauties of Scripture are more and more unveiled. Not in vain is it said,
" Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God."
It is not so much the darkness of the understanding, as
the darkness of the heart, which prevents the view of
God as revealed in his word: our evil passions weave the
mist which obscures those high truths that are gathered
into the statements of the Bible. And if we would know
more and more of the precious stores which the sacred
Volume contains, it is not so much by hard study, as by
hard self-discipline, that we may hope to prevail: commentators may do something towards solving what is
difficult, and elucidating what is obscure; but the best
commentator is the mortifying sin, and the imitating




II.]            HONEY FROM THE ROCK.               35
Christ. I should say that he who had just won some
great victory over himself, or made some great sacrifice in
the service of God, was better, more hopefully situated
for unravelling the intricacies, and apprehending the
secrets, of the Bible, than if he had suddenly gained acquaintance with the laws of criticism, and the illustrations
of learning.
And may we not fairly say that something of this kind
is figuratively asserted in our text, where the "riding on
the high places of the earth" is made to conduct to the
being fed with "the increase of the fields?"  "The increase of the fields"-" Man doth not live by bread alone;
but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of
the Lord doth man live." Every word is precious, fitted
for the nourishing of the soul, that immortal part which
craves other sustenance than earth can furnish. But some
portions of what the field yields are finer than othersdeclarations which are more expressive of the tenderness,
the graciousness of God; doctrines which are less obvious,
but richer in comfort; promises which breathe more of
the depth, the intenseness of heaven-these are specially
"the increase of the fields"-what it does not yield at
first, but after time and tillage; and with these will God
feed those who ride, so to speak, " on the high places of
the earth," scaling, with the Israelites, the loftiest towers,
that they may expel the Canaanite from his fortress, or
sin from  its lurking-place. A man, when he begins in
religion, lives commonly, if we may keep up the simile,
on the plainer parts of the Bible: the great facts of an
Atonement, a propitiation for sin, reconciliation to God
through the suretyship of a Mediator, these are his sus



36              HONEY FRO.M THE ROCK.            [LECT.
tenance; and verily through his firm  faith in these, he
feeds on that bread of life which came down from heaven.
But whilst such truths never cease to be sweet to his
taste, and strengthening to his soul, he will, as he perseveres in righteousness, as he rides, that is, more and more
on the high places of the earth-subduing the towering
eminences of the world and the flesh-as he does this, he
will, we say, discover and appropriate other truths-the
truths, for example, of God's electing love, of the actual
indwelling of God in the soul, of the present commencement and communication of heavenly joys, of such an
union between the several parts of the mystical body as
was intended by the Saviour when He prayed on behalf
of his followers, "that they may be one, even as we are
one." Such truths may be regarded as, in a special sense,
" the increase of the fields" —what the land yields to the
patient and persevering husbandman.  There is such a
thing, according to the Apostle, as the continuing in infancy, and being fed with milk: there is also such a thing
as the advancing to manhood, and being fed with meat;
and this is but another allegorical representation of what
seems figured in our text, that some may eat of what the
field yields of itself, whilst the choice increase is reserved
for such as toil earnestly at subduing the land.
Not indeed th:t the higher truths are wholly different
from the other; for Christ must be the staple in all food
of the soul-they are rather the same truths, but in a
more refined and exquisite state, prepared for those " who
have tasted the good word of God, and the powers of the
world to come."  Oh, my brethren, let it never be regarded by you as the mere wandering of enthusiasm, nor




II.]            HONEY FROM THE ROCK.              37
resolved into the fancy of the mystic, that there is to be
attained by man, in his sojourning upon earth, an intimate
communion, or correspondence with his Heavenly Father,
a real though spiritual intercourse, so that God shall discover his perfections to the soul, and manifest Himself
c" even as He doth not to the world."  In place of regarding such seasons as only dreamed of in a heated and
transcendental theology, we would press upon you the
endeavouring to make them matter of personal experience, assuring you that, if you are going on, as you should
be, towards perfection, you will find truth after truth
unfolded to the mind, just as though the heavenly teacher
were actually at your side, expounding to you the Scriptures, and making the heart burn within you, as He caused
the magnificence of the invisible world to pass before you
in glorious procession. This is not setting you to seek
what is mystical and indefinite, rather than what is practical and palpable. For we tell you unreservedly that there
is no way of acquiring these richer privileges of the believer,
but the highway of holiness; and that, if you would enjoy
the especial communications of God to the soul; if you
would find delight in the deeper truths of Scripture, if
you would anticipate the blessedness of heaven, your only
course is perseverance in self-denial, the giving unwearied
diligence to "cadorn in all things the doctrine of the
Saviour."  Do this, this which, in the figurative language
of our text, is the riding on the high places of the
earth, and we may promise you that you shall not be
always in doubt as to your final acceptance: you shall
know something of " the full assurance of hope:" you shall
find such precious truths as these brought home to the




38             HONEY FROM THE ROCK.             [LECT.
soul, "My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and
they follow me; and they shall never perish, neither shall
any pluck them out of my hand:" " All things are yours,
whether life or death, things present or things to comie, all
are yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's." And
as you realize, in unwonted measure, the presence and
preciousness of the Redeemer, and gather from the darker
-(but only dark with excess of burning light)-the darker
intimations of Scripture, how your salvation is wound up
with all the attributes and purposes of Deity, you will
thankfully confess, that, if the field yield food for the sustenance of all who follow Christ, there is special provision
for such as follow Him with the greater constancy and
devotedness, led by Him to successive conquests over foes
entrenched in lofty strong-holds-and that of these it may
be said, according to the image of the text, that God hath
"made them ride on the high places of the earth, that
they might eat of the increase of the fields."
We proceed to consider the second part of the prophecy or promise of our text, that which has to do with
the obtaining honey from the rock, and oil from the flinty
rock. This part perhaps goes even further than the first,
in connecting the blessing with diligence in those on whom
it is conferred. If honey be obtained from the rock, the
rock must be climbed: and since it will not lie on the
surface, every cleft or fissure must be carefully exploredso that the promise appears specially to presuppose labour,
and therefore bears out what we have all along argued,
that the text belongs peculiarly to those who are "working out their salvation" with more than ordinary earnestness.




II.]            HONEY FROM THE ROCK.              39
But, however it may be supposed that bees might
swarm in the clefts of the rocks, and that thus there
might be literally "honey from the rock," there would
seem to be a sort of opposition intended between the
thing produced and the place which produces it: there is
nothing congruous between the place and the production:
a man may find shelter under a rock, or he may make a
foundation of a rock; but "honey firom the rock" is what
he would perhaps never expect: he would not naturally
go to the rock, if he were in want of honey; and we
must not overlook this peculiarity of the promise, for it is
full, as we shall find, of interest and instruction. You
know that the figure of a rock or a stone, is very frequently employed in the Bible to represent the person or
offices of our Lord. Indeed, a rock may be said to have
been the standing type of Christ through the wanderings
in,the wilderness; for the people, as St. Paul says to the
Corinthians, " drank of that spiritual rock that followed
them, and that rock was Christ."  And Christ is indeed
emphatically that rock, in the clefts or fissures of which,
so to speak, may honey be found: " it pleased the Lord to
bruise him, and put him to grief;" "but he was wounded
for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities."
The little apparent likelihood of the rock yielding honey
is paralleled by the strangedess of the fact, that Christ
conquered by yielding, or subdued death by dying. And
if you take the rock as specially that typical rock which
was smitten by Moses in Horeb, then the promise of
"honey from the rock" may be as much a promise of
peculiar privileges to such as are diligent in righteousness,
as that of eating of the increase of the fields. Every




40              HONEY FROM THE ROCK.             [LECT.
believer draws water from the rock; but the honey may
be reserved for those who " by patient continuance in welldoing" show forth eminently the praises of Him who " bare
their sins in his own body on the tree."
And there is indeed a hidden preciousness in the Saviour, in that " Rock of Ages cleft for us," which is apprehended and appreciated more and more as the believer
goes on confiding in Christ, and striving to magnify Him
in all the actions of his life. It is not merely a general
sense of the sufficiency of the Atonement which such men
obtain, a persuasion that there is provision in the Mediator
for the wants of sinners, even the very chief. They go
deeper than this: they find in Christ such stores of consolation, such " treasures of wisdom and knowledge," that
they are never weary of searching, as they are never able
to exhaust. Every necessity, as it arises, is supplied from
his fulness; every cloud scattered by his brightness; every
desire either satisfied, or its satisfaction guaranteed, by
" the unsearchable riches" of his work of Mediation.
Christ, if we may venture to use the expression, grows on
the believer; he has but little idea of what a Saviour He
is, when he first trusts Him with his soul: but, as he continues "looking  unto  Jesus," "considering  Him  that
endured such contradiction of sinners against Himself,"
meditating "the agony and bloody sweat, the cross and
the passion," he comes to know more and more of his Lord,
and is both amazed and delighted at successive discoveries
of his suitableness, his wonderfulness, his tenderness, his
immensity. It is honey, so to speak, which he now obtains
from Christ, not merely sustenance, but the most delicious
and delicate food; for, as the Saviour communicates more




II.]            HONEY FROM THE ROCK.               41
and more of his richness, exciting and gratifying an appetite which craves celestial nutriment, assuring him of his
unchangeable love, and allowing him foretastes of the
banquet that shall be spread at the marriage supper of the
Lamb-indeed, the believer will often exclaim with David
of old, "How sweet are thy words unto my taste! yea,
sweeter than honey to my mouth."
And this honey is from the rock, from the clefts of the
rock. I must go, as it were, to the wounds of the Saviour,
if I would obtain this precious and ever multiplying provision. I must be much with Him in the garden and on the
cross; for it is by studying his awful endurances, by
putting, like Thomas, though with other motives than this
doubting disciple, "my finger into the print of the nails,
and thrusting my hand into his side," that I may hope
to gain acquaintance with the mystery of Redemption,
and to find it more animating, and more comforting, as I
find it more majestically, more splendidly obscure. And
surely we may confidently say that, if there be a fulness,
a preciousness, in the Redeemer, which is ascertained,
though left unexhausted, as his mighty sacrifice is contemplated, and the lessons which it furnishes are wrought into
the practice; if there be this reward to meek, consistent,
persevering piety, that it finds deeper and deeper abundance in the Saviour, a sweetness and a richness in his
offices which give indescribable emphasis to the scriptural
expression, "the chiefest among ten thousand, and the
altogether lovely;" and if, moreover, it be Christ as bruised
and broken, pierced and riven, like the vast mass of stone
on which the thunderbolt has fallen, which yields these
choice treasures, oh, then, it must be true, that the soul




42              HONEY FROM THE ROCK.             [LECT.
which hungers and thirsts after righteousness, is not only
made to " eat of the increase of the fields," but permitted
to draw "honey from  the rock, and oil from the flinty
rock."
But whilst this is perhaps the most correct interpretation of the metaphorical expression, there is no reason
why we should not advance another which is full also
of important and interesting truth. There is an apparent
opposition, as we have already observed, between the production and the place where produced,-the production
honey, the place the rock. Honey is not what you would
naturally look for from a rock; and therefore the promise,
in its spiritual import, may fairly be regarded as denoting
that, out of what looks stern, harsh, and insuperable, God
will extract for his people, not only what shall nourish
them, but what shall be sweet to their taste. This idea is
put yet more strongly in the concluding words of the text,
"oil out of the flinty rock;" the addition of the word
"flinty" giving a stronger image of ruggedness, and therefore making the place less promising for any choice and
delicate product.
And what is denoted by the metaphor, when thus interpreted or applied, if not that affliction is made by God
to minister abundantly to the strength and comfort of his
people; so that, when brought by his Providence into
wild and rough places, they are enabled to find there even
choicer provision than in verdant and cultivated spots?
We need not adduce lengthened proof, that the promise,
thus interpreted, is verified to the letter in the experience
of the Church. The testimony of believers in every age
has been, that the season of affliction has proved a season




II.]           HONEY FROM THE ROCK.              43
of rich communication from above, a season when God'.s
faithfulness and love have been more realized than they
ever were before, at which texts of Scripture have assumed
a new and deeper meaning, and truths that hitherto had
dwelt only in the head, have made their way into the
heart, and diffused there a peace passing all understanding.
Ask the mourners of present days, or ask the mourners of
past, and with one voice, —if indeed they have received
the chastisement as from the hands of a father,-they will
assure you that God has seemed to choose the hour of
trouble as the hour in which to give the more penetrating
assurances of the graciousness of his purposes, to elevate
the affections above transient and perishable things, and
not only to centre them more fixedly on everlasting joys,
but to afford foretastes of those joys, such as were never
obtained whilst earthly happiness was unbroken and
bright. Then it commonly is, when sorrow after sorrow
has come upon the believer, and one beloved thing after an
other has departed, that the soul has the strongest' sense
of the worth of religion, of the superiority of the future
to the present, of the exquisite adaptation of the Bible to
the wants of humanity, and of the exuberant consolations
which are laid up in Christ. The Christian, with whom
every thing goes smoothly, and on whom every thing
looks smilingly, knows comparatively but little of what
God is, and what the sympathy of the Saviour with those
whose nature He assumed, and whose iniquities He bore.
His circumstances do not, as it were, bring out the tenderness of his Maker, nor put to the proof the fellow-feeling
of the Mediator. There must be darkness and dreariness
for this. But when the darkness and the dreariness come,




44             HONEY FROM THE ROCK.              [LECT.
it is as though God had been waiting for an opportunity
to shine beautifully on the soul, and Christ had reserved
the manifestations of his compassionate care and regard,
till their want would be most felt, and therefore also their
worth. We need not enlarge upon this.
The experience of the righteous is so decisive in its
testimony to the fact of affliction yielding rich spiritual
sustenance, that it were but wasting time to employ it on
proof. Honey from the rock-yea, the rock may be that
which is hewn into a sepulchre, but even then may honey
be found in its clefts. They who consign their friends,
their children, their kinsmen, to the grave, believers if
they be in Him who is " the Resurrection and the Life,"
"sorrow  not even as others which have no hope," but
draw sublime consolation from the receptacle in which
they deposit their dead. Never have they so much felt
the magnificence of tile Mediator's triumph, as in surveying the triumph of death. The opened grave is to the
eye of the Christian like an avenue, through which he can
look into the-invisible world, and discern the stupendous
results of the victory won by the Captain of his salvation.
And if you ask for an explanation of what may often be
observed, that mourners seem elevated by acquaintance
with death and the grave, as though, in scenes from which
nature recoils, they had found the material of high growth
in spiritual-mindedness, in consciousness of the saving
power of Christ, in admiration of his work, in anticipation
of its glorious consummation in their own happy experience, oh, there is nothing to be said but that it is God's
ordinary course to discover Himself most to his people,
where, on every human calculation, there is least to minis.




II.]            HONEY FROM THE ROCK.              45
ter to their joy, and thus to make good the very expressive and comprehensive promise of their not only eating
of the increase of the fields, but of their being made
"to suck honey from the rock, and oil from the flinty rock."
Such, my brethren, are some of the privileges of true
religion. The meaning of our text, as just explained or
applied, is much the same as that of a passage in the
writings of Hosea: " Behold, I will allure her, and bring
her into the wilderness, and speak comfortably unto her;
and I will give her vineyards from thence." The wilderness is not the place where we should naturally look for
vineyards, no more than is the rock for honey. But God
promises vineyards from the wilderness, and honey from
the rock-indicating, under both figures, that those dispensations which have in them most of the painful and
severe, the dreariness of the wilderness and the hardness
of the rock, are both designed and adapted to yield to
their subjects an abundance of the very choicest of spiritual provision. Yea, you must go to the wilderness for
vineyards, and to the rock for honey.  Not that there are
no vineyards except in the wilderness, and no stores of
honey except in the rock. The vine will grow in the
sunny vale, and the bee find and deposit her treasures in
the luxuriant garden; for religion is adapted as much to
prosperity as to adversity. But we take, comparatively,
little note of the vine amid a hundred other tokens of fertility, and the honey is perhaps almost untasted where
every luscious fruit is offering itself abundantly.  The
worth of the vineyard is felt, when met with in the wilderness, and the honey, to be appreciated, must be found
in the rock.




46             HONEY FROM THE ROCK.            ELECT,
Such, then, we repeat it, are some of the privileges of
true religion. And perhaps even yet our text may not
have been fully expounded. For if, in its primary application to the Jews, it denoted the sustenance to be
afforded them in Canaan, as applied to ourselves, it may
relate to the provision laid up for us in Heaven, of which
Canaan was the type. When God shall have "made us
ride on the high places of the earth," and exalted us to
his Kingdom above, the promise before us may be always
receiving accomplishment.  God shall be always communicating supplies from his own fulness, as age after age of
expansion or enlargement passes over the redeemed. And
these supplies may be still supplies of honey from the
rock. There will be no exhaustion of Christ and Redemption. Never shall glorified spirits be weary of searching
into the mysteries of grace, or leave those mysteries as
thoroughly explored. Keep up, if you will, the metaphor
of our text, and eternity shall be spent in contemplating
and examining the Rock of ages: every moment shall dis.
cover a fresh cleft —-the clefts in this rock (most strange,
but most true) fitting it to bear up the universe; and
every fresh cleft yielding fresh store of honey to satisfy
desires which shall but grow with their supply.
But we must leave these contemplations, leave them
however with the exclamation of the Prophet —an exclamation perhaps but too suitable to many now present"Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not
bread, and your labour for that which satisfieth not?"
Think not, be not so vain as to think, that you can find
satisfaction in any finite good. Ye are not to be so
cheated. Your souls are so constituted that they can find




II.]            HONEY FROM THE ROCK.               47
no resting-place except in God, nor that except through
Christ. Alas! " man walketh in a vain shadow, and disquieteth himself in vain." " He feedeth on ashes," he
pursueth shadows, and, all the while, there is bread which
hath come down from Heaven, and everlasting realities
solicit his acceptance. Be admonished, then, ye who seek
happiness in something short of God, that you seek what
is impossible. It is the cavity which might hold a planet
seeking to be filled with a sand-grain. But look for happiness in God, and look for it through Christ, and God shall
make you here " eat of the increase of the fields," for this
may specially mark the believer's portion upon earth; and
hereafter shall He satisfy you with "honey from the
rock," for this may specially mark his portion through
Eternity.




LECTURE III.
1 PETER i. 3.
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, which according to his abundaut
mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ
firom the dead."
TH-ERE are many characters under which God may'be
surveyed by the sinful, but only one under which He may
be surveyed without fear. I may think of God as Creator; and very noble is the contemplation, as immensity,
with its troop of worlds, opens itself before me, and every
where reveals the work of one hand.  I may think of God
as the moral Governor of the Universe, and then, again, it
is a magnificent contemplation, that one Being should be
sending out his inspections over whatsoever liveth, and
that, neither overcome by magnitude, nor perplexed by
multiplicity, He should note every action, and register it
for judgment.  Or I may survey God in his several attributes; I may consider Him as omnipotent, and marvel at
a power to which there is nothing great, and nothing small;
I may regard Him as omniscient, and amazement may well
possess me, as having " about my path and about my bed"
the very Being who is occupying the furthest corners of




EASTER.                    49
infinite space; I may think of God as just, for how otherwise shall He judge the world? I may think of Him as
holy-the very Heavens are not clean in his sight; I may
think of Him as benevolent-the countless tenantry of
earth, sea, and air, attest that his mercies are over all his
works.
But what is it to me, a transgressor from the womb,
that, as Creator, God has strewed immensity with his workmanship? Can I bless Him as Creator, when I may have
been created only to be miserable? What is it to me that
He should sit as universal King, and trace upon his book
all deeds and all thoughts?  Can I bless Him as moral
Governor when what He observes of me must all help to
condemn me? What is it to me that He is omnipotent?
Can I bless Him for a power which it is impossible to escape? What that He is omniscient, what that He is just,
what that He is holy? Can I bless Him for a knowledge
which must extend to my every failing, for a justice which
must pledge Him to visit every offence, for a holiness which
must cause Him to regard the sinful with aversion?  And
even if I think of Him as compassionate, and full of loving-kindness, I may indeed well bless Him and praise Him
for opening his hand, and showering down upon me mercies. But when I remember that his love must be limited
and regulated by other attributes, and that these attributes
are ranged against me as a sinner, how am I to bless Him
even as benevolent, whilst I feel that benevolence is no
security against my having to endure everlasting wretchedness?
It is thus, as we have often found occasion to tell you,
that the disciples of natural theology can see nothing
4




50                    EASTER.                  [LECT
divine in which to take refuge. We are able, without the
Bible, to see ourselves lost; but, oh! take away that Book,
and who shall know how he may be saved? Thus creation may be glorious: every star may burn with Deity,
every flower display his skill, every insect own his care;
and God may be wonderful in his every attribute, his perfections commanding our admiration, each by itself, and,
immeasurably more, in the harmonious combination; but
who, nevertheless, amongst the children of men, is to arise
and call Him blessed; who is to regard Him without terror;
who, yet more, is to make Him the object of love? But
Revelation has come in; the Gospel has been published:
and now there is a character, under which this great,
this awful, God may be viewed with emotions of exultation
and thankfulness. We cannot fall before Thee, Father of
Heaven and earth, and call Thee blessed, as Creator,
though thine hand reared the architecture of the universe, and thy breath gave it animation. We cannot call
Thee blessed, because of thy magnificent attributes, blessed
as omnipotent, blessed as omniscient, blessed as omnipresent. But, dust and ashes though we be, conceived in
sin, and shapen in iniquity, deserving thy wrath, and lying
justly under thy heavy condemnation, we can exclaim, with
the Apostle, in our text, " Blessed be the God and Father
of our Lord Jesus Christ."
You may remember that St. Paul introduces his noble
prayer on behalf of the Ephesians, in the same manner as
St. Peter his lofty thanksgiving: " For this cause I bow my
knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ."  And
we may suppose you well convinced, though you cannot
be too often reminded, that there is no other character un



III.]                 EASTER.                    51
der which God can be approached with hope by the sinfuL
Except as we come to Him through a Mediator, except,
that is, as we address Him as " the Father of our Lord
Jesus Christ," we have no plea to urge why He should answer our prayers, or listen favourably to our praises. And
at this most joyful season, we commemorate an event,
which is our standing proof that He, who undertook the
office of Mediator, was sufficient to the mighty work, and
did indeed restore that access to God which human transgression had fatally interrupted. At this season did He,
who had assumed our nature, on purpose that He might
therein undergo the penalties provoked by our sins, and
render that obedience to the law which was required, but
hopelessly, at our hands, come forth from the grave, into
which He had descended as our surety, not having seen
corruption, though He had submitted to the original curse.
And the Apostle, in our text, would evidently refer to the
resurrection of Jesus, as, in some great sense, the cause of
whatsoever spiritual blessings are now within our reach;
for he commemorates it as having been through this resurrection that God hath " begotten us again to a lively hope."
In the succeeding verses, indeed, he speaks in yet larger
terms, declaring us begotten, not only to " a lively hope,"
but "to an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that
fadeth not away,"-thus making our entrance into Heaven
altogether dependent on the resurrection of our Lord; so
that, if, in discoursing on our text, we should take a large
range, and gather within the consequences of what the
Church has just commemorated, all our privileges as Christians, we shall evidently be borne out by the context, and
not overpass the meaning of St. Peter.




52                    EASTER.                  [LECT,
We address you, then, in the words of the angels to the
women: " Come, see the place where the Lord lay." Come
and gaze on the deserted sepulchre, as on the scene where
your victory was won, and your immortality secured.
Come and see whether results were not effected, or consequences entailed, through the breaking forth of the Redeemer from the tomb, which may well urge you to chime
in with the words of triumph which constitute our text.
We desire that our Easter meditation may be animating,
but simple; and we think that St. Peter's anthem-for
such it might be called-will furnish the precise matter
which this double object requires.  Let us divide the
anthem into its component parts: there is a thing done;
there is the agency through which it is effected; there is
the thankfulness which it ought to elicit. The thing done,
is our being begotten again to a lively hope; the agency,
through which it is effected, is the resurrection of Christ;
and when these have been briefly considered, we shall be
in a position to inquire, whether there be not abundnnt
cause to exclaim, with St. Peter, " Blessed be the God and
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!"
Now we shall not insist at any length on the expression'begotten again," which is here used by St. Peter. It is
much the same with that employed by our Lord in his
discourse with Nicodemus, when He asserted the necessity
of a new birth, or a birth from above, in order to an entrance into the kingdom of Heaven. We would only
desire to impress on every one present, that to be truly
religious, implies a moral change too great to be effected
by ourselves; but hardly to be mistaken, when once
wrought by God. It must be great, too great for human




uIt.]                  EASTER.                     53
power, if it can only be described as being "begotten
again."  But if thus great, it must be perceptible; if it
may be wrought in secrecy, it must, when wrought, become palpable. And ye must seek the evidence of your
being " new creatures," in the bent of your desires, it, the
tenor of your pursuits, in the objects of your affections;
not in your external privileges, and not in your acquaintance with the scheme and doctrines of Christianity. The
grand design of Christianity, so far as you are personally
concerned, is the making you "new creatures;" and so
long as this great design is not wrought out in you, you
may be familiar with the bearings of the Gospel, and
professed admirers of its beauties; but you derive nothing
from your knowledge, but increased condemnation, a condemnation which you could not have incurred, had you
been born in a heathen land, or never grafted into a
Christian Church.
But we wish now principally to insist on its being "a
lively hope" to which you are begotten, and to treat of
the agency, or instrumentality, through which, according
to St. Peter, this new creation is effected by God. We
therefore turn at once to the event which the Church at
this time commemorates, and will examine how the resurrection of Christ stands associated with the change on
which we have spoken. You will observe at once that
the resurrection of our Lord must have been regarded by
the Apostle as giving, in some sense, all its efficacy to the
Mediatorial work, seeing that he ascribes to this single
event what we are wont to ascribe to the whole process of
redemption. We regard it, and that, too, most justly, as
owing exclusively to the interference of Christ, to his




54                     EASTER.                   [LECT,
assuming human nature, and working out in that nature
our reconciliation to God, that we can pass from a position
of death to a position of life, and be received into that
family from which we were banished by sin. It is to no
solitary part of the Mediatorial work, but to that work as
a whole, that we trace the mighty alteration in the condition of human kind,-an alteration such, that whereas,
independently on the suretyship of Christ, there remained
nothing for the race but the enduring, through eternity,
the deserts of its sins, in and through that suretyship
pardon has been made possible to all, yea, re-admission
to the happiness, and to more than the happiness, which
Adam forfeited for himself and his children.  And, therefore, if we were called to define the instrumentality,
through which the Creator has rekindled the quenched
light of this creation, or revivified fallen humanity, we
should assign the whole scheme of vicarious substitution,
and endeavour to explain from it, how God can be just,
and yet a justifier of sinners. Ihow, then, is it that St.
Peter, in stating the instrumentality which God has employed, should confine himself altogether to the resurrection of Christ?  for it is exclusively to this that he
attributes regeneration, the being "begotten again to a
lively hope."
There is but little difficulty in answering this question.
You must all be aware, that, so long as Christ lay in the
grave, no evidence was afforded that his sacrifice had been
accepted. He was still under the power of the curse,
detained as a prisoner, so that the curse was not exhausted, nor "captivity led captive."  When, however,
He cam'e forth from  the grave a conqueror over death,




III.]                  EASTER.                     55
then was there given incontestable proof that justice had
no further claim upon man, because it had none upon his
surety. The resurrection proclaimed to the universe, that
the oblation made on Calvary, had sufficed to the taking
away sin, and that, in thorough consistence with every
attribute, God might now extend mercy to a race of
transgressors. It is not that the virtue lay in the resur.
rection, rather than in the sacrifice; but that the resurrection proved the virtue of the sacrifice, attested its
acceptance, and so made a clear way for the application
of its merits. It may therefore, with the strictest truth,
be affirmed that it was in raising his Son from the dead,
that God restored hope to this fallen creation. By that
act He declared that He had reconciled the world unto
Himself, and so caused a new era to break on mankind.
Neither is this all: for we learn unequivocally from Scripture that, had not Christ risen and ascended, the Holy
Spirit would never have come down to renew the face of
the earth.  This Spirit was to descend as one of the
results of Christ's Mediation: his manifold gifts were to
be vouchsafed as the purchase of the Redeemer's death
and passion, and dispensed by that Redeemer, exalted to
the right hand of God. It might then be accurately said,
that through Christ's resurrection was there secured to
mankind that agency through which alone the lost image
of God can be re-impressed on the soul, and any thing of
moral renewal pervade the globe which sin has profaned.
And if it were through the raising of his Son from the
dead, that God stood ready to communicate the renovating influences of his Spirit, influences, without which
there could be no renewal, but through which the waste




56                     EASTER.                   [LECT.
and desert places may blossom as the rose, it follows, with
the greatest precision, that God may be said to have
begotten us again "through the resurrection of Christ."
The resurrection of Christ obtained for us, and secured
to us, the influences of the regenerating agent; and therefore it may literally be affirmed, that through this resurrection we are born anew of God.
Neither do we think it needful, in contemplating the
results, or rather the efficacies of the resurrection, to limit
the expression, " begotten again," to those cases of renewal
which it ordinarily denotes in theological language. By
speaking of our being begotten again to " a lively," or a
living, " hope," the Apostle would seem to indicate something of an universal change as having passed, through
Christ's resurrection, over this earth and its inhabitants.
And such a change did actually pass: there was substituted a living hope for a dead, throughout every department of this creation, amongst its irrational as well as its
rational tenants. It was not that heretofore there had
been no hope whatever: for man is so constituted that he
cannot live without hope: he must follow a meteor, when
there is no star on the firmament. There was hope
amongst men, even when truth had almost departed, and
ignorance of God pressed heavily on all countries and
classes. There was a hope that Deity might be propitiated; that, in some better world, the disorders of the
present might be rectified, and goodness gain the ascendency for which here it had struggled in vain. Reason did
something, in the midst of the ponderous night, to keep
men from quite parting with the expectation of immortality, and, combining the teachings of conscience with the




lingerings of tradition, caused a spectre of hope-for indeed it was never more substantial-to flit to and fro amid
the cloud and the tumult. Yes, a spectre of hope; a dead
thing; though, at times, it appeared amongst the living,
and wore something of the hue which had belonged to the
fresh and beautiful visitant, that had gladdened the earth
whilst yet unstained by sin. But they who followed this
spectre did but find themselves conducted into deeper
darkness, and deserted where they most needed guidance.
The spectre, which, to a superficial glance, presented all
the brightness and motion of life, had only to be gazed on
intently, or through the glasses of patient meditation, and
it grew fainter and fainter, till at last it faded into air, and
left the observer in increased gloom and perplexity. A
living hope, a hope that should not merely perform some
of the actions, but possess all the energies of life, that
should not merely beckon onwards, but wait to be examined and handled-this never sprang from the reveries of
philosophers, but eluded the searchings of those who
laboured most bravely to open up a path to happiness
hereafter. This hope, this living hope, paradoxical as it
may sound, could only be generated through death, and
spring only from the grave. It required, in order to its
creation, in order to its existence, that a Mediator should
die, and, by dying, sweep away the entailments of disobedience. And when, therefore, the vast debt was paid, and'each of those obstacles to our forgiveness removed, which
natural theology had in vain striven to displace, the
spectral thing vanished, and the substantial arose. The
Redeemer burst the sepulchre; and hope, living hope,
which had been entombed there since the fall, and must




58                    EASTER.                  [LECT.
have remained there, had not the mighty one entered to
dissolve the spell, sprang gloriously forth, and gleamed
and glanced over the long-darkened earth.
I know not what there was into which this living hope
did not enter. The inanimate creation confessed its presence, and has ever since expected a day when new
heavens, and a new earth, shall succeed into the place
of the old, and a richer than the lost loveliness mantle
all the scene of human habitation. The dust of buried
generations might have been said to own its revival; for
henceforward the dead awaited the sound of a trumpet,
at which they must arise and put on incorruption. And
the soul of man, heretofore perplexed by shadows, and
beguiled by meteors, felt that the way into the holiest
was indeed re-opened; and that, notwithstanding the
many offences which had seemed to preclude it from fellowship with God, there were provided for it wings on
which it might soar, and a plea which would be sure to
prevail to the obtaining for it entrance into the heavenly
city. Was it not then hope, living hope, which followed
the Redeemer as Hel brake away from death, which sprang
with Him from the sepulchre, as though it had waited
that the stone should be riven, in order that it might
emerge and re-visit the earth? We have confessed already that there was a spectre of hope, even when there
was no knowledge of Christ, a lingering form  which
haunted the globe, and cheated the weary and the lost.
But hope itself was in the grave: the spectre is of the
dead, not of the living: who shall lay the spectre, by reviving the departed? This, again and again be it said,
was the work of the Mediator: He scattered the shadows




1II.]                  EASTER.                     59
by revealing the substance. His was the office, his the
achievement, of destroying the works of the devil, and reinstating the earth in the place whence it fell. What He
undertook, He accomplished: his resurrection both completed and attested the accomplishment: but, nevertheless,
it was living hope, rather than exterminated evil, which
was the immediate result and trophy of his victory. He
did not at once annihilate death, though we know Him to
have abolished it: He did not sweep away sin, He did not
banish sorrow. To a superficial observer, the resurrection
might seem to have wrought no difference in the face of this
creation, the same dark trains of guilt and grief appearing
to traverse it in undiminished force. But the alteration
was wrought in hope: hope started from the dust, put on
her beautiful garments, spake to the prostrate, and pointed
them to days of glory and triumph. It may be that
death yet reigns: but hope, standing by the tomb of the
Redeemer, can smile even at death, and be most alive in
the midst of dissolution. "Iniquities prevail against us;"
but hope, resting on the finished work of mediation, anticipates their forgiveness, and full deliverance from their
power. The traces of devastation are yet around us: the
whole creation groaneth and travaileth in pain: tears are
still shed, hearts are still wrung: but hope, hope that cannot make ashamed, because its life is from Him  whose
word cannot fail, hope walks amid the wide desolation;
peoples it with all the imagery of restitution and gladness; and in the magnificence of a firmament, of which
the Lord God Almighty Himself shall be the sun, and in
the splendours of an inheritance into which shall enter
nothing that defileth, beholds exultingly the incontestable




60                     EASTER.                   [LECT
evidences of the complete spoiling of principality and
power.
This, this, it is, which was instantly effected through
the resurrection of Christ: other results are yet future:
but hope rose with Him from the tomb, and remained,
when He ascended, to animate those whose path is through
misery, and whose struggle with corruption. And we
may well, therefore, give our assent to the accuracy of the
representation contained in our text. Setting aside, for a
moment, the peculiar sense in which the being " begotten
again" was to be taken with respect individually to believers, who will not allow that the whole earth leapt,
as it were, into a new existence, an existence of hope, of
living hope, when the Mediator, in the strength of his
divinity, returned from the dead?  I could imagine the
step of the risen Conqueror heard in the solitude, heard in
the crowd-in the homes of the living, and among the
silences of the dead —by things animate and things inanimate-but every where wakening hope, as though the
mysterious sound broke a fatal spell, and freed the enthralled spirit. And I could suppose our text uttered by
as many, and as varied, voices as pealed on the ear of St.
John, when there rose the universal ascription of honour
to God and the Lamb —" every creature which is in
Heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and such,
as are in the sea, and all that are in them," joining in
the confession, that they had been "begotten again to a
lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the
dead."
And, surely, after having thus engaged you with proof,
that whatever of regeneration has yet passed over the




III.]                  EASTER.                     61
earth, and whatever may be looked for in future days,
ought distinctly to be traced to the resurrection of Christ
as a cause, we need not adduce lengthened argument to
show that we have reasons, at Easter, for exclaiming with
the Apostle, " Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord
Jesus Christ." Who that thinks on the provision which
has been made for the opening of the kingdom of Heaven
to all believers, for the restoration of the lost glories of
this earth, for the extirpation of evil from the universe,
for the destruction of death by a general resurrection, and
refers all this, as it ought to be referred, exclusively to the
fact, that, having diedounto sin once, Christ is alive for
evermore-can require to be urged to join in an anthem,
whose chorus shall be, "The Lord is risen, the Lord is
risen indeed?"
But let us select one blessing from the throng, that
which Easter should specially commend to our thoughts;
and let us inquire whether any will keep silence, when
praise is being woven, because there shall yet be brought
to pass the saying that is writ-ten, " Death is swallowed up
in victory?" We are not sure whether this great article
of Christian faith, the resurrection of the body, obtains its
due share of attention and affection, even amongst those
who "love the Lord Jesus in sincerity."  We rather think
that there are many, who, wearied with long struggle with
the corruptions of the flesh, and accustomed to regard and
find the body as nothinfg but an incumbrance in the highest
duties of religion, derive scarcely any delight from anticipating the Resurrection, and would hardly be conscious of
much change in their hopes and expectations, were there to
come a sudden intimation that no trumpet will sound to




62                     EASTER.                   [LEeC,
wake up the dead. There is a sort of an unacknowledged,
but prevalent feeling, as though there were a necessary
opposition between what is material and what spiritual,
and as though, in getting quit of the body, we should
become fitted for the purest and most refined happiness.
And, of course, the question is not whether God, if iHe
pleased, might make the soul, in her separation from the
body, the recipient of a very lofty and exquisite felicity.
We may admit without detriment, that the soul might be
unspeakably happy, were God pleased that it should remain,
throughout eternity, dissevered from the body; so that,
even were there no Resurrection, a Christian might confidently anticipate a portion of vast glory and blessedness.
There is, however, all the difference between the believing
that God could make the soul ineffably happy, if it pleased
Him to leave the body for ever in the grave, and the separating, in any measure, the soul from the body in our expectations of happiness, now that God hath appointed and
revealed their lasting re-union. The question is not, whether
the soul might be happy without the body: the ascertained fact is, that the soul is to be united to the body;
and that, whatever its enjoyments and occupations during
the season -of separation, the full glories and felicities of
the justified will not be attained until that which is sown
in corruption shall have been raised in incorruption. And,
therefore, if we attach little worth to the doctrine of the
Resurrection; if, regarding the body as a clog, we fix
our thoughts  on a purely spiritual happiness-purely
spiritual in the sense of having no alliance with what is
material-it is manifest that we are but substituting our
own fancies for the truths of Revelation.




III.]                 EASTER.                     63
We do not then attempt, by any abstract reasoning, to
prove to you the importance of the resurrection of the
body; we fasten you to the fact, that the body is to be
glorified as well as the soul, that the happiness of the soul
will be incomplete, until re-united to the body; and from
this we require you to learn, that you have an incalculable
interest in the great truth that the dead shall live again;
and that it is no mere speculation, which might safely be
spared from your creeds. And so soon as you thus give
its due place to the resurrection of the body, and regard
matter as well as spirit as redeemed by the Saviour, you
will rise in your estimate of "the earthly house of this
tabernacle," and shun the employing it to base and low
ends. The body cannot be an ignoble thing, which it is
emancipation to quit, and a privilege to throw aside, if the
Lord of glory shed blood for its redemption, and if He
now hold the keys of Hlades and of death, that He may
guard every atom of its dust, when dissolved, and broken
up through separation from the soul. And I can join in
the exclamation of our text, and pronounce, "Blessed be
the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ," when it
is simply our own resurrection which is regarded as the
regeneration wrought through the Mediator's. I can bless
God that this mortal is to put on immortality. I know
not of what a disembodied soul may be capable: but I
know, that, as originally created in the image of his
Maker, man was a compound being, matter and spirit;
and I conclude it, therefore, essential to his perfection,
that he should be this compound through eternity. And
this makes me thankful that the body is to rise: without
this, the second Adam cannot have won for me all that




64                     EASTER.                   [LECT.
the first Adam lost. I am thankful moreover for the
Resurrection, because, of all motives to the subduing and
keeping under the body, and to the presenting it a living
sacrifice unto God, there is none comparable, in its intenseness, to that derived from its future ap3pointments.  It
puts a sort of sacredness on the body, to regard it as
destined, with the soul, to the spiritualities of eternity, not
to be thrown aside, when its inhabitant has broken away,
and soared to a purer land, but only to be purified, that
it may again receive that inhabitant, and be its dwellingplace in the burning light of God's presence.
Not, we say, to be thrown aside. It is very easy, and
very specious, to enlarge on the folly of paying any
honour to that which must become the prey of the worm,
of conveying, with something of state, to the grave that
which is turning into a mass of corruption, and then
perhaps erecting a monument to mark the resting-place
of a certain portion of dust. If we knew nothing of a
Resurrection, if we believed that the body was to be
given over for ever to corruption, we might come to
regard it as a worthless and dishonoured thing, and to
consider that the showing it any respect, in its lifelessness
and loathsomeness, were unworthy of the rational and
degrading to the religious.  But not whilst we believe
in the general Easter of this creation.  Not whilst we
believe that the grave is but a temporary habitation,
and that what is sown a natural body is to be raised a
spiritual. The funeral ceremony attests and does homage
to the doctrine of the Resurrection. It is not in honour
of the body, as mouldering into dust, that a decent state
should attend its interment; but in honour of the body, as




III.]                  EASTER.                     65
destined to come forth gloriously and indissolubly reconstructed.  I have no affection for the tablet and the
monument, if it were only to mark where the foul worm
hath battened: but I look with pleasure on the recording
marble, as indicating a spot where the trumpet of the
Archangel shall cause a sudden and mysterious stir, and
Christ win a triumph as the Resurrection and the Life.
And we again say that the thought of what the body is
reserved for should lead to our giving due honour to the
body, and our shunning the employing its members as
instruments of unrighteousness. I should feel an awe on
entering a Temple which might be shattered and soiled,
but of which I knew, that, through a divine power, it was
to be splendidly rebuilded, and made as a shrine in whose
depths the very Deity would abide. I could not turn
that Temple to common uses: I could desecrate it neither
to the businesses nor the revelries of life; but, as I passed
along its ruined arches, or marked how its columns were
stained, I should seem to hear the approachings of the
Divinity, as He came to possess and preside; and I should
be too full of reverential dread to do aught that might
defile a structure that was yet to be so hallowed. The
body is such a Temple —shattered, if you will; soiled, if
you will-but destined to be rebuilded, and visibly occupied by Godhead. Shall I then pollute it? Shall I throng
its courts with the sheep and the oxen? Shall I burn on
its altars the fires of base passion? Oh, the man, whose
thoughts are much on the Resurrection of the body, will
be also the man whose efforts are much towards the subjugation of the body; and if it were only, that, from
knowing to what flesh is appointed, he feels nerved to the
5




66                      EASTER.                    ELECT.
wrestling with those lusts which war against the soul, he
will gladly exclaim with St. Peter, contemplating his own
Resurrection as insured by that of Christ, " Blessed be the
God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ."
Blessed indeed, for ever blessed be God, that He hath
not left us in our low estate, but hath raised up a horn of
Salvation  for us in the house of his servant David.
Blessed, for ever blessed, be God for the Gospel of his
Son Jesus Christ. But let us see to it that we have scriptural warrant for appropriating to ourselves the provisions
and promises of this Gospel.  Let us diligently remember,
according to the inference which we deduced from the
peculiar phraseology of our text, that a great and vital
change must pass over the man who is truly a believer in
Christ.  "If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature."
How striking is that expression of our Lord to Nicodemus,
" That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which
is born of the Spirit is spirit."  It is as much as to affirm
that man is all flesh through his first birth, and all spirit
through hissecond. There is no distinction allowed between soul and body; the soul is spoken of, in the one
case, as assimilated to the body, and therefore fleshly; the
body, in the other case, as assimilated to the soul, and
therefore spiritual. We can have very little difficulty in
assenting to the accuracy of the first representation; but
the best amongst us may well be staggered by the second.
There is no debate that the human soul becomes, through
transgression, of apparently the same nature with the
body, earthly in its desires and attachments; so that, notwithstanding its ethereal origin and properties, it might be
designated fleshly.  But, alas! how little is there amongst




III.]                  EASTER.                     67
Christians, from which we could infer, that if, in the natural
man, the body has dragged down the soul to the level of
the flesh, in the renewed man, the soul has elevated the
body to the level of spirit. How few have the body in
such subjection to the soul, that the dominant principle is
not carnal, but spiritual. Yet it is evident from the striking words which we have quoted from the discourse of our
Lord, that the regeneration of our nature ought to effectuate this result, or be evidenced by it; and that we stop
short of what new birth is designed to produce, so long as
the soul obtains not the ascendency, and makes not the
body its minister and auxiliary.
Let us see to it, if we profess ourselves true disciples of
Christ, that we labour incessantly as showing forth in the
life this renewal of our nature. May the words, which
are addressed to you in this place, stimulate you to the
righteous endeavour. We preach, and you listen, for Eternity. Oh then, with what faithfulness should the minister
speak, and with what meekness should the hearer receive,
the engrafted word. We can but add an earnest prayer,
that the Lord of all power and might, without whom
nothing is strong, nothing is holy, would give his blessing
with his Gospel as here feebly, but affectionately, uttered.
We know that nothing is to be done but through the influence of God's Spirit. Men are not to be converted, and,
when converted, not confirmed and edified, through processes of argument or laboured appeals. The work must
be of God; through God, and through Him alone, are our
weapons mighty to the casting down of strong-holds. But
we may expect his blessing, if you on your part, and I on
mine, seek it by diligent prayer. And having this blessing,




68                    EASTER.
we may look for great things. When the last, the great
Easter-day breaks on this creation, and thousands are being
gathered to sing the song of lMuses and the Lamb, there
may be some who, as they join the mighty orchestra, shall
remember thankfully the Gospel as heard in this place, and
bless the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, for
having here begotten them again to a lively hope.




LECTURE IV.
~wet wiitnr i (OEDrlf.
1 JOHN V. 10.
"He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in himself."
A CHRISTIAN minister should often press upon his hearers
the difference between historical and saving ifath, and entreat them to take heed lest, to the ruin of the soul, they
confound things which are so essentially distinct. We
may wonder indeed that the confusion should be made;
for it is quite clear that historical faith is, in no sense, influential; and a faith which is not influential, can hardly be
suspected of being saving.  No man's conduct, for example, is at all affected by his belief in the actions which
are ascribed to Julius Coesar. If a new history of ancient
days is put into his hands, he may store his mind with
fresh incidents, but not his heart with fresh motives: he
will never dream  of giving to his faith in the death of
some great leader or philosopher of antiquity, any uniform
dominion over his actions and conversation. He has no
personal concern with the worthies of whom  he reads:
they are nothing to him, and he is nothing to them,
except as the possession of a common nature makes a link




70             THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.           [LECT.
of association.  The chasm of many centuries separates
between himself and the heroes or sages of olden times;
and though this chasm may for a while be overleaped,
whilst he ponders their achievements, or studies their
writings, yet there is no such thing as the bringing down
antiquity into present being, annihilating the interval of
days, and walking side by side with the dead through
existing scenes and occupations.
And you will hardly require proof, that faith of this
kind is not the faith which we are called on to put in the
Gospel of Christ. If the Bible be dealt with just as we
deal with the volumes of history, satisfying ourselves first,
on external evidence, of the authenticity and credibility
of the work, and then assenting, by a cold act of the
understanding, to the veracity of the facts alleged in its
pages; certainly we shall never believe with what the
Bible itself calls belief; for the truths, to which we have
assented, become not the heart-springs by which our actions are guided. The seat, in short, of historical faith is
the head; whilst the requisition of the Almighty is, " My
son, give me thine heart;" and the head and the heart, if
not far removed in the body, are widely separated in all
that relates to vital religion.
We introduce our discourse with these few remarks on
the difference between saving and historical faith, in order
that we may point out to you the difference between the
evidences by which the two are supported. The historical
faith requires nothing but what are popularly called the
evidences of Christianity; and a volume from the hands
of such writers as Paley or Chalmers, gathering to a point
with industry and intelligence the scattered testimonies to




IV.]           TIIE WITNESS IN ONESELF.             71
the divine origin of our religion, suffices, with every inquiring mind, to produce a conviction that the Bible is no
"cunningly-devised fable."  But saving faith, whilst it
does not discard the evidences which serve as out-works
to Christianity, possesses others which. are peculiar to itself; and just as historical faith being seated in the head,
the proofs on which it rests address themselves to the
head, so saving faith being seated in the heart, in the heart
dwell the evidences to which it makes its appeal. There
has often been given melancholy proof, that men may be
thoroughly acquainted with the evidences of Christianity,
and yet be completely ignorant of its vital truths. And
the caution can never be out of place, that we confound
not the historical with the saving belief; nor conclude
that, because we can demonstrate the inspiration of Scripture, we have felt its power, and yielded to its authority.
It is essential that we bear these considerations in
mind, as we proceed to review the assertion of our text,
"' He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in
himself." The character, to which the Apostle refers, is
unquestionably that of a true believer in Christ, one who
believes to the saving of the soul, and not merely with the
assent of the understanding.  Hence, according to our
foregoing remarks, he is one who must be possessed of an
evidence widely differing from that which goes to the establishing historical faith; and, consequently, we find that
St. John affirms the existence of such.evidence, saying,
C" He that believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in
himself;" in himself, so that the witness can have nothing
whatever in common with the logic of the Schools, or the
deductions of analysis, but is a secret, though indelible




72             THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.           [LECT.
thing, graven upon tablets which are not to be surveyed by
the natural eye. The context of the passage might indeed
warrant our confining the witness to points immediately
associated with the great truth that Jesus is the Christ.
For the Apostle begins the chapter with stating, "Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ is born of God;"
and the strain of his after argument has a clear and continued reference to this first announcement. But there is
no necessity, that, in discoursing on the passage, we should
confine ourselves to this or that portion of the Gospel. The
Messiahship of Jesus is a kind of centre, whence emanate
those various truths, through belief in which we become
raised from the ruins of the fall; and no man can have
faith in Jesus as the Christ, the anointed of God, except
so far as he has faith in the life-giving doctrines which
he was anointed to proclaim. Come, then, with us to a
survey of sundry of these doctrines.  The whole Bible
may be epitomized as exhibiting man's state by nature,
and his state by grace-let us seize on these two grand
divisions; and let us labour to show you, that he that
"'believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in himself," first, to the ruin consequent on transgression; and
secondly, to the rescue perfected by redemption.
Now, it is the result only of spiritual perception, that
man beholds and recognises in himself a fallen being.  He
cannot indeed wholly shut his eyes to the ravages which
sin has made in our creation; and he must be an infidel
as to the first principles of even natural theology, if he
think that the scathed and stricken globe, on which he
dwells, is the fair unspotted world which the Almighty
regarded with infinite complacence. The traces of wrath




IV.]           THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.             79
are too manifest throughout the provinces of the earth, to
allow of doubt in any reflecting mind, that some fearful
apostacy has divided us from God, and that we stand not
in the rank which we occupied, when the Omnipotent
fashioned man after the image of Himself. But, individually considered, the great result to ourselves of the fall of
Adam has been such a prostration of -moral power, that
we have no ability of turning unto God, or of doing
things that shall be pleasing in his sight.  We are so
fallen as to be unable to rise; and herein it is that we
maintain the need of spiritual perception; for the carnal,
whilst it may distinguish, accurately enough, the lineaments of decay which demonstrate the introduction of
evil, looks upon man only as he "lieth in wickedness," and
therefore discerns nothing of his incapacity to rise. The
effort must be made, before the incapacity can be displayed; and the making the effort presupposes the operations of a higher agency than human; so that, with all the
confession which is generally and frankly put forth, of the
tremendous consequences of early rebellion, of the loss of
birthright, and of the degenerate and sunken estate of our
race, the heart of the apostacy is never approached, and
the man of historical faith cannot, in strict truth, know
himself fallen, because mere historical faith will never
lead him to strive to rise from his degradation.
But how different with the man who truly "believeth
on the Son of God."  He "hath the witness in himself."
He has been subjected to the workings of the Spirit of the
Lord. He has passed through the successive processes of
conviction and conversion. He has, it may be, long resisted the motions which would have led him to Christ,




74             THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.          [LECT
and gone about to "establish a righteousness of his own;"
and not until his own insufficiency has been practically
proved to him by repeated stumblings, when, in his own
strength, he attempted to turn unto God, has that full
change been effected which left him  " a new  creature,"
born again of an incorruptible seed. And we ask you
whether it will not necessarily come to pass, that, when
this renewed man looks into himself, and finds, in his own
experience, accumulated proof of the desperate alienation
of our nature from God-proof which has been furnished
by vain endeavours at saving -himself, and bold resistance
to the teachings of the Holy Ghost-we ask you whether
it will not come to pass that this man will so thoroughly
understand the doctrine of original sin, that he may be
affirmed to have "the witness in himself" to the moral
ruin which followed on transgression?
And not only so; but the man in question is a believer
in Christ Jesus as the High Priest of our profession, who
hath "put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself." We
often have to tell you that no correct estimate can be
formed of sin, unless we measure its enormity by the greatness of the satisfaction which was required for its pardon.
And only so far as the heinousness of sin is discovered,
can the fearfulness be felt of our condition by nature;
and therefore we may justly maintain that he alone understands rightly the fall of man, who understands rightly
the evil of transgression.  But external testimony will
never satisfy us of this evil.  Not indeed that it is impossible to gather, from such testimony, a confused and general estimate of sin. We may look at its palpable and
pestilential consequences, and hence infer its destructive




IV.]           THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.             75
and appalling properties; so that a mind, over which
none of the renewing influences of God's Spirit have
passed, may picture to itself the lengthened trains of disease and sadness and death which have darkened creation,
and fix upon sin as the desecrating cause which ushered in
the retinue. Yea, the natural mind may advance even a
step further than this: it may have an occasional dread of
approaching wrath: it may attain a consciousness, and
that, too, a painful and almost paralyzing consciousness,
that an eternal penalty is annexed to transgression of
God's law, and that all who die at enmity with the Most
High, must, in recompense of their sinfulness, be visited
with fiery indignation.
But, with all this, there is nothing which can strictly
be called knowledge of sinl; there is no faith in the sacrifice which has been offered for sin; whereas, he who
"believes on the Son of God," "hath the witness in
himself," to the immensity of sin, for he has, in himself,
a vigorous perception of the mysterious and awful things
of the Atonement. Just think what it is to gaze, with an
eye of faith, on the Redeemer of mankind, during his
career of self-denial and suffering. At each point of that
career, He stooped beneath the weight of imputed transgression; and though He was infinitely delighted to execute
the will of the Father, yet so stern and crushing was the
pressure of guilt, when laid on spotless innocence, that the
Apostle declares that even Christ "' pleased not Himself"
in the work which He had. undertaken to achieve. His
whole life was one continued oblation; and from the
moment in which the divine nature coalesced with the
human, up to that in which, amid the heavings of creation,




76            THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.          [LECI
the Mediator breathed out his soul in agony, yet in love,
the reconciliation of the sinner to a holy God was going
gradually forwards; and no pang could have been spared
from the anguish, without rendering the reconciliation
incomplete. What, then, must be the heinousness of sin,
if its pardon could be procured by nothing short of this
costly and complicated endurance! The man, who believes in the Son of God as baptized, for our sakes, with
the baptism of woe and of blood, will individualize, as it
were, the atonement. He will feel that Christ Jesus, by
his agony and passion, redeemed all; but he will also feel
that the same agony and passion would have been indispensable in order to redeem one. Had he himself stood
alone upon the earth, yea, and had he offended only in
one solitary tittle, still the same stupendous instrumentality
must have been employed; Godhead and manhood must
still have combined; and the complex person, the man
Jesus Christ, must have wrestled, and toiled, and wept,
and died; otherwise the lonely offender must have sunk
beneath the vengeance due to his lonely offence, and not
have been the less stricken by the wrath of the Almighty,
from being the single object that had roused it into
action.
And it is essential to true faith in Christ as our surety
and sacrifice, that apprehensions such as these should be
entertained by the believer. Sin is beheld through the
wounds of the Saviour; and, thus beheld, its lightest
acting is discerned to be infinitely dishonouring to God,
and infinitely destructive to man. But it is "in himself'
that the believer finds the witness. Faith brings Christ
into his heart; and then the mysteries of Calvary are




IV.]           THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.             77
developed; and the man feels his own share in the Crucifixion; feels, as we have already described, that his own
sins alone were of guilt enough to make his Salvation
impossible without that Crucifixion. And if such internal
feelings be the necessary accompaniment, or, rather, a
constituent part, of saving faith in the Lord Jesus Christ,
is it not undeniable, that "he who believeth on the Son
of God hath the witness in himself" to the heinousness of
sin; in other words, "hath the witness in himself" to the
ruin consequent on transgression?
Or, if we push the inquiry further, we may still reach
the same conclusion. The fall has entailed upon man
corrupt affections and impaired faculties; and much' of the
moral ruin, with which the earth is overspread, results
from the legacy thus fatally bequeathed. But until there
is conflict in the heart-and conflict there will be none
until the opposing principle of grace is introduced-man
remains comparatively ignorant of the actual bias and
tendency of his nature.  When, however, he "believes
on the Son of God," then he finds "a witness in himself"
to the truth of all which Scripture testifies concerning the
imbecility and iniquity of man.  Is the heart characterized as " deceitful above all things, and desperately
wicked "  Believing on Christ, he hath "the witness in
himself;" for though he "keep the heart with all diligence," yet does he find it contihually " starting aside like
a broken bow,"' and plotting treason against the Saviour.
Is it asserted that "the flesh lusteth against the Spirit,
and the Spirit against the flesh?" He hath " the witness
in himself;" for he finds, with St. Paul, " a law in his
members warring against the law of his mind, and bring



78             THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.           [LECT.
ing him into captivity to the law of sin, which is in his
members."  Are we told that "Awe are not sufficient of
ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves "  He hath
"the witness in himself;" seeing that the review of every
day covers him with confusion, showing him, that, however much may have been attempted, little or nothing
has been done, in the work of secret communion with
God. Is the Christian's life represented as a battle? is
the power, possessed by apostate spirits, described as
tremendous? is the scriptural delineation of the believer
that of a stranger and pilgrim, journeying painfully
through a moral waste, and surrounded on all sides by
malignant foes? Why, to all this, he hath " the witness
in himself." So long as he did not believe on the Son of
God, every thing went smoothly: he was not conscious of
the power of indwelling corruption, for he attempted no
resistance to that power; he knew nothing of the might
of evil spirits, for he had waged no war with these spirits;
he felt not the earth to be a wilderness, for he had made
it his home, and was enamoured of its desolations. But,
believing on the Son of God, every thing is changed. He
has been required to " crucify the flesh with its affections
and its lusts;" and he hath "the witness in himself" to
the strength of the carnal despotism.  He has been sent
into the field to " wrestle with principalities and powers;"
and he " hath the witness in himself," that their might is
only rivalled by their subtlety. He has had his hopes
turned on " a city which hath foundations, whose maker and
whose builder is God;" and the contrast between what is
promised, and what is possessed, has given him " the witness
in himself," that the things of earth are unsatisfying and vain.




IV.1           THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.            79
So that we may safely affirm, that, whatever the statements which Scripture advances in relation to the condition and circumstances entailed upon man by the fall,
the believer in Christ does not turn to any external
sources, in order to gain assurance of their truth. IIe
goes into himself. Just as it is certain that blessings must
be taken from us before we can fully appreciate their
beauty and worth. so also, in spiritual things, we must be
delivered from curses, before we can rightly estimate their
depth and their terror. It is not the man who is asleep on
the edge of a precipice, who is conscious of the awfulness
of the gulph —wake him, and his wild look, and thrilling
cry, measure to you the danger from which he finds himself delivered. We know comparatively nothing of our
natural condition, until rescued from it; the fetters are too
polished to grate, and too transparent to be commonly discerned-break them, and we learn, by the fragments, the
number and thickness of the links. Thus it is the believer
alone who can have just apprehensions of the consequences
of early apostacy; he gains those apprehensions, as we
have endeavoured to show you, from operations carried on
within the sphere of his own heart. And, therefore, take
the survey, how you will, of the evil of sin, of the degradation of man through transgression, of the blight which
has passed over his powers, of the eclipse which hath
darkened his happiness —oh, books will give you nothing
adequate, philosophy will be found at fault, a mere historical faith will leave you without any convincing demonstration, any sufficient exhibition; but this proposition remains
firm and unshaken, "He that believeth on the Son of God
hath the witness in himself."




80            THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.          [LECT.
We hasten to the second, and perhaps more obvious
truth —namely, that "he, who believeth on the Son of
God, hath the witness in himself" to the rescue perfected
by Redemption.  Now we think, that, when St. Paul
styled himself "the chief of sinners," he used language
which ought not to be explained by reference to the persecution and blasphemy, of which he had been guilty in
the days of his ignorance. It would be hard, or rather
impossible, to show that Saul of Tarsus was a sinner
" above others," because, out of blind love for the law of
Moses, he raged furiously against those who, as he thought,
were subverting that law. He sinned grievously; but he
sinned ignorantly; and the readiness with which, when
better taught, he espoused the cause which he had striven
to destroy, proved incontestably, that, however mistaken
and misdirected his zeal, he had not been actuated by any
obstinate enmity to truth and its author. We rather
think, that, in calling himself "the chief of sinners," St.
Paul used language which every renewed man would be
equally disposed to adopt. We should question whether
there could be genuine conversion, apart from this honest
appropriation of pre-eminence in sinfulness. The man may
not have been a murderer; he may not have been an adulterer; his conduct may never have been deformed by the
grosser workings of ungodliness. If the extent of sinfulness is to be computed by direct and flagrant breaches of
the precepts of the second table, there may be many of
his fellow-creatures to whom the title of "chief " is palpably more appropriate. But the principle on which this
computation proceeds, is manifestly incorrect. If we may
fairly talk of degrees in sinfulness, the circumstances of the




IV.]           THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.             81
sinner must be taken into account-his means, his opportunities, the godly motions which he has resisted, the
admonitions he has despised, the' warnings he has neglected. And then only can one man be fairly proved to
be a greater sinner than another, when, having received as
much in assistance, he has rendered back less in obedience.
But this is a calculation which we have no power of
making. Known unto God alone are the strivings of the
Spirit with the hearts of the children of men; and whilst
each amongst us may be able to answer for himself, as to
his own resistance to the motions of heavenly grace, it is
not possible that he should answer for his neighbour: we
can never tell whether the same amount of obstacle have
been placed in the path of other transgressors, as we know
to have been set before ourselves in the career of waywardness and evil; and, therefore, neither can we tell
whether another have sinned against as much of light,
and as much of grace, as we feel that we ourselves have
resisted: so that, if sinfulness be rightly estimated, estimated by what has been done, placed in juxtaposition
with what has been withstood, we maintain that every
renewed man is bound, by that charity which " hopeth all
things," to account himself "the chief of sinners,"-not
reckoning by the fact that his mnisdoings have been less
flagrant than those of another, but proceeding on the
supposition that his privileges may have been greater.
And if it be a necessary result of conversion, or of
believing on the Son of God, that a man should feel himself "the chief of sinners," then think what "a witness
he hath in himself" to the glorious truth, that "the blood
6




82             THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.          [LECT
of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin."  Faith has been
implanted in his heart; and faith is that stupendous
principle which gathers forgiveness, and propitiation, and
intercession into our homes, and makes them, as it were,
our own property, and admits us into the actual possession
of mercies, known hitherto only by name, and rumour, and
discourse; and hence the Gospel, which, when heard, was,
at best, only a pleasing sound, like that of music on the
waters, becomes, when believed in, an ample charter consigning to us a magnificent eternity. And if it be only
remembered, that, as a consequence on this appropriation,
which is effected by faith, the man becomes assured of the
forgiveness of sins, and of the complete revocation of that
edict of banishment which had gone forth against him,
in common with the countless myriads of Adam's posterity, why, whither shall he turn, except to himself,
when he. would seek evidence of the majestic plenitude
and power of redemption?  He examines his own criminality; and he is forced to the verdict that he is "the
chief of sinners."  And yet he is pardoned, reconciled,
accepted-he, the chief; he, whose case might therefore
have been pronounced the most difficult, the least hopeful; his sins are blotted out, and the blood of atonement
has prevailed to the bringing him nigh unto God. Where,
then, shall the case be found, which the virtue of Christ's
passion will not reach? Where the individual, whose
offences are so complicated, whose resistance to the Holy
Spirit has been so protracted and obstinate, that he is
utterly excluded fiom the ranges of mercy, and thrown
too far from God to be brought back by the Mediator's
blood? The believer hath " the witness in himself" that




IV.]           THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.              83
"the chief of sinners" is forgiven. But if the greatest
have found mercy, every other may find mercy. There.
fore he "hath the witness in himself" to the unbounded
fireedom with which the compassions of God extend to the
whole of human kind. He needs not argument; he requires no curious and well-arranged proofs; he looks into
himself, himself a monument of distinguishing grace, himself a brand plucked out from the burning-and, oh! he
will not ask the theological critic, or the polemical divine,
to unfold to him the greatness of salvation: he will rather
declare, with tears of gladness and thankfulness, that he
"hath the witness in himself" that "this is a faithful
saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus
came into the world to save sinners."
And, besides all this, the doctrine of the influences of
the IIoly Ghost is a prime characteristic of the Gospel
scheme; and great are the offices of this third person
in the Trinity in the work of human salvation. But the
believer has himself been made the subject of these offices;
and he can therefore feel, "in himself," the clearest
testimony to their reality and extent.  The Spirit is
represented to us as effecting such a renovation of the
creature, that, from a lover of sin, it becomes a lover of
God, and is clothed with something of the same garniture
as Adam was when he tenanted Paradise. The believer
looks into himself, and he finds himself " a new creature;"
" old things are passed away: behold, all things are
become new;" and thus he "hath the witness in himself"
to the renewing power of the Holy Ghost. And it is,
further, the office of the Spirit to lead on the new creature
from one degree, both of holiness and knowledge, to




84             THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.            [LECT,
another; not suffering him to be stationary, but training
him continually for " the inheritance of the saints."  Of
this office, also, the believer " hath the witness in himself."
His growth may be slow: often -may he be tempted to
question whether any progress is made; still, let there be
a fair comparison of different periods of the Christian life,
and marks of advance will certainly be discernible: the
workings of sin are more detected; the eye is more single;
the objects of earth are less attractive; prayer is more
earnest; praise is more fervent; and therefore it will
necessarily come to pass that he "hath the witness in
himself" that the Spirit sanctifieth all the elect people of
God. The connection between justification and sanctification, between faith as the producing cause, and works as the
necessary fruit, is thus found amongst those fundamental
truths to which the inward witness testifies. The believer
looks within; he feels that he would not barter for the
universe the persuasion that salvation is wholly of God,
and that no righteousness of his own can help forward his
acceptance with his Creator. But then he also feels that
the amazing love, which is displayed in this free redemption, binds him to God by ties a thousand times stronger
than those of legal obedience; and that the fact of nothing
being required in the way of merit, is an inducement, the
most powerful, that every thing should be attempted out
of filial affection.
We enter not now on any proof of this indissoluble
connection between simple faith, and active zeal.  We
refer to believing experience; we appeal to its records.
Has it not always been found that the strongest faith is
accompanied by the warmest love; and that, in the' very




IV,]          THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.             85
proportion in which the notion has been discarded of
works availing to justification, have works been wrought
as evidences and effects of justification?  The believer
feels and finds the truth of this " in himself." His whole
soul is drawn out towards God. As to " continuing in sin,
that grace may abound," this presupposes that he takes
pleasure in sin; whereas it is the very constitution of his
nature to hate sin; and, therefore, Antinomianism would
be to him a kind of crucifixion: he has crucified the old
nature, through the assistance of God; and now you
would make him crucify the new, in opposition to God.
No; rather he will love much, because much has been
forgiven; and whenever he feels the heart stirred within
him at the memory of the unlimited and unconditional
mercies of which he is the object, and the soul warmed
into ecstasy at the contemplation of blessings received,
and longing to show her dedication to her Almighty
Benefactor by expatiating, with tender solicitude, over a
sinful and suffering world, surely it may be said of the
believer that he hath a " witness in himself" to the illustrious truth, that, where the Spirit implants faith, it makes
that faith the stimulus to holiness.
We might, therefore, associate our text with the words
of St. Paul in writing to the Romans: " The Spirit itself
beareth witness with our spirit that we are the children of
God: and if children, then heirs; heirs of God, and joint
heirs with Christ. So thlat the secret and inward testimony, on which we have spoken, is no imaginary thing:
the believer "hath the witness in himself" by having the
Spirit in himself; and if we mention briefly some few
points in his experience, we may dismiss as proved our




86              THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.           [LECT
second proposition.  A believer, for example, has received,
at various periods of his life, clear and distinct answers to
prayer-thereforoe he "' hath the witness in himself" that
God is a God that heareth prayer. He has obtained
many victories over the world, the flesh, and the devil
-therefore he "h ath the witness in himself" that there
are CC more for him than there are against him." He has
found the darkness of affliction cheered by the light of
his Maker's countenance-therefore he " hath the witness
in himself" of God's faithfulness to his covenant engagements.  He has experienced delight in communion with
God-therefore he "hath the witness in himself" that
"' there is now no condemnation to them that are in Christ
Jesus."  lie perceives that his affections-though there be
still much of leaning to earth-are set on heavenly things
-therefore, he "Lhath the witness in himself" that he is
"risen with Christ;" and, if "risen with Christ," (O
mighty testimony, O illustrious evidence!) then he hath
also c" the witness in himself" that he, too, shall rise; that
this corruptible shall put on incorruption; this mortal
assume immortality; and that materialism, freed from all
the dishonours with which sin has burdened it, shall be
beautified into a worthy dwelling-place for the pure and
perfected soul. Nay, the witness stops not here. It goes
beyond the Resurrection. It brings within its range the
kingdom of the saints. Often, amid the sufferings of
this his probationary state, there are vouchsafed to the
believer foretastes of joys laid up at God's right hand.
His soul, rapt into the future, holds converse with the
glorious company which Heaven hath already gathered
into its capacious bosom. He asks not that eloquence




IV.]          THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.             87
should pour itself forth on an attempted description of
Paradise; or that the notes of human music should weave
themselves into melody emulous of the harpings of angels;
or that the scenery of fair landscapes should be spread
before him, figuring, by faint images, the pastures that are
watered by the river of life. He has himself gone up
into the promised land. He has brought down clusters,
like those of Eschol; and, suspending these in his soul, he
"hath the witness in himself" that it is a rich and goodly
portion which the Lord hath provided for his people.
Thus, believing on the Son of God, he " hath the witness
in himself " on every point of Christian doctrine, and every
point of Christian privilege: nothing is omitted by this
inward testimony: from the first pulse of spiritual life to
the full consummation of blessedness; from adoption into
God's family on earth to admission within the circles of
cherubim and seraphim; all that is to be learned, all that
is to be done, all that is to be enjoyed, the witness speaks
audibly concerning these; and we trust that, as we before
showed that " he that believeth on the Son of God hath
the witness in himself" to the ruin consequent on transgression, so now have we proved of the rescue effected by
redemption, that it is equally and gloriously true, that " he
which believeth on the Son of God hath the witness in
himself."
We have little to add, except to call on you not to
think it strange, that, weak and polluted as man is, he
should carry in himself so sublime a witness as that on
which we have been speaking. We bid you elevate your
apprehensions of a converted and renewed man, of a true
believer in the Lord Jesus Christ, in order that, if your



88             THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.           [LECT.
selves converted and renewed, you may know your high
calling; and if not, may be stirred to earnestness in desiring and seeking that great change without which shall
no man enter into the kingdom of Heaven. True, indeed,
it may be said of the believer, he is a frail thing, a wasting
thing, a sinful thing. But, nevertheless, he is a Temple
of the Lord God Omnipotent. Remember the question
of St. Paul, " Know ye not that your body is the Temple
of the Holy Ghost, which is in you?" And, moreover, is
not Christ expressly said to dwell in the believer's heart,
and to be found in himt, and to be one with him?  And
is it not also promised of the Father, that He will come
with the Son, and make his abode with every faithful
disciple? Behold, then,-this frail thing, this sinful thing,
is actually inhabited by Deity, —the very Trinity of Godhead possesses, occupies, and fills him: oh, then, where is
the marvel, that he, who hath such guests within himself,
should have within himself such a witness as that which
we have described!
Yes, it is on this account that the witness is so decisive
and so comforting.  It is the witness of an indwelling
Saviour, the witness of Christ formed within us, the hope
of everlasting glory. And I would have you all aspire to
the possessing this witness. I would have every one of
you able boldly to affirm, "I have the witness in myself
to splendid destinies coeval with eternity."  And if it be
said, " Child as thou art of sinfulness, heir of corruption,
whence comes it that thou canst have such witness in
thyself?" God grant that this may be your reply, "I
have Christ in myself, Christ who is styled' the true and
faithful witness."'" Why, then, shouldst thou marvel at




IV.]           THE WITNESS IN ONESELF.            89
my saying that I have "the witness in myself2"  Only,
dear brethren, remember that, as all assurance is the fruit
of God's Spirit, it must be darkened and weakened by
any indulgence in sin. Alas! if the believer be not diligent in mortifying corrupt passions, and waging war with
the world and the flesh, he will have " the witness in himself;" but it will be a witness to the melancholy truth that
God's Spirit may be grieved, and that, when grieved,
there happens what the Psalmist has so pathetically described, "Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me,
&nd a horrible dread hath overwhelmed me."




LECTURE V.
2 PETER i. 21.
" Holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost."
THE Church, during this portion of the year, appoints that
the first lessons for her daily service should be selected
from the Apocrypha.  It is not usual to take texts from
the Apocrypha, and therefore we do not attempt to follow
the public service in choosing our subjects of discourse.
We say " not usual," though in the printed volumes of
many of our eminent divines you will find sermons on
texts in the Apocrypha, so that we should not be without
precedent if we addressed you on passages from  these
uncanonical books. Though our Church differs widely
from the Roman Catholic in regard of the Apocrypha,
refusing wholly to recognise these books as inspired, she
does not authorize their being treated with that neglect
which they now commonly experience from Protestants.
These books are appointed to be publicly read: but then,
to prevent its being on this account supposed, that they
are to be accounted of equal authority with the canonical,
you find it expressly stated in the Articles, that "the




THE APOCRYPHA.                 91
Church doth read them for example of life, and instruction
of manners, but yet doth it not apply them to establish
any doctrine."
Yet if texts from the Apocrypha may not be used to
establish any doctrine, they may often be subservient to
the instruction and comfort of the Christian. How curious
and how interesting is what is related of himself by a
man as great in genius as in godliness, John Bunyan, the
author of the " Pilgrim's Progress."  " I was now," says he
when describing a season of great spiritual darkness, "I
was now quite giving up the ghost of all my hopes of
ever attaining life, when that sentence fell with weight
upon my spirit,'Look at the generations of old, and see;
did ever any trust in God, and were confounded?"' The
words enlightened and encouraged him: he went home;
he searched his Bible; but they were no where to be
found; he asked first this good man, and then another;
but they could give him no information. "At this," says
he, " I wondered that such a sentence should so suddenly,
and with such comfort and strength, seize upon my heart,
and yet that none could find it; for I doubted not but
that it was in the holy Scriptures. Thus I continued
above a year, and could not find the place: but at last,
casting my eye upon the Apocryphal books, I found it in
Ecclesiasticus,'Look at the generations of old, and see;
did ever any trust in the Lord, and was confomnded? or
did any abide in his fear, and was forsaken? or whom did
he ever despise that called upon him?"' Bunyan describes
himself as at first somewhat daunted at finding that
words which had been so useful to him were only in the
Apocrypha. But this feeling wore off, " especially," as he




92                THE APOCRYPHA.               [LECT
says, " when I considered that, though it was not in those
texts that we call holy and canonical, yet forasmuch as
this sentence was the sum and substance of many of the
promises, it was my duty to take the comfort of it; and
I bless God for that word, for it was of good to me; that
word doth still ofttimes shine before my face."
Yet whilst arguing firom this instance that the Christian
may, at times and most lawfully, derive comfort from the
Apocrypha, it will not often happen to him to confound,
as did Bunyan, the Apocrypha with the canonical Scriptures, or to suppose that what was quoted from the one
might be found in the other. There is generally no mistaking the Apocrypha for the inspired word of God.
They are so distinguished that you can tell at once, on
first hearing, which is which. And this is the first fact on
which we mean to speak to you to-day-the sameness
which there is throughout the Bible, and at the same time
the marked difference which there is between the Bible
and every other book. The text which we have taken
from St. Peter will account for this, though nothing else
will.  The writers of the Bible, "holy men of God,"
"spake as they were moved," not by their own disposition
or ability, but "as they were moved by the Holy Ghost"
-there may well be sameness, if there were but one
mover. But when this shall have been done, we should
like to show you in some particular instances, of what use
and worth the Apocryphal books may be, so that you may
accord them that measure of respect which is prescribed
by the Church. Such, then, is the plan of the remainder
of our discourse. We wish to show you that there are
advantages to be derived from reading the Apocrypha;




V.]               THE APOCRYPHA.                 93
but we must first show you how broad a separation there
is between the Apocryphal books and the Canonical, and
how such a separation is to be accounted for by the fact,
that we may apply to the one, though we cannot to the
other, the words of St. Peter in our text, " Holy men of
God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost."
Now we may venture to assert of the Bible-that is,
of what you commonly mean by the Bible, the Canonical
Books of the Old and New Testaments, —we may venture
to assert of the Bible, that, though its several parts were
composed in different ages, and therefore also by different
writers, it is an uniform book, presenting throughout the
same truths, though with great variety of exhibition, and
marked throughout by a surprising similarity of style.
What does this prove, but that the Bible must throughout
have had the same author, however that author may have
employed various scribes? It is, we think, one of the
most beautiful of contemplations, this of the sameness of
authorship which may be traced in Holy Writ. That
men, separated from each other by long intervals of time,
should have taken up successively the lofty topic of our
Redemption, and, whether in the effusions of poetry, or
the enactments of legislation, or the anticipations of Prophecy, or the narrations of history, should have told the
same truths, and announced the same mercies-and this in
a manner so peculiarly their own, that you cannot meet
with a page of their writings, from the Book of Genesis
downward to the Book of Revelation, and not instantly
recognise it as a page of the Bible-we say of this, that it
can be accounted for on no supposition, but that of each
having been moved by the same divine Spirit, so that to




94                  THE APOCRYPHA.                [LECT.
deny the Inspiration of Scripture is to make its composi.
tion more marvellous than when considered superhuman.
I seem always to hear the same voice, whether the volume
before me is informing me how the unshapen Chaos
resolved itself, at the Creator's bidding, into symmetry
and life; or men, familiar with the future, are gathering
centuries into sentences; or a lawgiver is arranging the
ceremonies of a mystic ritual; or historians are discoursing
of battles and captivities; or Evangelists describe the
institution, and Apostles unfold the doctrines, of Christianity. I seem always to hear the same voice; as though
the words of John, the exile in Patmos, were the echo of
those of Moses, the leader of Israel.  There is a vast
difference in the subjects successively touched on. But,
nevertheless, there is a tone which I always recognise, and
which always impresses the feeling, that I am hearkening
to the same speaker. There seems to be no change in the
instrument, though continual change in the sound; as if,
at one time, a whirlwind swept the chords, that I might
be startled by the treadings of wrath and devastation;
and, at another, they were touched by an angel's hand,
that I might be soothed by the melodies of mercy.
And whilst the same voice is breathed from every page
of Scripture, it never issues from  any other composition.
The Commentator cannot speak in the same tone as the
Prophet or the Evangelist.  What poet could forge a
Psalrm  which should pass with us for David's?  What
preacher construct a sermon which might ko received as
delivered by Peter or Paul?  Look at the Apocrypha.
You perceive that the scriptural style is imitated, but that
there is only imitation. We defy a man to write like the




V.]                THE APOCRYPHA.                  95
Bible, and yet all the writers in the Bible write alike.
We say, they write alike. Their styles are very different.
You have the gorgeous and the simple, the didactic and
the argumentative. But still they write alike. Whenever
you meet a scriptural quotation, you know it to be Scripture, though not acquainted with the passage. And we
affirm that there is an evidence, which ought to be irresistible, in that sameness of authorship which alone will
account for what we thus observe in the Bible. We
know no plausible explanation, if you reject that of the
Inspiration of Scripture, of the facts to which we have
referred, the facts that the same truths are delivered in
the figures and predictions of the Old Testament, and the
realities and occurrences of the New; the same scheme
carried on by the wanderings of patriarchs, the sacrifices
of priests, the ambition of kings, the sufferings of mnartyrs;
the same style preserved by the poet in his hymns, the
Prophet in his visions, the lawgiver in his codes, the historian in his annals —so that, as though the author never
died, but appeared at one time in one character, and at
another in another, the Bible comes to us as the dictate of
one mind, and the writing of one pen-Inspiration accounts
for this, but we can imagine no other solution.
This, you will observe, is the solution which, on the
teaching of the Church, we can derive from the saying of
St. Peter in our text. Not recognising the Apocryphal
books as inspired, we can indeed read with great interest
the histories which they contain, we can derive wisdom
from the sententious maxims wherein they abound; but
we are noways surprised that there should be in every
part a marked inferiority to those portions of the Canoni



96                 THE APOCRYPHA.               [LECT.
cal Scriptures, which are most closely copied, so that they
cannot be passed upon us as belonging to that volume
which we regard as the utterance of the Lord God Himself. On the other hand, we admit it indeed for a marvellous fact, that a book, whose authorship is spread over
so many centuries, and attributed in some sense to so
many writers, as we may affirm of the Bible, should bear
on it so earnestly the impress of one man, and the trace
of one pen, that its every verse, wherever met with, wherever heard, is recognised by us as taken from the Biblestill the fact, however surprising, admits of a ready explanation: we expect in the Bible the appearance of a
sameness of authorship, though we know of a diversity of
authors: we expect to find a something which shall belong
equally to Moses, and Isaiah, and Matthew, and Paul,
though there shall also be much which shall widely distinguish these writers the one from the other; for we know,
that, however different they might have been in those
varied qualities which give a varied character to the
productions of the pen, still, according to the assertion
of our text, " Holy men of God spake as they were moved
by the Holy Ghost."
Now we might insist at greater length on the remarkable differences between the Apocryphal books and the
Canonical-differences which are well worth your most attentive consideration, inasmuch as they furnish a strong argument for the Inspiration of Scripture. There is an internal
evidence in the books themselves, as compared the one with
the other, which can hardly be resisted-showing how
readily our text may be accepted as true of all the writers
of the Canonical books, but how it would lose its force and




V.]               THE APOCRYPHA.                 97
convincingness, if we attempted to apply it to the writers
of the Apocryphal. We have said enough, however, to
prevent your giving too high a standing to the Apocrypha,
or assigning to it the same worth and weight as you
assign to the Canonical Scriptures. We would now rather
engage you with some evidence of the excellence of the
Apocryphal books; for there is perhaps more danger of
your underrating than overrating these books; and as the
Church bids us now read them to you in her week-day
services, it may be well that we show you, in one or two
instances, how profitable they may be to the scriptural
student.
The remarkable fact, which we adduced from the life
of John Bunyan, will show that, though in the general, the
verses of the Apocrypha may at once be distinguished from
those of the Bible, still they will sometimes act with all the
force and all the persuasiveness of inspired sayings. In
one of her most solemn services, the administration of the
Holy Communion, the Church directs the reading of some
sentences from the Apocrypha; and possibly there may
be those amongst the hearers who scarcely know that they
are not taken from the Canonical Scriptures. When, as
the alms are being collected, the officiating minister utters
the words, " Give alms of thy goods, and never turn thy
face from any poor man; and then the face of the Lord
shall not be turned away from thee;" or, "Be merciful
after thy power; if thou hast much, give plenteously: if
thou hast little, do thy diligence gladly to give of that
little; for so gatherest thou thyself a good reward in the
day of necessity"-there may be some whom such strong
sayings stir to charity towards their destitute brethren, but
7




98                THE APOCRYPHA.               [LECT.
who never think that the Book of Tobit, not any book
which they are wont to reckon scriptural, furnished the
words which plead so effectually the cause of the poor.
And God forbid that we should for a moment imply,
that there is any want in the Canonical Scriptures of blessed and consolatory passages, which the clergyman may
adduce, when he takes his pastoral round, and visits the
house of mourning, where stricken relatives are bewailing
the dead. Indeed there is " balm in Gilead;" the promises
and assurances of the Bible are as precious as numerous;
and he can find no grief, for which he may not adduce a
soothing word in season. And yet he might sometimes
take words from the Apocrypha, and find that thev too
would come home to the sorrowing heart. I do not know
more striking words than these from the Book of Wisdom,
" But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God,
and there shall no torment touch them. In the sight of
the unwise, they seemed to die, and their departure is taken
for misery and their going from us to be utter destruction;
but they are in peace. For though they be punished in
the sight of men, yet is their hope fill of immortality."  A
"hope full of immortality"-how often are these words
used! how seldom, perhaps, is it remembered, that they
are not Scriptural, but Apocryphal!
Then, again, how exquisitely touching are the sayings
of the Book of Wisdom in regard of early death: "For
honourable age is not that which standeth in length of time,
nor that is measured by number of years. But wisdom is
the gray hair unto men, and an unspotted life is old age.
IHe pleased God, and was beloved of Him; so that, living
among sinners, he was translated. Yea, speedily was he




V.]                THE APOCRYPHA.                  99
taken away, lest that wickedness should alter his understanding, or deceit beguile his soul. HIe being made perfect
in a short time, fulfilled i long time. For his soul pleased
the Lord; therefore hasted He to take him away from
among the wicked."
Then, again, the historical Books of the Apocrypha give
much important information as to events which befell the
Jews after the Canon of the Old Testament had been closed.
And we shall now go at some length into the details of one
particular occurrence, because we may thence show you
how a passage in the Apocrypha will occasionally help to
illustrate the inspired Scripture.
You may remember that, in the eleventh chapter of his
Epistle to the Hebrews, that noble chapter wherein he
recounts so many of the exploits of faith, St. Paul has these
words: " TWomen received their dead raised to life again;
and others were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that
they might obtain a better resurrection." Now to what
women does the Apostle refer? he is bringing forward the
worthies of earlier times, whose histories are given in the
Old Testament; but amongst these, what women were
there, whose faith brought back the dead; or who, anticipating a better resurrection, submitted to tortures, and
rejected a deliverance whose price was apostacy?  There
is no difficulty in answering this question, so far as relates
to women who received back their dead. You have two
notable instances, that of the poor widow of Sarepta, whose
son was restored to her through the intercession of Elijah;
and that of the Shunammite, who, when her boy died,
hastened to Elisha upon Carmel, and had the reward of her
faith, when the Prophet stretched himself upon the child,




100               THE APOCRYPHA.                [LECT.
and "the flesh of the child waxed warm," and "the child
opened his eyes."  But where are we to find a woman who
answers to the second part of the Apostle's description,
" others were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they
might obtain a better resurrection?" The mention of a
Resurrection would lead us to search for the parties, to
whom St. Paul refers, in some late period of the Jewish
history, seeing that there is good reason to question,
whether this great article of faith were distinctly revealed
in earlier days.  It is evident, that, at the time of our
Lord's appearance upon earth, there was a general persuasion amongst the Jews of the Resurrection of the body,
only the Sadducees dissenting from the popular belief.
But it does not appear that this general persuasion had
been of long standing; it can hardly be said that the writings of the Old Testament contain explicit statements on
which such persuasion might be grounded; and the probability, therefore, is, that it was during the period which
elapsed between Malachi and Christ that it gained its hold
on the Jewish people.
And it is to occurrences during this period that the
best commentators agree in referring the latter part of
the Apostle's statement. There is no history in the Old
Testament which will bear it out; you cannot, that is, fix
on any narrative, which sets before you individuals, submitting to be tortured for the sake of religion, and sustained
by their belief in a better Resurrection. But what the
Canonical books do not supply may be found in the Apocryphal; and if you look at the marginal references to
the passage in question, you will find yourselves directed
to the seventh chapter of the Second Book of the Macca



V.]                THE APOCRYPHA.                 IQtO
bees. There, indeed, is a beautiful and thrilling history,
which illustrates to the very letter the words of the
Apostle, setting before us those who " were tortured, not
accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better
Resurrection." Possibly the history will be quite new to
many of you; it cannot fail to be deeply interesting to
all; listen, then, whilst we endeavour to show you how
the writings of one whom we do not believe to have been
inspired, may illustrate the words of an Apostle, a writer
who is assuredly to be reckoned amongst those who may
be described by such a saying as this, " Holy men of God
spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost."
Now the Second Book of Maccabees is chiefly occupied with accounts of the fearful persecutions of the Jews
by Antiochus, who lived about one hundred and fifty years
before Christ. And the seventh chapter presents us with
an extraordinary narrative, bearing out most precisely the
statement which we seek to elucidate. The story is that
of a mother and her seven sons, who, in one day, suffered
death by exquisite torments, rather than act contrary to
the law of their God. Of course, it would not suffice for
the illustration of the passage, that we could thus point to
a whole family submitting to a cruel death for the sake of
religion. We must be able to show, that, in undergoing
tortures, and refusing deliverance, they were animated by
the hope of a better Resurrection-otherwise we clearly
fail to produce an exact case in point. But you will
find the mother and her seven sons expressing, most
distinctly, their hope of a Resurrection, and thus fulfilling,
with the greatest accuracy, the description given by St.
Paul. Let us go to the place of execution-for never




102                THE APOCRYPHA.                [LECT.
were martyrs more worthy of being observed; never was
finer heroism displayed; and never were the last words of
witnesses for God and for truth more deserving of being
listened to with eager attention.
The parties brought before the tyrant are, as we have
said, a mother and her seven sons; and the thing which
they are required to do, is to taste swine's flesh, and thus
to break the ceremonial law. They might have argued,
with some show of probability, that, since it was but the
ceremonial law, and not the moral, which they were
required to infringe, it might be lawful for them to
purchase life by compliance. But these were not persons
who could be satisfied with an evasion or subterfuge.
They knew, that, under the dispensation beneath which
they lived, every tittle of the ceremonial law was indissolubly binding; and that they should be as verily guilty, if
they wilfully infringed it in a solitary particular, as if they
neglected the weightiest duties which the moral law enjoined. And therefore, though " tormented with scourges
and whips," yet did they strenuously refuse to obey the
cruel tyrant-one of them exclaiming, in the name of the
rest, "What wouldst thou ask of us? we are ready to die,
rather than to transgress the laws of our fathers." Upon
this, the enraged king gave orders that he, who had spoken
for the others, should be put to death in the most barbarous way; but his mother, and six brethren, though
compelled to be spectators of his excruciating sufferings,
looked on with unshaken constancy, and did but exhort
one another to die manfully.
And then was the second son given over to the rack:
but, when at the last gasp, he gathered up his shattered




V.]                THE APOCRYPHA.                 103
limbs, and thus addressed the tyrant, " Thou, like a fury,
takest us out of this present life; but the King of the
world shall raise us up, who have died for his laws, unto
everlasting life."  See ye not here that it was the hope of
a better Resurrection which kept the martyr steadfast?
The third son next refused, as his dead brothers had done,
to obey the tyrant's command, and, stretching forth his
hands that they might be cut off by the executioner, boldly
exclaimed, "These I had from Heaven, and for his laws I
despise them; and from him I hope to receive them again."
He too, you observe, had his thoughts on a Resurrection.
His limbs might be mangled; but he was persuaded that
this corruptible would put on incorruption, this mortal
immortality.
And now is not Antiochus satiated with blood? will
not the heroism, displayed by the three, prevail on him to
dismiss the others? Alas! no. The fourth son advances:
he braves the same torments, and is supported by the
same hope. Hear how he speaks, when just ready to die,
"It is good, being put to death by men, to look for hope
from God, to be raised up again by him: as for thee, thou
shalt have no resurrection to life." Still, you see, it was a
Resurrection to which the martyr looked. And the fifth
died in like manner, and then the sixth-each displaying
invincible fortitude, and each expressing an unshaken
reliance upon God. What did the mother all this while?
The ground is strewed with the mangled bodies of her
sons-is she not, woman as she is, convulsed with grief?
does not her courage give way, as child falls after child?
is she not ready to entreat the survivors to yield? or will
she not at least unman them by her tears and her anguish?




104                THE APOCRYPHA.               [LECT,
Wonderful mother! Well may the writer say of her, that
she was marvellous above all, and worthy of honourable
memory. In place of counselling her sons to apostacy, in
place of even distressing them with her grief, "she exhorted every one of them  in her own language," and
animated to martyrdom. Noble, very noble, are the words
which she is represented as using, and they are words
which speak of the better Resurrection. "I cannot tell
how you came into my womb; for I neither gave you
breath nor life; neither was it I that formed the members
of every one of you. But doubtless the Creator of the
world, who formed the generation of man, and found out
the beginning of all things, will also, of his own mercy,
give you breath and life again, as you now regard not your
ownselves for his law's sake."
There remained now but one son, the youngest; and
even Antiochus, bloodthirsty as he was, seemed reluctant to
order his execution. Seeing terrors had no power, he tried
what bribes would do, promising the lad that he would
make him a rich and happy man, if he would but turn from
the law of his fathers. But the young man indignantly
refused; and then the king, still wishing to overcome his
constancy, called the mother, and exhorted her to counsel
her son to save his life. It was a hard trial. He was the
sole survivor of a flourishing family, the youngest moreover, perhaps also the dearest. I see the mother, after
repeated  expostulations from  Antiochus, consenting to
counsel her son: she approaches him, bows herself towards
him, and addresses him in the speech of her country. Is
she subdued at last? has her courage given way? are
thev words of cowardice which she whispers in his ear?




V.]                THE APOCRYPHA.               105
You would almost think so from the manner in which she
begins, "O my son, have pity upon me that bare thee."
But what pity does she ask? We may well again exclaim,
"Wonderful mother!" She asked her son to have pity
upon her, by making her childless, by scorning the tyrant,
and braving death. "I beseech thee, my son, look upon
the heaven and the earth, and all that is therein, and consider that God made them of things that were not; and so
was mankind made likewise. Fear not this tormentor:
but, being worthy of thy brethren, take thy death, that I
may receive thee again in mercy with thy brethren."  Her
heroism, and her hope, communicate themselves to her son.
He longs to lie with his slaughtered brothers: he upbraids
the tyrant, predicts his doom, and then expires undaunted,
in the midst of yet fiercer tortures than had racked the
rest.
We are not told in what way the mother died. We
read only the fact-" last of all, after the sons, the mother
died." But we cannot doubt, that, having counselled
courage to her children, she was not faint-hearted herself.
Indeed the hardest part of her trial was already over: she
had seen her sons die; what was it now to die herself?
What attractions had life to offer her? There they lay, a
ghastly pile, the brave and the beautiful, over whom she
had watched from infancy, who had hung upon her breast,
who had been nursed on her knee, and who, as they grew
towards manhood, had gladdened her heart by their filial
kindness, and, yet more, by their devotedness to God.
She would not survive them: she would not be left behind.
Their spirits seemed to beckon her; and, with a soul full
of the expectation of a resurrection unto life, she must




106               THE APOCRYPHA.               [LECT.
have scorned the deliverance proffered her by the tyrant,
and welcomed the torments which were to free her from
the flesh. Thus was the bloody tragedy completed: the
mother and her seven sons fell together, choosing the most
excruciating death in preference to disobeying God, and
having such faith in a Resurrection unto life, that they
despised the fire, and the rack, and the axe. Who does
not look with veneration on the martyred group? Whose
heart burns not, as the matron dashes away the tears which
the agonies of her sons must have forced to her eyes, and
points, with majestic air, those already dying to a bright
world above, and urges those, whose trial is yet to come,
to defy the malice and the cruelty of the persecutor?
Who feels not the greatness of the faith that was displayed? and who then can marvel that an Apostle, eager
to exhibit the noblest triumphs of the principle of faith,
should not have confined himself to the Patriarchs and
warriors, whose stories are told by inspired writers, but,
going down into more private life, should have selected the
family which was massacred in one day by an infamous
tyrant, and have added its members to his illustrious catalogue, though he found the record in a book whose author
is not reckoned amongst those described by our text,
"Holy men of God spake as they were moved by the
Holy Ghost?"
Now we have thus wished to show you that bie Apocryphal Books, which are being read at this time in the
public services of the Church, though not inspired, may
be referred to with advantage, and made serviceable to
the Christian.  You are especially to observe that our
Church does not use them to establish any doctrine. The




V.]                THE APOCRYPHA.                 107
Roman Catholic' does; and so loose, if not erroneous, are
many of the statements of these books, that they can be
employed to the giving sanction to some of the worst
errors of Popery. But this is not to prevent our giving
to the Apocryphal books their due measure of respect, extracting from them historical information, and venerating
the noble maxims with which they abound. Surely the
history which we have given you of the mother and her
sons is one which is well adapted to nerve to constancy in
a righteous profession. We cannot do better, in concluding our discourse, than exhort to imitation of the faith so
signally displayed. Yes; such is faith, such its power, and
such its reward. And though we do indeed feel that the
crown of martyrs, the crown won at the stake, or on the
scaffold, may be a crown of extraordinary lustre, we will
not suppose that, because our days are days of peace, and
not of persecution, we may not ourselves attain distinguished glories at the resurrection of the just. There is. a
martyrdom, less conspicuous, indeed, but hardly less real,
than that undergone by the mother and her sons, and in
which we, as Christians, are all summoned to have share,
It is a martyrdom in which we are not only to be the
sufferers, but also the executioners. I call it martyrdom,
that, if the right hand offend us, we must cut it off; if the
right eye, we must pluck it out; that the flesh must be
crucifie4 with its affections and lusts, and the body be presented, a living sacrifice, unto God.  And I know not
whether there may not often be required a more active
and energetic faith for this slow and protracted immolation
of ourselves, than for the going boldly to the place of execution, and there enduring cheerfully all that malice can




108                THE APOCRYPHA.
devise. The dying daily, the perpetual self-mortification,
the patient submission to injuries, the incessant effort to
promote God's glory,-these may be, at least, as arduous,
and ask as much moral strength, as the facing an oppressor, and the surrendering even life, rather than abjure
our religion.
I know not, then, why we, too, may not share the better resurrection. At all events, by making greater sacrifices for God, by attempting a more rigid self-denial, by
striving after higher and higher degrees of Christian virtue, we may undoubtedly outstrip others who are running
the same race, and thus obtain a nobler portion from the
Judge of quick and dead. Christian men, and Christian
women, parents and children, ye are not called to stand
before Antiochus, and to choose between denying your
God, and surrendering your lives. But, "holy men of
God, who spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost,"
have told you that ye are called to witness in the face of a
scornful world, and to choose between losing your souls,
and mortifying evil passions. We conjure you to accept
not deliverance. Be ye bold, as were the mother and her
sons, of whom ye have now heard; and resolve, in the
strength of the Lord, that nothing but death shall set you
free from warfare and suffering. Binding yourselves to
the altar, and offering up yourselves by daily and hourly
sacrifices, in obedience to God, ye may gain honours, like
those which martyrs are to wear, and rise, at last, in that
better Resurrection, which shall include those who are to
shine as stars in the firmament.




LECTURE VI.
X gE1 a 3 Iihing-pgllh.
ISA. xxxii 2.
" And a man shall be as a hiding-place from the wind, and a covert firom the tempest; as
rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land."
THERE is little or no debate amongst commentators, as to
the personage described in these words.  It is probable,
indeed, that the prophecy, in which they occur, had a
primary reference to Hezekiah, who, as successor to
the iniquitous Ahaz, restored the worship of God, and
re-established the kingdom of Judah. The very signal
deliverance, vouchsafed by God to his people, in the reign
of this monarch, when the swarming hosts of the Assyrian
fell in one night before the destroying angel, may justly
be considered as having been alluded to by the Prophet,
in strains which breathe high of triumph and redemption.
And when a king is spoken of as reigning in righteousness,
and there is associated with his dominion all the imagery
of prosperity and peace, we may undoubtedly find, in the
holy and beneficent rule of Hezekiah, much that answers
to the glowing predictions. But the destruction of the
army of Sennacherib may itself be regarded as a figurative




110             A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.           [LECT.
occurrence; and Hezekiah, like his forefather David, is
but the type of the Lord our Redeemer. There are to be
great and fearful judgments, ere Christ shall finally set up
his kingdom on the earth; and the Assyrians, miraculously
slaughtered, ere Jerusalem could be at rest under its pious
monarch, may but vividly foreshow how the wicked shall
consumed by the brightness of Christ's coming, and thus
way be made for the universal reign of righteousness and
truth. If, in our text, Hezekiah is to be understood by
the "man," of whom such great and. glorious things are
affirmed, you will unavoidably feel as if the employed
language were too bold and comprehensive: you will have
to explain it in a reduced and qualified sense, interpreting
it as full of Eastern metaphor, which must not be too
rigidly understood. But apply the words to our blessed
Saviour, and there will be found nothing of strain or
exaggeration: in their largest sense, they come short of
the greatness and preciousness of his offices; and the effort
of the interpreter must be, rather, to prove them in any
measure adequate to what they describe, than to bring up
what they describe to their compass and extent.
When, indeed, the prediction has thus been interpreted
of that righteous King, in the describing of whom language, the most magnificent, is necessarily weak, you may
apply it, in a very qualified sense, to Hezekiah; but we
ought not to think that Hezekiah is primarily intended;
for this is to accuse the prophecy of exaggeration; and
exaggeration is too nearly akin to falsehood to be ever found
in the word of the Lord. We shall not, then, think it
needful, in our present discourse, to give heed to any interpretation of the text, but that which refers it altogether




vI.1            A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.             111
to Christ. We shall consider it as containing descriptions,
metaphorical undoubtedly, but not the less comforting and
instructive, of what the Redeemer is to the Church; and
dismissing all regard to kings or kingdoms, which may
have prefigured the sovereignty of Jesus, shall examine
only how this man is " as a hiding-place from the wind, and
a covert from the tempest; as rivers of water in a dry
place, as the shadow of a great rock in a weary land."
Now the first thing, which may justly strike you as
remarkable in this description of Christ, is the emphasis
which seems laid on the word "man."  "A man" shall be
this or that; and Bishop Lowth renders it, "the man," as
if He were man in distinction from any other, which is,
indeed, St. Paul's statement, when he thus writes to the
Corinthians: "The first man is of the earth, earthy; the
second man is the Lord from heaven."  As though there
had never been but two men-the first Adam  and the
second-every other, as having been born in sin, and the
heir of death, appearing to the Apostle undeserving the
name. The verse, preceding our text, runs thus: " Behold
a king shall reign in righteousness, and princes shall rule
in judgment."  But this mention of a king, and of princes,
only makes more memorable the mention of " a man:"
there is the more evident design of fixing attention on the
fact of its being a man, who was to bear certain offices, or
perform  certain deeds; as if we were likely to overlook
this fact, or, at all events, to lay on it less stress than it
was intended to bear. You readily perceive, that, if the
prediction had been, "And this king shall be as a hidingplace from  the wind," it would not only have seemed to
follow more naturally on the foregoing verse, but, by




112             A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.          [LECT.
keeping up the mention of royalty, would have suggested
an agency adequate perhaps to the great things predicted.
Whereas, by suddenly changing the title, by dropping the
king, and speaking merely of the man, the Prophet must
be considered as directing us especially to the truth, that
the king should be a man; yea, and that it should be
in consequence of his manhood, that He would prove
Himself a hiding-place and a covert.
There is thus, in the prediction before us, when applied
to Christ, the strongest possible assertion of the human
nature of Christ, and of its being that nature which renders Him a Saviour suited to our wants. There is no
exclusion of the great doctrine of the divinity of Christ;
rather, by changing the title of a king for that of a man,
the Prophet may be considered as expressing a fear, that
we might dwell on Christ as divine, till we came comparatively to forget Him as human: what need to remind us
so emphatically of the king being man, if He were nothing
more than man, if He were not also God, and therefore
likely, in this his higher nature, to draw off unduly attention from Him in his lower? But whilst it is thoroughly
consistent with the truth of Christ's divinity, that his
humanity should be so explicitly mentioned-nay, whilst
so explicit a mention may even be taken as an argument
for our Lord's having been the Sonil of God, as well as the
Son of man-there can be no debate that it is the
humanity of Christ, to which our text gives the prominence, that it is this humanity to which seems ascribed the
suitableness of Christ for the offices prophetically assigned.
Before, therefore, we examine these offices in detail, we
ought to pause on the fact of our Lord's being man, and




vr.l            A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.            113
consider its indispensableness to the whole scheme of our
redemption.
And this indispensableness is quickly perceived, forasmuch as what our blessed Saviour undertook was the
reconciliation of our offending nature to God; and this,
it is perhaps hardly too much to say, could not have been
effected in any nature but itself. In the nature which
had sinned, must suffering be endured and obedience perfected; otherwise, so far as we can see, there could have
been no satisfaction made to the violated law: that law,
having been imposed upon man, and broken by man, must
have had demands against man which no angel, no being
acting in any other nature but that of man, would seem
to have been capable of answering. We do not, of course,
mean that any mere man could have made satisfaction to
justice on our behalf: it was the divine nature in the
person of Christ, which gave infinite worth to the endurances of the human, and made the single sacrifice immeasurably more than a ransom for the world: but we do not
see (though let us speak with all humility on such mysterious things) how the junction of the divine nature with,
for example, the angelic, in the person of the Redeemer,
would have qualified Him to act as our surety: what was
done and suffered in the angelic nature might have procured the reconciliation of fallen angels to God, but could
have had no discoverable connection with that of fallen
man. It is then the fact, that the eternal " Word was made
flesh," that He who was "the brightness of the Father's
glory, and the express image of his person," consented to
be born, in the fulness of time, of a pure virgin, and thus
to be "found in fashion as a man," on which we ground
8




114             A MIAN A HIDING-PLACE.            [LECT.
our confidence that the curse is removed, that we are no
longer necessarily nnder condemnation, but that God is
willing to welcome us, as the father welcomed back his
prodigal son. Forasmuch as He was man, I can feel of
the Mediator, that He suffered and obeyed in my stead:
I have found a being who, in regard of God and of myself,
is Vwhat Job, in the infancy of Revelation, seems vainly to
have sought for, pathetically exclaiming, " Neither is there
any daysman betwixt us, who might lay his hand upon us
both."
And, of course, if it be indispensable to the general
scheme of Redemption that the Mediator should be man,
you cannot take, as our text does, detached parts, or
separate views of the work, without bringing in Christ's
manhood as essential to each. He must have been man,
in order to his making the atonement: and He must have
been man, in order to his entering into all our wants, understanding our circumstances, and having a fellow feeling
with us in our infirmities.  And we need hardly point out
to you, that, in giving such prominence to the fact of
Christ's manhood, our text not only insists on that without
which the Gospel could not meet our necessities, but
exhibits the feature which, of all others, is adapted to
comfort and encourage us. The weak and the sinful, like
ourselves, shrink, and must shrink, from alsolute Deity.
So soon at least as we become convinced of our wickedness
and danger, there is so thorough a feeling of the vast
distance at which we stand from God, and the barrier
interposed by his righteous and immutable attributes, and
of the necessity that He be always " a consuming fire" to
the rebellious and unholy, that, to tell us of our Creator,




VI.]            A MIAN A HIDING-PLACE.             115
and not to tell us of our Mediator, is but to cover us with
confusion, or to drive us to despair.  It is the man who is
still spiritually blind, who can think without apprehension
of God, or regard Him as a Being to be approached and
entreated.  Wlhere the spiritual eyesight has been in anlly
measure purged, God will be viewed as terrible in his
majesty, a Being whose holiness renders Him  so awfully
inaccessible to the sinftl, that it were even better to
attempt the fleeing from his presence, than to dare the
endeavouring to address Him with petition. And if there
had been made to us a Revelation, that God was willing
to receive and pardon the penitent,, no specification being
given as to the nature of the arrangement, but the simple
fact being stated that the Almighty could and would
forgive, indeed it may be doubted whether they, who
most longed f6r reconciliation, would have ventured on
the seeking it; whether the tremendousness of having to
address themselves to a Being, whose very nature armed
Him  for their utter destruction, would not have overpowered the encouragement derived firom  the gracious
but indefinite commnunication.
How different is it now, lwhen there is a daysman, a
Mediator, betwixt us and God. There is no diminished
representation of the divine holiness or justice.  God is
not made to appear less fearful in his attributes.  But it is
a man to whom me have to flee, a man to whom we may
address ourselves, a man, nwith all a man's sympathy, and
all a man's experience —ohl, -how can the sinner fear to
come to the Saviour, when that Saviour can be' touched
with the feeling of our infirmities," having been "tempted
in all points, like as we are, yet without sin?"  I do not




116             A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.            [LECT,
know whether you may all appreciate the difference; but
I am sure that a trembling penitent, casting about for a
possibility of deliverance, will feel that it incalculably
alters the case, if, after saying to him, go to God as to a
father, I add, go to Him through " the man Jesus Christ"
as a Mediator. Does it give him some measure of hope,
that I can say to him, God is not inexorable, He can
receive you, if you approach Him  with due submission
and humility? It may: but much of fear will mingle
with his hope; and the nearer he approaches, the more
will lie be terrified at the brightness of the Lord. But
when I come to him with another message; when I tell
him  of the human nature, as well as of the divine, of
the Saviour, then will he be encouraged to hope and ask
at once for forgiveness: there may be a sound as of that
which should forbid despair, in words such as these, "The
Almighty Lord is a most strong tower to all them that
put their trust in Him:" but, oh, the music that goes to
the heart, and makes it thrill with delight, is in language
like this, "A man," "the man," "shall be as a hiding-place
from the wind, and a covert from the tempest."
But let us now proceed to consider with what justice
or propriety the several assertions, here made, may be
applied to our Saviour, to the "man, Chlrist Jesus," on
whom we are taught to rest every hope of acceptance.
There are four assertions in the text: four similes are
used to represent to us the offices of the Redeemer, or the
benefits derived to us through his gracious Mediation.
These assertions or similes are not indeed all different; on
the contrary, there is great similarity, or even something
like repetition. Thus, "a hiding-place from  the wind,"




VI.]            A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.              11/
does not materially differ from " a covert from the tempest:"
the idea is the same; and there is only that variety in the
mode of expression which accords with poetic composition.
Neither is " the shadow of a great rock in a weary land,"
altogether a different image: the idea is still that of shelter,
shelter from the heat, if not from the tempest. Though
it might perhaps be more correct to say that there are two
great ideas embodied in the text, and that there are two
figures for the illustration of each. The first idea is that
of a refuge in circumstances of danger; and this is illustrated by " a hiding-place from the wind," and " a covert
from the tempest." The second idea is that of refreshment
under circumstances of fatigue; and this is illustrated by
" rivers of water in a dry place," and " the shadow of a
great rock in a weary land."  We will adhere as much as
possible to this division of the text, in what we have yet
to advance; though there is one thing, common to three
of the illustrations, which should be separately and carefully considered.
The hiding-place, the covert, and the rock, give shelter
and relief, through receiving on themselves that against
which they defend us. The tempest beats upon the tower,
or the tree, to which the traveller runs from the fury of
the elements: the fierce rays of the sun fall upon the
rock, beneath which he thankfully pauses, when almost
fainting from the heat. It is true indeed that the hidingplace and the rock, in affording protection, cannot be said
to suffer inconvenience: they are evidently not sensible to
the evil which they serve to intercept, and thus keep away
from the traveller. But something similar might be urged
of all imagery, which, derived from what is material and




118             A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.            [LECT
inanimate, is brought to the illustration of the offices of
the Redeemer.  And our business is to refine, as it were,
and spiritualize the imagery, that so, if possible, we may
disencumber it of whatis dead and insensible, and make it
burn and breathe with life and sensation.  Thus, if the
hiding-place and the rock do not feel the storm  and the
heat from which they serve to give shelter, yet, when
they are given as images of Christ, we ought, as it were,
to endow them with sensibility; so that, over and above
the idea of evils intercepted, which they naturally furnish,
we may derive that of evils endured, which is equally
needful to the completeness of the fioure. Aind when once
you draw this latter idea from the similes employed in our
text, when you consider that the hiding-place, the covert,
and the rock, can yield shelter and protection, only through
receiving on themselves what they divert or turn away
firom us; indeed it were a dull imagination-to speak
more truly, it were a cold heart-wlhich does not instantly
recognise the appropriateness of the figure, as taken in
illustration of the Lord our Redeemer. For who does not
know, who, knowing it, does not confess with gratitude
and awe, that Christ Jesus placed Hiinself, as it were,
between the sinner and that eternal wrath which his sins
had provoked, and, by allowing the wrath to break on
Himself, kept it froim rushing' forwards to overwhelm the
world? I How was it that Christ " redeemed us from the
curse of the law," except through being " made a curse for
us?"  How  caine the sword to be sheathed, which our
iniquities had caused to be draw-rn, except tlhrough the
execution of the command, "Awake, 0 sword, against my
shepherd, and against the man that is my fellow, saith the




VI.]            A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.             119
Lord of Hosts?"  How was it brought to pass, that the
sinful may escape the everlasting penalties of sin, except
through God's having " bruised and put to grief" his only
and well-beloved Son, except through the Son's having
" borne our sins in his own body on the tree?" The power
and the preciousness of the scheme of our Redemption lie
mainly in this, that there was actual substitution, that
Christ Jesus stood in our place, so that there descended
upon Him what, but for so mnighty an intervention, must
for ever have been descending on ourselves. That Christ
endured and obeyed in our stead, as our surety and representative; that He did not merely avert from us God's
wrath, but averted by exhausting it, receiving it all in his
own divine person-this it is which enables the believer
to look with confidence to God as having reconciled him to
Himself; for this it is, which, as proving that every demand
on the sinner has been discharged to the last fraction,
proves also that "there is now no condemnation to them
that are in Jesus Christ."
But how ought it to melt the heart, how to excite in us
emotions of ardent gratitude and love, to remember at
what a cost, and through what an endurance, the Lord
our Recdeemer procured our deliverance! It is marvellous,
as it is melancholy, that the simple statements, Christ died
for us, Christ gave Himself for us, should fall, as they
commonly do, on listless ears, and languid affections. One
would think, to see with what coldness and indifference
such statements can be heard, that Christ had redeemed
us at no personal sacrifice, that He had paid our ransom in
treasures which He could produce by a word, and multiply
without effort. Whereas he redeemed us by sorrows such




120             A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.           [LECT
as no other human being ever felt; by an agony of which
it is fearful to read; by unknown pains, by inscrutable
torments of the body, by mysterious darkness and desolation of soul. Remember this, when you hear, or read, or
think, of Christ Jesus as a refuge. If Ile be that city,
figured by cities of old, to which the man-slayer might flee,
when pursued by the avenger of blood, remember that He
did not build. the city of wood or of stone; He built it, as
it were, of his own broken body, and cemented it with his
own precious blood. And when you admire such passages
as our text, which, with great variety of similitude set
forth the Saviour as the Being to whom we must turn, if
we would escape the bitter pains of everlasting death, oh,
fail not to give due force to the figures, by failing to observe
how they suppose Christ to have incurred what He enables
us to avoid; it may soften what is yet hard in the heart,
it may warm what is yet cold, to call to mind that "a
man," "the man," had to receive on Himself all the terribleness of the hurricane, all the fierceness of the fire, ere
that man could be "as a hiding-place from the wind, a
covert from the tempest, and. as the shadow of a great:rock in a weary land."
But having thus shown you how the emblems, adopted
in our text, exhibit Christ as enduring, in his own person,
the evils from which he shields and shelters his people, we
have yet to expand the two ideas of protection in danger,
and refreshment in fatigue, which, as we have already explained, these ernmblems embody.  "A  hiding-place from
the wind, and a covert from the tempest," if our blessed
Saviour be these, then are we to consider ourselves as
travellers through some wide desert, where, overtaken by




VI.]            A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.               121
a hurricane, we are in danger of being buried in the sand
which rises on all sides with tumultuous swell; or as mariners on a tempestuous sea, whose bark must soon founder,
if no haven be at hand. For scriptural figures, if, under
one point of view, they represent to us Christ, under another must represent to us ourselves; and it is simply because there is so little feeling of our' own actual condition,
that there is so little appreciation of the characters under
which the Saviour is described.  It is almost useless to
speak of " a refuge" to a man, who has no consciousness of
being in any danger; a refuge must imply that there is
something to flee from as well as a place to flee to; and he
who does not feel that there is peril to be escaped, what
ear can he have for tidings of a covert, beneath which he
may be safe? The words, " I am the good Shepherd,"
have little beauty or interest for the man who does not
yet feel himself a wandering sheep, torn with the briers
and thorns of the wilderness. But, oh, how exquisitely
will they sound, when once he comes to himself, when he
feels that he has gone astray, and would fain, if he could,
return to the fold.
It is, and it must be, the same with all the imagery of
Redemption. Christ is represented by certain figures; but
those figures suppose us in a particular state, and conscious
of that state; otherwise it is impossible that there should
be appropriateness in the figures; at least, that this appropriateness should commend itself to our feelings. Thus
with the emblems, or similes, of our text —are there any
of you to whom they do not seem to possess much of suitableness or force? it must be because you are not yet
alive to your danger, practically not aware of the position




122             A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.            [LECI
which you occupy as transgressors of God's law. What is
this position? My brethren, as the descendants of Adam,
through whose disobedience death passed upon all, we
were born into the world, children of wrath, and under
the condemnation of God. And though, as baptized into
the Christian Church, we were delivered fiom the guilt of
original sin, and endowed with grace which might have
kept us in that holy fellowship into which we had been
brought, it is probably but too true of all of us, that we
grew up in the practice of many known sins, that, in place
of holding fast our privileges, we virtually gave ourselves
to the service of Satan, or sold ourselves again under the
yoke from which we had been graciously delivered. And
therefore, notwithstanding   the work of Redemption, notwithstanding the regeneration of baptism, is every unconverted man, every man who is not labouring to live as a
Christian, exposed to the wrath of a righteous God, certain, if he die without repentance, to have to bear that
wrath through Eternity. The thing wanted, is, that any
man amongst you, who may be living unconcernedly in sin,
should be made to feel this. I speak parables to that
man, in speaking of a Saviour, till he be made to feel this.
But let him once be roused to a perception of the facts of
the case, and he is in utter alarm at the perils by which he
sees himself surrounded. VWhen conscience, acted on by
the Spirit of God, whose instrument it is, wakes up from
slumber, and forces on a man his many and multifold
offences, there will be no peace for that man, till he hear
of an advocate, a surety, a propitiation. For, along with
the conviction of sin, there will be a sense of such holiness
and justice in the invisible God, as must quite preclude




VI.]            A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.             123
hope of sin being overlooked, or allowed to pass without
heavy punishment. And the awakened sinner, whatever
the thoughts which he may for a moment indulge, will
quickly discover that there can be no virtue in his repentance to the procuring forgiveness; inasmuch as a broken
law derives no satisfaction, whether from sorrow for the
past, or firom obedience for the future. So that there will
soon be presented to him no imagery but that of danger
and death; he will see that he has arrayed against himself
the attributes of God; and that he is therefore in the
position of one, over whom the clouds are gathering, and
round whom the winds are rising, whilst he is far away
friom any shelter, and umay expect nothing but the being
swept down by the fury of the hurricane.
AMust, then, those clouds break on his devoted head?
must those winds come against him in their unrestrained
force? oh, now is the time for displaying the Saviour:
now is the time for the exhortation, "Behold the Lamb
of God which taketh away the sin of the world!"  The
clouds need not empty their indignation on thee, O terrifled sinner. The winds need not wreck their fierceness
upon thee. The wrath of God, which thine iniquities
have provoked, has already been poured upon one who
acted as thy surety, thy substitute. In and through the
Lord Jesus Christ, who " died the just for the unjust,"
God can receive thee as a Father, extend to thee forgiveness, avert firom thee all anger, reconcile thee with love.
Flee, then, to this Saviour: hasten to Him for shelter: and
oh, as you seek in Christ what shall certainly be found ih
Iim, but found in none else, you will need no one to
explain to you, though you may have heretofore but little




124             A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.            [LEC,
appreciated the beauty, the power, the gloriousness of
the saying, " A lman," " the man," " shall be as a hidingplace from the wind, and a covert from the tempest."
But we come now, in the last place, to the second main
idea embodied in the imagery of our text-that of refreshment under circumstances of fatigue. The character of
Chrlist, which we have just been considering, is that under
which He specially displays Himself at the time of a man's
conversion: not, indeed, that then only is He a refugefor what is genuine religion but a ceaseless flying from
ourselves to Christ?-but that then there is peculiar
appropriateness in his discovering Himself as a hidingplace; forasmuch as then there is peculiar consciousness of
exposure to utter destruction.  And if the first great idea
in our text commend itself specially to men at the moment
of awakening from  spiritual torpor, the second may be
taken as specially applicable whilst they afterwards pursue
a Heavenward course. Not that, here again, the idea, or
the imagery, is out of place, if introduced at the moment
of conversion: for at such a moment the man needs refreshment as well as protection: but, on the whole, a
traveller, fainting in the desert, is an apter figure of the
believer, as he toils on in the way of God's commandments,
than of the sinner, when first! made aware of his error and
danger. Who of you, if it be indeed his endeavour to follow them who "through faith and patience inherit the
promises," is not often conscious of the fatigues of the way,
so that, like a man oppressed with heat, and overcome of
thirst, he is almost tempted to lie down at once, and give
up his journey in despair?
There are so many difficulties to encounter-for woe is




VI.]            A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.             125
unto them who think it an easy thing to save the soul —
so many trials, so many temptations; the path is often so
rough, and the noontide sun so fierce; that no wonder if
creatures, compassed with infirmity, feel at times as if it
were well nigh impossible to make further progress. Oh
for fountains in this parched desert! oh for shelter from
these scorching rays! And must such wishes be breathed
in vain?  What then is Christ? Did not the angel of the
Lord open the eyes of Hagar in the wilderness, and she
saw a well of water?  and is any thing more needed than
the opening of your eyes, and the fixing them  on the
Saviour, in order to your finding in Him all that you want
in your faintness and exhaustion?  "A man;" " The man"
"shall be as rivers of water in a dry place, as the shadow
of a great rock in a weary land."  The beauty of this
imagery would be more felt in an Eastern country, where
vast deserts of sand have often to be traversed, and that
too beneath the rays of a sun which it is almost death to
encounter in its noontide strength.  But we all know
enough of the condition, in which the imagery supposes the
traveller, to be able to appreciate the promise of refreshment. And is not the promise one which is made good
in Christ? Through Christ, as the fruit of his passion, the
result of his intercession, we obtain those supports and
consolations of the Holy Ghost, which leave no wound
without its balm, no sorrow without its solace. These
communications of the Spirit, flowing through Christ,
are verily as "rivers of water in a dry place;" he who
opens to them  his heart obtains " a peace which passeth
all understanding," a peace which not only subsists in the
midst, and even in spite of opposition, enmity, disaster)




126              A MAN A HIDING-PLACE.              [LECT
but which seems actually to be multiplied by troubles,
troubles appear to arise that Christian peace may spling
from  them; if " a dry place" occur, it is that waters may
gush forth, not in streamlets, but in rivers.
Such is the fulness which there is in Christ; oh that
none of you would think of slaking the soul's thirst at any
other source! " the water," saith the Redeemer, "that I
shall give him, shall be in him a well of water, springing
up into everllasting life."  And if fierce trials invade us,
if earthly  comforts wither, as withered  the prophet's
gourd, and, like Jonah, we seem left without shelter fiom
the intolerable heat, wn-hat have wne to do but turn to the
Redeemer, that great High Priest, who can be "touched
with the feeling of our infirmities?"   Shadow of a great
rock in a weary land," we have but to come within thy
circuit, and " the sun shall not smite us by day, neither
the moon by night."  He who always stands, if we may
use the expression, close by Christ, secures for himself that
"all thinos -work together for his good;" though, if he.
ever leave the Redeemer, if ever he be tempted to wander
from  his side, then it is with him, just as it is with the
man who quits his place beneath the rock; he meets the
heat in its intenseness; there is nothing to cool the air,
and he has only himself to blame if he sink under the
force, the unmitigated force, of the tempest.
But a rock is stationary, and we are pilgrims; we must
be on the advance throu.'h the desert; and how can we be
always standing beneath the rock?  Ah, my brethren, do
you not remember how St. Paul describes Christ, when
speaking of the wanderings of Israel in the wilderness?
"They drank of that spiritual rock that followed them,




VI.]            A MIAN A HIDING-PLACE.              127
and that rock was Christ."  The rock goes with us; it is
always as a wall to us; if we ever lose its shadow, it is
because we stray beyond appointed limits, into forbidden
ground; not because, in our necessary progress, we are
forced to leave behind what gave refreshment and shelter.
The believer cannot be where duty allows of his being,
and yet be where Christ is not ready to be found at his
side. The sun has only to be fierce, and the rock rises
where there had seemed only an interminable plain. The
privileges of a believer are not those of exemption from
trouble and freedom from danger; but they are those of
support under all affliction, and deliverance from all peril.
Would there were a greater sense alnonlst us of the preciousness of the Saviour! We do not prize Him, we do not
love Him, the thousandth part we ought. These, our cold
hearts, give Him cold returns for his marvellous benevolence.  0 for a more ardent devotedness! 0 for more of
spiritual thirst, for more of the feeling of faintness as
"strangers and pilgrims upon earth!"  We drink too
much at polluted fountains, forgetting that all our springs
are in Christ.  But the thirsty, the fainting-and such we
ought to be, such we are by profession —will.they not
daily value more, yet daily mourn that they value so little,
"a man," "the man," who makes Himself as " rivers of
water in a dry place, as the shadow of a great rock in a
weary land?"




LECTURE VII.
MATT. XiX. 29.
" And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother,
or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and
shall inherit everlasting life."
THESE are the words of our blessed Redeemer; and they
were called forth by an assertion and a question of St.
Peter, "Behold, we have forsaken all, and followed thee;
what shall we have therefore 2"  The Apostles had, for
the most part, been taken from  amongst the poor and
illiterate: in a worldly point of view, they had made no
very considerable sacrifice, in abandoning their boats and
nets, and devoting themselves to the service of one who
" had not where to lay his head."  But it is well worth
your observing that Christ, in no degree, depreciates the
amount of the sacrifice which had been made in his cause:
his answer merely bears on the remunerating power of
God, on the certainty that they who,. for the sake of
religion, gave up any thing which they loved, should find
themselves, perhaps in the present life, undoubtedly in the
next, immeasurably recompensed.  There was something




THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.          129
almost of a complaining tone in the interrogation of St.
Peter: he seems to magnify what had been surrendered,
as though he were almost in doubt whether a thorough
equivalent would ever be received. Christ immediately
speaks of "a hundredfold," as if to scatter, and put to
shame, the suspicion that a man could ever be eventually
a loser by what he lost for God.
We wish to fasten on this reply of our Lord, as furnishing guidance for us in our endeavours to act upon men,
and persuade them  to give heed to religion. It will not
do, constituted as men are, to enlarge to them abstractedly
on the beauty of holiness, and on the satisfaction derivable
from a conscience at rest. They are not to be persuaded
that virtue is in any such sense its own reward, that it
were better for them to be self-denying than self-indulgent,
even if there were nothing to be brought into account but
the amount of actual enjoyment.  They feel, that, in
asking them to be religious, we ask them to renounce some
good, and endure some evil; and they demand, with some
show of justice, that we rigidly prove to them that they
shall be gainers by doing as we urge. And hence the
theology which is likely to prevail with them-and certainly this is the character of the Scriptural theologyis one which insists much on "the recompense of the
reward;" and which, whilst it gives no quarter to the
pleasures of sin, and insists unreservedly on the not setting
the heart on perishable'treasures, plies them with representations of a heavenly kingdom, and dims the present
by unfolding the radiance of the future.
We are assured indeed that no terms of reprobation
can be too strong for the folly of the man who is deterred
9




130         THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.         [LEci
from religion by the sacrifices which it exacts. But our
assurance is not drawn from an opinion that the sacrifices
are in themselves inconsiderable; but simply from the
certainty, that, even in this life, these mortifications are
more than counterbalanced by the comforts of religion,
and that, in the next, they will be a thousandfold recompensed. The yoke of Christ is easy, and his burden is
light: but nevertheless there is a yoke, and there is a
burden. And when we read of taking up the cross, and
following Christ; of forsaking all that we may be his
disciples; of cutting off the right hand, and plucking out
the right eye, which may offend; it were not easy to deny,
that " if in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are
of all men most miserable." It must therefore be right
that, in dealing with men, we labour to convince them
how immeasurably it will be for their advantage, notwithstanding the confessed sacrifices which obedience must
entail, to hearken to the call which summons them to
forsake all for Christ. We shall endeavour, on the present
occasion, to set before you this fact under various, but all
practical, points of view. Our subject of discourse may
therefore be understood without further preface; we
should perhaps only hamper it, were we to propose any
methodical arrangement. We are simply about to illustrate the mode of dealing adopted by our Lord, when
Peter seemed disposed to make much of the sacrifices
which he had made for religion- not the mode of depreciating, or undervaluing those sacrifices; but that of mag.
nifying the remunerating power of God-" every one that
hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or
mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake,




VII.]       THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.         131
shall receive an hurdredfold, and shall inherit everlasting
life."
Now we begin with the case of the young, who, with
life just opening before them, and the attractions of the
world soliciting their pursuit, are urged to the duty of remembering their Creator, and setting their affections on
things that are above. We shall not deny that there is
something apparently harsh and repulsive in a message
which demands of those, in whom the passions are strong,
and the spirits elastic with the hope that the scenes, on
which they are entering, will yield unlimited pleasure, that
they renounce what they are just beginning to enjoy, and
forsake all with which they have just formed a friendship.
We cannot expect to gain at first a favourable hearing,
when we come down upon' persons, who have not known
the bitterness of disappointment, and to whom the objects
of sense, and the delights of earth, are wearing all that
beauty which is soon worn off by trial —and require of
them that they " crucify the flesh with its affections and
lusts," and "love not the world, neither the things that
are in the world."
Indeed they are free agents, and may, if they will,
decide for the world in preference to God. But we give
them fair warning: it is virtually between God and Satan
that you are asked to decide, between Heaven and Hell
that you are invited to choose. And if, by the energy of
remonstrance and warning, we prevail on the young to
hesitate, ere they continue the course we denounce, then
presently the thought of all which we ask them to surrender comes upon them with great power, and they feel as
though it vere unreasonable to urge them to such sacrifice.




132        THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.        [LECT.
If they hearken to our admonition, they must separate
themselves from associations in which they find great delight. They must probably exchange the smile and goodwill for the frown and opposition of those whom they love.
They must abstain from pleasures most congenial with
their tastes, and from practices which promise them ad,
vancement. They must not seek the wealth which is most
sparkling, nor drink of the stream which is most inviting,
nor pursue the honour which is most alluring. We put
it to the young amongst you, who may not be wholly
indifferent to the saving of the soul, who may have occasional misgivings as to the wisdom and safety of protracting that friendship with the world, which is declared in
Scripture to be " enmity with God," we put it to you to
decide whether it be not the pleasures of sin, and the
treasures of earth, which you are reluctant to lose. We
should have you quickly on our side, and you would enter
on a religious profession, if it were not that so much which
you love must be forsaken, so much, of which you are in
eager pursuit, be abandoned, as unworthy your regards.
And how are we to meet you when taking this position of
resistance? It will be of little use that we expatiate on
the unsatisfactoriness of your pleasures, and endeavour to
win you from the world by proving it delusive. You will
have no ear for this kind of argument. All your senses,
and passions, and appetites, and hopes, protest against our
reasoning: you will find delight in what we ask you to
resign, and we shall make, therefore, no way by plying you
with proof that it cannot yield happiness.
We do not, therefore, press upon the young, that what
we ask them to surrender is not worth being kept, or what to




VII.]      THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.         133
endure not worth the being reckoned. We may have our
own conviction on this matter; but we do not expect them
to adopt this conviction, if it have not yet been forced on
them by experience. We must try another method-Christ
did not tell Peter that the boat and the net were worth
but little at the most. We rather allow the extent of the
sacrifice, and frankly admit that it is asking much, to ask
the young to give up the allurements and pleasures of the
world. But then we have a high ground to take, when
we have abandoned that of the little value of what they
have to lose. We have to take the ground of a recompense being in store, which shall be immeasurably more
than an equivalent for all which they renounce, and all
which they endure. We say to them,'it is true, you must
renounce cherished gratifications, and we do not suppose
that you can go along with us in despising and decrying
those gratifications. You must cease to seek your wealth
in earthly treasure, and your honour in earthly fame; and
you are not yet prepared to regard that treasure as dross,
and that fame as a meteor. But in whose cause, and at
whose command, are you summoned to the sacrifice?  Is
it for the service of one who has nothing to bestow, that
we ask you to exchange the service of Satan?  Is it to
make friendship with a being who has nothing great, and
nothing good, at his disposal, that we urge you? And
are all the advantages which your nature can solicit and
appreciate, on the side of that alliance which we entreat
you to dissolve?
On the,contrary, we address you in the name of the
living God, whose is the earth, and the fulness thereof.
We invite you to be reconciled to the Creator, who can




134         THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.         [LECTr
supply all your wants out of his riches in Christ. We
offer you the favour of a being who can impart " a peace,
which passeth all understanding," a hope full of immortality, and a joy with which no stranger intermeddles.
We propose to you the placing yourselves under the
guardianship of Him, on whom wait the eyes of all in
every district of immensity, who hath spread out the
heavens, and garnished the earth, at whose right hand are
pleasures for evermore, whose is the treasure which the
moth cannot corrupt, and the thief cannot rifle, and whose
promise it is, a promise immutable as Himself, that they
who are faithful to the end shall be throned in blessedness,
and receive a crown that fadeth not arway. And are we
then to hear of the extent of the sacrifice, and to hear
nothing of the wealth and happiness secured by the
sacrifice? Are we to be told of the treasures of earth,
and to hear nothing of the thousand times ten thousand
talents of gold, which are the inheritance of those who will
break league with the world and its idols? Oh, let us
speak of something besides the boat and the net. It is to
your zeal for your own interests, to your love for your ownselves, to your wish for riches, to your appetite for honours,
to your longing for pleasures, that we make our appeal.
We address ourselves to the young, whilst yet in the
spring-time of their days, and we ask them to forego no
gratification, for which we do not offer a richer and more
satisfying.  We entreat them  to abandon no pursuit,
without opening before them a far nobler and more engrossing. We summon them to no act of self-denial, which is
not as nothing in comparison of its reward. If we ask the
surrender of the corruptible, we offer the incorruptible;




VII.]      THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.          135,
of the transient, we offer the enduring; of the visionary,
we offer the substantial. We bid them withdraw affections
from objects on which they have eagerly fastened; but it
is that we may direct them to objects unspeakably better
suited to engage them: we bid them cease to employ their
powers on designs in which they are intently occupied;
but it is that we may turn them upon others which are
alone commensurate with their energy.
And thus it is precisely as our Lord dealt with Peter,
that we would deal with the young, who may be halting
between two opinions, and have a difficulty in deciding
to surrender what they love. They may array before us,
as we urge them to religion, the pleasures they must
resign, the advantages they must forego, the connections
they must dissolve, and the hardships they must endure,
if they hearken to the admonition, and dare to be in earnest as to the saving of the soul. But we have only one
answer to return to their every statement; and that is an
answer drawn from the remunerating power of God. We
tell them, that, if, with Peter and the other Apostles, they
forsake all and follow the Saviour, and then propose the
question, "What shall we have?" there is a glorious reply,
a reply which should make them ashamed of a moment's
hesitation, " Every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive
a hundredfold, and shall inherit eternal life."
We go on to observe, and there cannot be many in this
assembly, whose experience does not bear out the observation, that it is the apparent conflict between duty and
interest, which causes us, in variety of cases, to disobey
God, and withstand the pleadings of conscience. We




136        THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.          [LECT
speak of apparent conflict, because we deny altogether
that interest and duty can ever be really opposed. It is
but vindicating the righteousness of God's moral government, to maintain, that, whatever He has made it our
interest, He has made it also our duty, to do. But whilst
there can be no real conflict between interest and duty, we
admit, of course, that there will be often an apparent.
Indeed, the world would cease to be a scene of probation,
there would no longer be any trial of obedience, were it
always manifestly for our advantage, to follow the course
which God's law prescribes. It is only by carrying on our
calculation, and bringing the future as well as the present
into the account, that we reach the conclusion, that what
is duty is, in the long run, also interest. There will often
be a great deal gained for the moment by disobedience, and
therefore a great deal to be surrendered, if we resolve to
obey. And though we can be confident, that it is merely
for the moment that any thing like advantage results, even
in appearance, from thwarting the dictates whether of
conscience or of Revelation, yet so long as interest and
duty may thus seem to lead different ways, there will
necessarily be often a struggle in the mind; and it will be
hard to do what is right, in the face of an apparent advantageousness in the doing what is wrong.
And what we want you again to consider, is the correct
way of dealing with men, between whose interest and
duty there may thus seem a conflict-whether it be not
the magnifying the renmunerating power of Him, in whose
cause the sacrifice is made, rather than that of depreciating
the sacrifice itself-the making much of future recompense,
not the making little of the boat and the net. If you try




THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.          137
the latter mode, the depreciating the required sacrifice,
you are immediately opposed by the strongest feelings of
our nature; and the man, whom you attack, is not only
loth to surrender what he values, but indignant at finding
that what is so important to himself, is held so cheap by
another. But if you try the formrier mode, the magnifying
the remunerating power of Him who has required the sacrifice, you make the attack in the channel through which
our nature is most accessible, that of our own interest, and
the probability is very great, that the wavering will be
determined to the side of duty.
We may refer, in illustration of this, to the case of an
individual who is tempted to break the Sabbath, because
his trade is then likely to be specially gainful. We are
not insensible to the strength of the temptation which
presses on a tradesman, who finds it hard to procure a livelihood for himself and his family, and whose business will
perhaps yield more profit on the Sunday, than can be
wrung from it through all the rest of the week.  We
are quite ready, on the contrary, to regard the man who
for conscience sake runs apparently the risk of bringing
starvation on his family, as doing something quite as noble
as the Apostles, when they forsook all at the bidding of
the Redeemer. For, very possibly, it is in humble life
that the greatest demands are made upon faith; and men,
in obscure stations, of whom the world never hears, may
have the hardest tasks to perform, and the greatest sacrifices to make, in the cause of God and religion. We will
not lavish all our applause and admiration on such as
stand foremost in the ranks of Christianity, and whose
names are conspicuous amongst the champions who have




138         THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.        [LeCr.
done and suffered much, in defending truth and maintaining constancy. We will not confine the honours of martyrdom to those who have gone up bravely to the scaffold,
and unflinchingly sealed their confession with their blood.
If we can find an individual who, for conscience sake, is
exposing himself and his children to starvation; who,
rather than to do what he knows to be wrong, boldly
shuts up the avenues of subsistence —why, we affirm of
this individual, that he displays all the staunchness of the
martyr; and we would not more give our reverence and
esteem to the intrepid confessor;. who holds fast the profession of his faith amid the battlings of persecution, than
to the poor shopkeeper, who is resolute in observing the
Sabbath, when, if less conscientious, he might ward off
penury friom his little ones.
We make a great mistake, when we confine eminence
in religious exploit to public scenes, and turbid times: it
is in the loneliness of the domestic circle, and in the discharge of the most commonplace duty, that faith often
fights its hardest battles, and wins its finest triumphs.
And thus are we far enough from depreciating the trial
which that man is called to undergo, the chief part of
whose gains is made by Sunday traffic, and on whom conscience is pressing the obligation that he keep holy the
Sabbath. We have rather, as we before said, a great
sympathy with this man; we feel that he is summoned to
an effort, which is scarcely to be estimated by such as are
placed in comparative affluence. And we could not go
into his shop, to remonstrate with him on the duty of
abstaining from all business on the Sunday, without a
painful consciousness, that we were about to urge on him




VII.]       THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.           139
a sacrifice, such as we had never perhaps ourselves been
required to make, and to prescribe to him  a task, for
which, in like circumstances, we might prove quite incompetent.
But, nevertheless, the duty is clear, and it is not the
difficulty of discharging it which can excuse its neglect.
With what argument then shall we address the man, who
cannot keep the Sabbath, except at a vast risk of bringing
starvation on his household? We find him perhaps disturbed in mind, forced to own to himself that his conduct
is wrong, but deterred, by the threatened and seemingly
inevitable consequence, from boldly acting on his conviction, and closinghis doors on his Sunday customers. Now
we should like to read to this man, as he leans on his
counter, and tells us of a young family, and of a scanty
pittance derived mainly from the traffic of the Sundaywe should like to read to him the account how Christ
dealt with Peter, when disposed to dwell on sacrifices
made in his cause. We take high ground. We tell him
that the Being who delivered the law of the Sabbath, as
He can and will punish its infraction, so He can and will
reward its observance. We tell him, that, so sure as the
Bible is truth, unto them that " seek first the kingdom of
God and his righteousness," shall all else that is needful
be added. We are certain, that, in determining at all
hazards to obey the Lord, he puts himself under the immediate protection of Him, respecting whom it is declared,
"The young lions do lack and suffer hunger; but they
that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing." We
can affirm, without a jot of hesitation, that, in resolving
to follow duty, without consulting interest, he engages on




140         THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.         [LECT.
his side the succours of that Providence, which can give
bread in the desert, and secures to himself that blessing
which emphatically maketh rich. Are we then to be
deterred from urging on the man that he keep holy the
Sabbath, by the greatness of the surrender involved in
obedience?  Are we to be fearful of enjoining the duty,
in all its strictness and sacredness, as though we were not
certified that the Lord of the Sabbath is the Lord also
of the Creation; and that, having at his disposal whatever
exists in the universe, lie hath made an everlasting
covenant with his every true worshipper, "I will never
leave thee, nor forsake thee?"  Oh, the waverer between
duty and interest may point out to us how the sustenance
of his household apparently depends on the traffic which
we entreat him to renounce, and he may speak pathetically of the penury which threatens to come in like an
armed man, if he listen to our advice-but we have only
one thing to say against all this dwelling on present
advantage; and that one thing is not in depreciation of
the boat and the net-but simply what our Lord said to
Peter, "Every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren,
or sisters, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall
receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life."
Now you will all have observed for yourselves that, in
thus examining the case of a man, whose interest seems to
demand the profanation of the Sunday, we have advanced
truths quite as applicable in many other instances. There
is no passage of Scripture more worthy than our text, to
be carried with them, by the man of business amongst
you, into the scenes of their ordinary occupation.  If
David could say, "Thy word have I hid in mine heart,




V.]        THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.          141
that I might not sin against thee," thus implying that
Scripture should be taken with us as a safeguard against
evil, we are sure that no text of Scripture can be better
suited than the one now before us, for the talisman of the
merchant, as he prosecutes the enterprises of commerce.
We may believe that every condition of life has its
peculiar temptations, so that, whatever our circumstances
and employments, there will be a full share of moral difficulties and dangers. But, undoubtedly, in some instances,
the temptations are more marked and apparent than in
others, and no man can be unaware of those which attach
specially to mercantile life. There is no exhibition, which
we reckon more fraught with moral beauty and greatness,
than that of commerce, when prosecuted honourably and
conscientiously. We see mixed up with the dealings of
commerce the grandest purposes of God- towards our fallen
creation.  It has been made for the advantage of the
whole world that there should be a perpetual interchange
of property.  Every country might have been its own
storehouse of every necessary and every comfort: there
might have been nothing to be found, whether for use or
adornment, in the whole' circuit of the globe, which was
not equally and profusely furnished in each separate province. But had there been, as there might have been, this
uniformity of produce, it is evident that nations would
have had little cause for intercourse; and that, each possessing all it could need within its own confines, they
would comparatively have walled themselves off the one
from the other. As it is, one land producing one thing
and another another, the several parts of the human family
are brought into association: commerce knits together the




142        THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.         [LECT,
ends of the earth, and may therefore justly be pronounced
the great propagator of Christianity. Therefore is it that
we have great delight in the movements of commerce.
We view in them far more than manifestations of the restlessness of cupidity, and the cravings of luxury. And
when the ocean is before us, dotted with vessels, which are
hastening to every quarter of the earth, or returning with
the produce of far-off islands or continents, we look on a
nobler spectacle than that of'human ingenuity and hardihood, triumphing over the elements, that wealth may be
accumulated, or appetite pampered: we are beholding the
instrumentality through which God hath ordained that the
sections of the human family should be kept bound together; and the preparation which He hath made for the
diffusion of Christianity, when it shall please Him to give
the word, and great shall be the company of preachers.
And we would go yet further in our encomiums upon
commerce. We have an admiration the very highest for
that merchantman, whose conduct proves him a man of
sterling piety. We have so great a sense of the temptations to which commercial men must be exposed, that we
regard those, whose religion can flourish in the atmosphere
of business, as men in whom the spiritual life must have
gained extraordinary vigour. Hence the engagements of
commerce, as there is great risk of their hindering a man
in his providing for Eternity, so, if pursued in a spirit of
watchfulness and prayer, they may be subservient to his
advance in godliness, and enable him to reach a high point
in Christian attainment. There may be much in the occupations of merchandise which tends to the keeping down
a man's religion: but this only calls for a greater measure




VII.]       THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.           143
of vigilance, and greater intenseness in supplication: and
if commerce bring these along with it, we know no reason
why the frequenter of the wharf and the mart should not
far outstrip in righteousness the inmate of the study, and
gain an eminence in spirituality, which shall be higher in
proportion to his greater dangers and greater difficulties.
Thus, with every feeling awake to the necessary perils
of commercial life, we can, nevertheless, regard the scenes
of business as a stage on which may be won the richest of
the recompenses proposed by Christianity; and we can
therefore look upon a merchant, as we would upon a combatant, to whom is appointed a post of honour, because of
danger; and who, if exposed to more risk, may be animated with more hope.
But whilst we do not hesitate to deliver these sentiments in reference to commerce, we must be plain with
you in speaking of the perils which necessarily attend its
prosecution.  The likelihood is extreme, that men will
become so engrossed with secular occupations, as to neglect, either partially or altogether, the concerns of another
life; and there is at least a possibility, if we may not call
it a probability, that, tempted with the prospect of advantage, they will engage in speculations which are not
strictly honourable, and stoop to some species of underhand dealing. And when we recommend our text as a
kind of talisman, it is specially against dangers such as
these. It may be that there are individuals amongst you,
with whom the pressure of business is an excuse for the
slight attention which they give to the salvation of the
soul. We can readily believe your time so engrossed, that
religious duties seem unavoidably neglected. But we are




144        THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.         ELECT.
certain that it ought not to be thus engrossed, for we are
certain that God allows every man leisure enough for the
escaping Hell, and the gaining Heaven. And therefore
we contend that, as accountable creatures, you are unspeakably blameworthy in giving yourselves thus exclusively to secular engagements. If it be matter of fact,
that business does not leave time enough for religion, you
are bound, at whatever worldly cost, to circumscribe your
business within narrower limits, and bestow the redeemed
hours on the high concerns of Eternity. And you may
meet us here with some such question as that proposed by
St. Peter, if we give up all this, the boat and the net,
" what shall we have therefore?" You may tell us that
what we enjoin as duty, can only be done with great loss;
and that, if you attempt to withdraw yourselves at all
from the world, and to follow, with a less incessant industry, the occupation of your profession, it must be at
an immense sacrifice of substance and prospect. Sirs, if
you cannot be religious, but through bankruptcy, let not
your name in the gazette scare you from inscribing it in
the Lamb's Book of Life. You cannot be losers, by resolving not to lose the soul. We come down upon you with
the truth of the inexhaustibleness of God. It is the proprietor of the wealth of both worlds, of the gold and
diamond of earth, of the magnificence and blessedness of
Heaven, in whose service we entreat you to break off your
alliance with those who live as though they were never to
die. And why speak of risk, when run for Him who
cannot fail his servants? Why speak of loss, when sustained in his cause, who " openeth his hand, and filleth all
things living with plenteousness 2" Oh, you may say to




VII.]       THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.           145
us, you require the surrender of a great deal; we hardly
know how to make the venture: "what shall we have
therefore 2" but you should be nerved to boldness in determining to make religion the prime concern, when you
have heard these words of our Lord, "Every one that
hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or children, or lands,
for my name's sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall
inherit eternal life!"
We need scarcely add, that our text should be a preservative, not only to those who may be tempted so to
engross themselves with business as to leave no time for
religion, but to others who may be solicited to turn aside,
be it ever so little, from rectitude and integrity. If we
have passed a high encomium upon commerce, of course it
has been upon commerce as prosecuted with the strictest
honour and conscientiousness, and not as deformed by any
thing approaching to evasion or overreaching. The transaction which, though not punishable by law, may be convicted of meanness, or proved inconsistent with a high
sense of honour, is as unbecoming to a Christian as what is
actually dishonest. What the world calls a shabby thing,
the Christian should call a sinful thing. The morality of
the Gospel is vastly more delicate and sensitive than the
nicest principle of what men call honour; if it make the
fighting a duel sinful, it makes the giving an offence sinful;
it requires us to consult in every thing the glory of God,
and is, therefore, as abhorrent from trick and'underhand
dealing, as from robbery and extortion. If, therefore, men
be placed in such circumstances, that they may make a
profitable speculation, and amass much present wealth, if
they will but swerve a little from just and honourable con10




146        THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.        [LECw.
duct, we require them to remember that the God, whom
they profess to serve, is a God by whom actions are
weighed, whose balances are so nice that they will detect
fraud in what is mean, and expose as iniquitous all that is
disreputable.
And if the swerving from what is upright in trade
promise a man advantages which he is loath to forego, let
him dwell on the word "hundredfold" in our text, and
strengthen himself in rectitude by thoughts of the divine
fulness and power. Thy God is the God who hath said by
his Prophet to those who made their religion secondary to
their money, "Ye looked for much, and lo, it came to
little; and when ye brought it home, I did blow upon it."
He is the God of whom Solomon declares, "By the fear
of the Lord are riches, honour, and life." Therefore, why
speak complainiugly of the boat and the net which have
to be left, when every one who leaves any thing for Christ
shall receive a hundredfold, and inherit eternal life?
Whenever, then, you are tempted to do wrong, for the
sake of a present advantage, bring to mind what we have
insisted on throughout our discourse, the relunerating
power of God. If we would resist evil, our thoughts
should be much upon Heaven. If we lived in the expectation of glory and immortality, at what a great disadvantage would the objects of sense, and the things of the
world, make their attack. We should not waver for present gain, if we were counting up the "treasure in the
heavens which faileth not, where no thief approacheth,
neither moth corrupteth."  And therefore would we have
you animate yourselves for the moral warfare, by considering what great wealth is promised to the faithful. Is the




VII.]       THE HUNDREDFOLD RECOMPENSE.            147
gold seducing you? are the precious stones dazzling you?
Then think of that city, whose street is pure gold, and
whose every gate is one pearl. Is earthly fame alluring
you?  Then think of that throne which the righteous are
to ascend, of the crown they are to wear, of the sceptre
they are to wield. Are worldly pleasures tempting you?
Then think of pleasures so deep and ever flowing, that
they are spoken of as a river, of joys so unmeasured, that
he who partakes of them  will be abundantly satisfied.
Oh, thus-whenever inclined to ask, as if in doubt and
hesitation, "What shall we have therefore?" —take our
text as an answer with which to repel the tempter, " Every
man that hath forsaken houses or lands for my sake, shall
receive an hundredfold, and inherit eternal life i"




LECTURE  VIII.
jw1 tife BArE ttgrn grut.
MATT. vi. 25.
i As not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?"
THERE is a simple but a very strong argument contained
in this question; and it can hardly fail, we think, to be for
your advantage that we should examine and explain it.
Our blessed Lord and Saviour is reproving the faithlessness of his disciples, who were anxious in regard of the
supply of the daily necessaries of life. " Take no thought,"
He saith, "for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye
shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on."
And why were they not to take thought? was there not
some measure of uncertainty as to their obtaining sufficiency
of what they needed? and if so, on what principle were
they to dismiss all anxiety? Our text gives the answer to
these questions. From  whom  had life proceeded? by
whose hands had the body been wrought?  Surely God,
and God alone, was to be regarded as the Author of their
being: He had called them into existence: from Him had
come that structure which was so "fearfully and wonderfully made."  Well, then, if God had given life, was He




THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.           1149
likely to withhold the means by which life mlight be sustained? if his hands had made and fashioned the body,
would He be neglectful of his curious work, and leave it
without raiment? He had already given the greater good,
would He then refuse the less? " Is not the life more than
meat, anil the body than raiment?"
You see now the drift of the question. The argument
is, that, having given the costlier thing, God must be ready
to bestow the less precious; meat was inferior to life,
raiment to the body; surely then, by giving the life and
the body, God had pledged Himself to the giving also the
food and the raiment; and why then should there be mistrust, why anxiety as to the supply of daily wants?  Ah,
my brethren, there is indeed fine practical logic in this: if
God's love towards us have prompted Him to the bestowing on us a great good, ought we not to infer fr'om that
bestowment his readiness to bestow on us every lesser
good?  St. Paul throws the same argument into its highest
form, when he says, " He that spared not his own Son, but
delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him
also freely give us all things?" You will readily perceive
that this is precisely the same argument. God, in giving
us his Son, has bestowed the highest possible gift; we may
be sure then that the love, which would not withhold this
greatest of all boons, will prompt to the conferring whatsoever of lesser good would be really for our advantage.
Indeed, we might throw our text into the closest resemblance to this saying of St. Paul: Christ Himself is our
life; He gave his own body, his flesh, for the life of the
world-who then can doubt that God will bestow on us
such good things as we need? they cannot be beyond his




150           THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.          [LECT.
love, inasmuch as they must be inferior to what his love
has already conferred, " Is not the life more than meat, andc.
the body than raiment?"
But we cannot bring out the argument in all its force
and extent, unless we first enlarge on the fact, that, in
giving us life, that life which is in his Son, the Lord Jesus
Christ, God hath displayed the greatest possible love, inasmuch as the gift involved the greatest possible sacrifice.
If this shall once be established, if it shall be evident that
the love, which could consent to the giving up of Christ,
can have nothing more costly to surrender, nothing more
tremendous to encounter, then, indeed, we are on a vantageground fiom which to resist every form of unbelief; we
shall have right to stand beneath the cross, and say to all
doubts, anxieties, and fears, "Is not the life more than
meat, and the body than raiment?"
Now there is perhaps no history in the Bible, with
which we are all more familiar than with that of Abraham
offering up Isaac. We become acquainted with it whilst
children; and the facts cling tenaciously to us when we
have grown into men. And not only are we acquainted
with the narrative; we are all more or less aware of the
typical character of the transaction: we have no difficulty
in recognising in Isaac a figure of our blessed Redeemer,
but suppose that, as the lad bears the wood, and submits
unresistingly to the being laid on the altar, he represents
the Lord Jesus Christ, carrying his own cross, and meekly
giving Himself as a sacrifice for the sins of the world.
But if the son of Abraham thus serves as a type of
the Son of God, is there any thing typical about Abraham
himself? may we presume to think, may we think without




VIII.]        THE LIFE MAORE TITAN -EAT.        151
impropriety, or irreverence, that the earthly Father, in the
feelings which must have agitated him, as he surrendered
his well-beloved Son, may be looked.at as representing,
however partially and dimly, the heavenly Father when
He gave up Christ to ignominy and death? We should
proceed with great caution when we thus inquire into the
possible extension of the type. But at the same time we
are not to allow the fear of ascribing human feelings to
God, to keep us from endeavouring to obtain as correct an
idea as our imperfections will admit of the movements and
workings of the everlasting mind. No doubt, it were to
forget what God is, how deeply, how sublimely imperturbable, to suppose that the first person in the Trinity, when
giving up the second to death, felt as Abraham must have
felt, when stretching forth the knife to slay Isaac. But
are we therefore to think that the Father felt nothing? are
we to suppose that it cdst the Father nothing to give his
Son for our Redemption? This were manifestly preposterous.  What would become of the well-known text,
~" God so loved the world that he gave his Only-begotten
Son," if there were not a great sacrifice made by the
Father in giving the Son, as well as by the Son in giving
Himself? We do not then say that the Father, when
bruising and putting to grief the Son, felt exactly as
Abraham felt when offering up Isaac. But, probably, we
come nearer the truth than in any other way, by taking
the earthly parent as a faint and remote image of the
heavenly. We may still be immeasurably distant from
the actual feeling of the divine mind, and we must be
careful not to think that this mind could have been agitated and torn as must have been the human. But, at all




152          THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.          [LECT
events, let us be sure that God did feel, that He was sorely
pained, and mysteriously stricken-however defective, or
even inappropriate, such language may be —when He gave
Christ to be a sacrifice for the sins of the world. The
apparent impropriety of ascribing pain to God should only
make us believe that it was something immeasurably more
painful than what we call pain which Deity endured.
And we should wish it strongly impressed upon you,
that the Father, as well as the Son, had an immense part
to do in the work of your Redemption. We have very
little fear of Christians overlooking what was done for
them by the second person in the Trinity-it was done by
Him in the form of a man visibly and palpably; and even
the most indifferent can scarce shut their eyes to the agony
and bloody sweat, the passion and the cross. But we
have the greatest fear of your comparatively overlooking
what has been done for you by- the first person, and by
the third, and of your thus acknowledging three persons
in the essence of Godhead, whilst you practically acknowledge but one in the work of Redemption. And of these
two persons, the first and the third, it is the first which
you are most likely to forget, inasmuch as the third, the
Holy Ghost, is still busied, though invisibly, on your behalf; and his operations on your minds must serve occasionally to admonish you as to his existence, and the debt
which you owe Him. But the first person, because He
had apparently nothing to do in your Redemption, because
He remained in the magnificence of his uncreated glory,
whilst the second came down to suffer in our nature, and
the third to sanctify that nature; this first person is likely
Jo be regarded by you with wholly different feelings from




VIII.]        THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.            153
those with which you regard the second or the third, with
a far lower sense of gratitude, of veneration, of obligation.
We caution you against this. If Abraham had slain Isaac
for your benefit, and Isaac had consented to be thus slain,
would you not have felt that your debt to Abraham was
of just the same amount as your debt to Isaac? that it
must have cost the Father as much to give the Son, as it
cost the Son to give Himself?  Apply without hesitation,
but with the deepest reverence, the very same principle to
the Godhead; and when you say how shall we ever repay
the untold love of the Son who spared not Himself, say
also how shall we ever repay the equally untold love of
the Father who " spared not his own Son," but gave Him
up for the life of the world.
For you must further remember, in order to the laying
a broad foundation for our argument, that Christ was
God's Son in no figurative or metaphorical sense: there is
no power in the Scriptural reasoning to which we have referred, if you suppose Christ to have been a creature: its
strength wholly lies in his having been one with the Creator, from everlasting and to everlasting, co-equal and coeternal. But, acknowledging this, into what a depth, what
a mystery, do we immediately plunge, when we would
ponder that exceeding great love of God which was manifested in his sending his own Son as our Saviour. We
might have supposed that sin would have so alienated God
fiom us, that, on the moment of apostacy, we should have
become objects of nothing but his righteous hatred and indignation. This would seem to have been the case when
angels transgressed. We read of nothing to show that
loftier beings than ourselves, which kept not their first




154          THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.          [LECT.
estate, have enjoyed any visitations of love. They become,
as it would appear, immediately and hopelessly, outcast
wanderers on a sea of tribulation, with no single star of
mercy discernible through the clouds which hung fearfully
above. But it was different with man. He too had cast
Himself on a sea of tribulation; and over him was woven
a firmament of clouds; but, so far from having been left
to buffet hopelessly with the storm, and to look up despairingly to unmitigated blackness, God gave him notices from
the first, of a covert from the tempest, and painted on the
dark masses, which appeared charged with destruction, a
bow whose bright stripes were prophetic of deliverance.
It is beyond us to give reasons for a difference so vast in
the divine dealings with angels and with men. We acknowledge it as a mystery, profound, unfathomable, that,
whilst love for the higher rank of being seems to have
been destroyed by rebellion, love for the lower survived
that rebellion, yea, prompted God to give his own Son for
our rescue.
But there is no need that we should be able to explain
a truth, in order to our believing it, and drawing from it
consolation. God's ways indeed are not our ways, neither
are his thoughts our thoughts: but we may adore where
we cannot fathom; we may rejoice where we also marvel.
God was not willing that man should perish, though man
had altogether pulled down ruin on himself, and not a
tongue could have been raised in complaint of injustice,
had the race been abandoned to the wretchedness which it
had wilfully incurred. But how will God succour the
race? how, pledged as He is by his nature, as well as by
his law, to punish every sin, will He maintain his own




VIII.]       THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.           155
attributes, and yet not destroy the guilty? Ah, here was
the question for which finite wisdom could afford no solution; but of which we now wish you specially to observe,
that, when solved, it presented a difficulty which no finite
love could have ever overcome. Infinite wisdom devised
a plan through which God might be just and yet the
justifier of sinners. But this plan required that a person
of the ever-blessed Trinity should assume human nature,
and make expiation in that nature, for sins done therein
by countless generations. And then came the question,
Will divine love consent to this plan? Will that love show
itself so great as to proceed with the purpose of Redemption, when such a decision has been reached as to who
alone can be the Redeemer? Yes, God " spared not his
own Son, but delivered Him up for us all." No lesser
sacrifice would have saved us; and God loved us so well
that He would save us at any sacrifice, except that indeed
of his own attributes or perfections.  Wonderful love!
what else is the thousandth part as wonderful? unless it
be that the human heart can be proof against this love,
and that men can give scorn and contempt in return for
God's giving his only and well-beloved Son! I think that
this wonder, but this alone, is more surprising. There
may be one exhibition which surpasses in its strangeness
that of God's not sparing his Son; but it can only be that
of man's rejecting the gift. Yes, obdurate sinner, if such
an one there be in the present assembly, angels looked
wonderingly on, when a person of the Godhead assumed
thy nature to bear thy sins; but they look, it may be,
more wonderingly still upon thee, who canst resist such a
Saviour, or set at naught such a sacrifice.




156          THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.          [LECT.
But if the displayed love do nothing in regard of the
obdurate sinner, but prove him wonderful in his obduracy,
and therefore deserving of signal condemnation, what
effect ought it to produce on such as repent of their sins,
and desire in all things to yield themselves to God?
Surely a most encouraging and animating effect. God,
the timid disciple will say, is indeed surpassingly great;
there cannot be the good which it is not in his power to
bestow, nor the evil which it is not in his power to remove.
If therefore I might only venture to think that God is
favourably disposed towards me, I might indeed exclaim
with the Apostle, "Who can be against me " But, "iniquities prevail against me," "my sins are more in number
than the hairs of my head:" I dare not then look up to this
wonderful Being: that He is amazing in power and wisdom, is every where traced on the visible universe: but I
know also that He is of purer eyes than to look upon
iniquity; and how then can I, a transgressor from my
youth, be comforted by thoughts of his unmeasured supremacy 2 Indeed, it is true that you require other intelligence than can be gathered from the visible system of
things, with all its majesty, and grandeur, and harmony!
We must take you therefore to Calvary; we shall find
encouragement for you there, beneath a darkened heaven,
and on a trembling earth, if you cannot gather it from a
firmament strewed with innumerable worlds, and a landscape rich in every beauty. Standing beneath the cross,
every fear ought to vanish. God is there revealed in a
character which must satisfy you, if any thing can, that
He loves you, and is ready to impart to you every possible
blessing. We wish to make you feel, that, as a redeemed




VIII.]       THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.          157
creature, you have God on your side. But it is nothing
that we say to you, " God spake, and it was done; He
commanded, and it stood fast." It is nothing that we say,
look on the worlds which He hath formed, think of the
tribes upon tribes which He hath animated, consider the
thousand times ten thousand evidences of his being Lord
of the Universe, " glorious in holiness, fearful in praises,
doing wonders." This does not meet your case; you
rather shrink from a Being so refulgently awful. But
when we tell you that God so loved you as to give his Son
for you; when we point to the expiring Saviour, and tell
you that He dies that you may live, life, your present life,
your future life, being all drawn from his deep wounds,
then what is to hinder you, surrounded though you may
be by every form of want, and fear, and anxiety,-what is
to hinder you firom a confident reliance on the love of
God as adequate to your every need, a reliance which will
find expression in the triumphant question, " Is not the
life more than meat, and the body than raiment?"
Now, in thus laying a foundation on which to expand
the argument involved in our text, we have already in a
measure set forth that argument itself. Our object has
been, by dwelling on the love of God as manifested in his
giving his own Son for our Redemption, to show you that
we have already received from God the greatest gift which
even God Himself could bestow. We declare it impossible for even imagination to suggest any thing greater
which could be done for us by God, than was done when
He surrendered, for our sakes, the Lord Jesus Christ to
ignominy and death. And since the love which could
prompt God to give us this greatest gift must be sufficient




158           THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.           [LECT.
to move Him to bestow any lesser, you have only, in our
text, to consider life as resulting from  the sacrifice of
Christ, and you may scatter every doubt as to the supply
of daily wants, by the emphatic question "' Is not the life
more than meat, and the body than raiment?"
You must all, we think, be alive to the strength of this
simple reasoning.  I cannot gaze on the Redeemer of
human kind, wearing the form of a servant, though I
know him all the while for the everlasting God; I cannot
behold Him travelling in the greatness of his strength, and
nevertheless " a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief,"
without feeling that the love, which could prompt on my
behalf so stupendous a substitution, must be verily a love
which can withhold from me nothing which would be for
my good. It is not that every thing will be bestowed
which my heart may desire; but it is that nothing will be
denied which my happiness may need. I have an assurance
which nothing can shake, nothing, at least, short of an
absolute demonstration that Christianity, after all, is but a
"cunningly-devised fable,"-an assurance that I am the
object of a love, which I cannot overdraw by any want, or
any wish, seeing that whatsoever I can ask must come
short of what I have received. I know not where doubts,
fears, anxieties, would be, if Christians lived more habitually beneath the shadow of the cross. Christians are too
much accustomed to take their estimate of divine love
from  temporal appointments; whereas, the sacrifice of
Christ should be always their measure. Not that divine
love does not appear gloriously great, when judged by its
common and daily manifestations. 0 cold hearts, which
glow not as love provides for our wants, gives health and




VIII.]       THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.           159
abundance, and gladdens us with the sweet charities of
home. But these manifestations may be interrupted: sickness and want may be upon us: death may break up our
circle, and disappointment mar our hopes: whither then
am I to turn for assurance of Divine love, if my measurement of it have been derived from  what I have lost?
But measure by the cross of Christ, and I know, I feel,
the love infinite, though I may be an outcast, worn with
pain, deserted by friends, hunted by calamity,-as well as
though r4y path were over flowers, and every present good
were placed within my reach. It must be in love that
things are denied me: it must be in love that things are
taken from me: He who gave his Son for me cannot be
unwilling, must be desirous, to give me also whatsoever
would advantage me; and, therefore, whilst I can point to
the cross, and say with Thomas, " My Lord and my God,"
I ought to be able to defy penury, smile at affliction,
trample upon death, confident that the Almighty loves me
with an everlasting love.
Would that you might all learn to make this use of
the sacrifice of Christ. We want those of you who are
believers in Christ, to turn, if you will allow us the expression, the atonement to daily account. We would not
have you regard it as less awful, but we would have you
employ it more frequently,-not reserving it as a high
mystery of faith, to be contemplated only in moments of
pure and seraphic abstraction, but carrying it with you as
a practical thing, just as the mariner would carry his compass and chart. There is not a care by which you are
harassed, which the atonement might not lighten, if not
disperse: there is not an evil with which you are threat



160           THE LIFE MIORE THAN MEAT.         [LECT
ened, from which the atonement might not take all menacing aspect: there is not a loss with which you are visited,
the void left by which the atonement might not fill.
Glorious, universal, inexhaustible tr'uth! the cross opens to
us Heaven, and, at the same time, irradiates earth: it secures
us every present good, as well as every future: it fills the
ages of eternity with blessedness, and the moments of
time with assurance: it dries tears, hushes griefs, soothes
anxieties, whilst it pardons sins, subdues corruptions, proffers glories. I marvel not that St. Paul shoul& exclaim,
" God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our
Lord Jesus Christ."  Oh, whilst we look upon the bleeding
Lamb, and. feel that through his death we have life,
we may also feel that no want shall be unsupplied, no
sorrow unsanctified, no real good withheld; for we can
ask in a tone of confidence, in a tone of triumph, " Is
not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?"
But now it is necessary to guard against any misapprehension or abuse of the doctrine which we have derived
from our text. We have endeavoured to show you that
the love of God, as evidenced by the gift of his Son, must
necessarily be so great that the true believer may be confident that nothing will be withheld from him, the receiving
which would be eventually for his good.  Our argument has been, that, in giving the greater good, God
shows a love which must move Him to the bestowing any
lesser: having given life, He must be ready to give food,
food being inferior to life: having given the body, He
must be ready to give raiment, raiment being inferior to
the body: having given his Son, He must be ready to give




VIII.]        THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.            161
all things, there being nothing which can be comparable
with that mighty bestowment.
But though the Divine love towards men be thus
wonderful, thus immeasurable, there is nothing in it to
encourage transgressors, who persist in transgression.
There is no ground for saying, Surely God loves man too
well to permit his destruction: He will never cast into hell
beings whom He has redeemed at so stupendous a cost.
There might have been some ground for saying this, had
God published a free pardon, without requiring an expiation.
But, as we have constantly to remind you, God's hatred of
sin was just as strongly displayed as his love of men, in
the gift of his own Son; so that the atonement, if irresistible in its testimony that every repentant sinner may be
saved, gives equally decisive witness, that every impenitent
sinner must be lost.
And we wish you to observe, that, though nothing can
be larger than what a Christian may take as the measure
of God's love, when the life in our text is identified with
that life which is " hid with God in Christ," still the passage
is so worded as to encourage none but those who are true
believers in the Saviour. We admit that, although it is of
life in the ordinary sense that Christ speaks in our text,
yet the argument itself cannot stop short at this: it must
be extended so as to take in life in that large, that magnificent sense which belongs to it when Christ is spoken of as
the " Life of the world." But though, when thus extended,
the one gift, the gift of his own Son, proves God's readiness to bestow every other, it does not prove his readiness
to bestow good on any but those to whom his Son is
emphatically life. If Christ is your life, then you have
11




162          THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.          [LECT.
full right, from the argument of our text, to consider God
as pledged to the withholding from you no good thing:
but if Christ be not your life-and He is not the life of
those of you who are still " dead in trespasses and sins,"
living in iniquity, in contempt of religion, in neglect of
the soul-then, as yet, you have practically nothing to do
with the question, " Is not the life more than meat?" the
life is more than meat; but till you have the life, you are
not in a position to draw the inference as to the meat: with
Christ, every thing is pledged to you; without Christ,
nothing.
And it is worth your observing how accurately, as thus
explained and limited, our text corresponds with that saying of St. Paul, to which we have, all along, been supposing it parallel.  " He that spared not his own Son, but
delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Himn
also freely give us all things?" " With Him also," observe
that. It is a joint gift, so to speak, to which God has
pledged Himself through the scheme of Redemption-the
gift of all things with Christ, but of nothing without
Christ. If you will take Christ, you may be sure of every
thing besides; but if you refuse Christ, there is no promise,
no pledge-no, not even in the love which prompted God
not to spare his own Son-that any blessing whatsoever
shall fall to your portion. And whilst this secures our
text against any but the most wilful abuse, leaving men
inexcusable if they find in the atonement any ground for
expecting that God will not finally punish the unbelieving,
it ought also to furnish a rule as to what may be lawfully
the objects of a Christian's desires, and the subjects of his
prayers. May I wish for this or that thing?.may I ask




VIII.]       THE LIFE MORE THAN MEAT.          163
for this or that thing? These questions may be answered
by another-is the thing one with which Christ may be
joined? is there any incongruity between it and Christ, so
that I could not ask Christ and it in one breath?  The
promise is, that God will give us all things " with Christ;"
that where He has given the life, He will not withhold
the meat; but such a promise excludes, by its very terms,
whatsoever is not in harmony with Christ, whatsoever
does not accord with his being our " life," " in whom we
livo and move and have our being."  Tell me that all
things are promised or pledged; and I might wish, I
might ask, for riches, and pleasures, and honours; but tell
me that all things are promised "with Christ" as "my
life," and I shall be ashamed to entreat what would not
combine well with Christ.
Shall I ask wealth? nay, there may indeed be no reason
why wealth and Christ should not go together: but when
I think that the Redeemer had not where to lay his head,
I feel as though it were like insulting his poverty, to ask
that he and riches may unite in my portion. Shall I pray
for distinction? nay, again, it may very well happen that
Christ and earthly honours fall to the same possessor: but
we speak now of what a Christian may desire, of what he
may pray for, rather than of what his God may allot: and
I think the aspiration for distinction will be stopped, and
the prayer for it choked, by the remembrance that what
is promised is promised with Christ, and that human fame
is a strange ingredient to compound with the lowly
Redeemer.
And if, from  observing how the Christian's desires
should be chastened, and, his prayers regulated, by the




164          THE LIFE MORE'THAN MEAT.         [LECT.
promise of the " meat" being only to those who have the
"life," you regard it as a part of the promise, part of the
covenanted blessing, that, with every thing which the believer has, he is also to have Christ, whose breast does not
kindle, whose heart does not leap? God gives nothing to
his people, with which he does not, at the same time, give
Christ. Christ being the life, all else that He gives is
made to maintain and cherish life in us. He may give
riches; but He gives Christ with the riches; so that, sanctified by the Redeemer, they shall be employed to his
glory. He may give sources of earthly happiness; but
He gives Christ with those sources, Christ to make them
doubly sweet, and yet to prevent their drawing off the
affections from heavenly joys. He may give trouble: but,
sorrow and sighing, will ye not flee before such a promise?
He gives Christ with the trouble, Christ to enlighten darkness, Christ to hush disquietude, Christ to say to the fearful spirit, as He said to the terrified disciples, " It is I, be
not afraid." The Christian should find nothing precious in
which he does not find Christ, nor any thing disastrous in
which he does. And Christ with every thing is his covenanted portion-O noble heritage! what is beautiful in
itself becoming immeasurably more beautiful by and
through the accompaniment, and what is disastrous losing
all its power to injure. Is not such a heritage beyond
human hope, as it evidently and incalculably is beyond
human desert? Nay, not so, does it appear to you far to
transcend what man might dare to expect, that God should
freely give him all things with Christ?  It may, if you
judge Divine love from what is traced by burning worlds
on the firmament, or written in the loveliness and abun



VIII.]        TIEi LiPt7'E MdORE THAN MEAT.    165
dance which mantle the earth. But not if you judge from
the cross; not, if you estimate from the scheme of Redemption. All things may be ours with Christ; all things
are ours with Christ: unbelief itself may well shrink from
the reason which we urge-are not all things in the power
of Him who " spared not his own Son, but delivered Him
up for us all? having given us his Son, what else can He
be willing to withhold? for tell us, ye of little faith, " Is
not the life more than meat, and the body than raiment?"
There is little that can need to be added, even were
our time not just exhausted. We would only guard you
for a moment against a possible misapprehension of our
foregoing argument. Remember what that argument has
been,-that a greater gift is a pledge for every lesser; life
for food, the body for raiment, Christ for all things. But
this in no degree takes away the freeness of the gift: by
giving the one, God has not bound Himself, in such way
or sense, to the giving the ot:hr, as that we are not indebted for it to his unmerited bounty. The gift of Christ
as our life, does indeed both ensure and include every
other; but, as it was of God's free grace that we have
Christ, it is of God's free grace that we have whatever
flows from or is incorporated with this " all in all" to the
believer.
We should be jealous, with a holy jealousy, of any interference with the doctrine of grace. God gives not in
return for any thing which we have done, not in expectation of any thing which we may do: God gives freely, out
of his own wonderful, incomprehensible goodness. We
had no claim upon Him before we were redeemed: neither
have we any claim upon Him now that we have been re



166           THE LIFE MORE THAN MIEAT.
deemed: it was purely of grace, that He sent his Son to
die for us: and it is purely of grace, that He follows up
that gift with " all things that pertain unto life and godliness."  O that we may never lose sight of this. We are
so prone to pride, that we require to have plain words
made plainer-" gift" made "free gift"-else shall we be
intruding something of our own, and imagining that, at
some point or another, God becomes our debtor rather
than our benefactor. From first to last, we draw upon his
bounty-the life, the meat; the body, the raiment; all are
free gifts.
Let us serve Him with all diligence; let us consecrate
to Him our time, our substance, our strength; still, at last,
eternal life will be his gift, his free gift, through Jesus
Christ our Lord.'"Where is boasting then? it is excluded."  But, where is gratitude? alas! often excluded
too. O God, it is a new mercy, to be sensible of mercies.
WTe receive every thing  ofiom Thee,-enable us to trace
every thing to thy grace, that we may use every thing to
thy glory. This is but asking what ifay sustain the life in
us: it is to crush that life, to forget its Author.  And if
we ask humbly for grace, that we may own, and cherish,
Christ "formed in us," it will not, it cannot be Teniedour Lord Himself is our warrant, in his pregnant and emphatic question, " Is not the life more than meat, and the
body than raiment?"




LECTURE IX.
JOHN xii. 39-41.
"Therefore they could not believe, because that Esaias said again, He hath blinded their
eyes, and hardened their heart; that they should not see with their eyes, nor understand with their heart, and be converted, and I should heal them. These things said
Esaias, when be saw his glory, and spake of Him."
WHEN Esaias saw whose glory? when he spake of whom?
There can be no debate upon this; for the Evangelist is
here undoubtedly referring to Christ: he is relating the
unbelief of the Jews, notwithstanding the many miracles which Jesus had wrought; and therefore it is the
Lord Jesus Christ whose glory Esaias had seen, and of
whom this Prophet had spoken. And to what particular
occasion does the Evangelist refer? When had Esaias
seen  Christ's glory?  when  had  he  spoken  of Christ?
This is determined by the words which St. John quotes,
describing the judicial blindness which was to settle on the
Jews. But when was it that Esaias had spoken of God's
blinding their eyes, and hardening their hearts? You
have heard in the first lesson of this morning's service, the
lesson which contains the account of a marvellous vision
vouchsafed to Isaiah; and wishing to discourse to you on




168                ISAIAH'S VISION.             [LECT,
that vision, we take our text as furnishing the clue to its
right interpretation, inasmuch as it shows, what we might
not else have been able to prove, that the personage therein introduced, with so much of sublime and magnificent
accompaniment, is none other than the ever-blessed Redeemer, the " Man of sorrows," but, at the same time, the
"King of kings, and Lord of lords." It was Christ, whom
the Prophet saw seated on a throne which could be none
other than that of absolute Deity, before whom seraphim
veiled their faces, and in regard of whom they called the
one to the other, " Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of Hosts;
the whole earth is full of his glory."
For this was the vision. The Lord was on his throne:
his train filled the Temple: the seraphim stood around,
each with six wings-burning creatures; for such the name
signifies —with two of these wings each seraph covered his
face; wherefore, but in token, and in adoration, of the
awful majesty of Christ?  "With twain He covered his
feet;" wherefore, but to teach us that we may not always
think to trace the course of God's dealings? The feet of
his ministers are covered as well as winged; yea, covered
by their wings, so that their very motion may be concealment. "And with twain he did fly;" wherefore, but to
show us the alacrity with which angelic beings give themselves to the executing the purposes of their Maker?
You read that the train of the Lord filled the whole
Temple, just as, according to the song of the seraphim,
was the whole earth to become " full of his glory." Who
are we that we kindle not at the thought of the universal
dominion of Christ?  When the Pharisees would have
had our Lord rebuke his disciples because they shouted




IX.]               ISAIAH'S VISION.             169
his praises, "He answered, and said unto them, I tell you
that, if these should hold their peace, the stones would
immediately cry out." And as though both to incite and
reproach us through inanimate things, the chorus of the
seraphim, heard perhaps coldly by ourselves, produced
commotion in the magnificent sanctuary: the wood, if not
the stone, answered to the call, and seemed to breathe out
response in mysterious cloud; for we read, "And the
posts of the door moved at the voice of Him that cried,
and the house was filled with smoke."
And what effect was produced on Isaiah, when he thus
saw the glory of the Redeemer? We cannot wonder that
he was confounded.by such an unearthly manifestation, that
the splendours of the occupant of the throne, the voices
of the seraphim, the shakings of the Temple, all combined
to the overwhelming him with dread. You have the effect
thus described: "Then said I, Woe is me! for I am undone, because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in
the midst of a people of unclean lips; for mine eyes
have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts." The Prophet,
however, was not left in this his dread and perplexity.
You next read, "Then flew one of the seraphim unto me,
having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the
tongs from off the altar; and he laid it upon my mouth,
and said, Lo, this hath touched thy lips, and thine iniquity
is taken away, and thy sin purged."
We think that there is very interesting and instructive
subject-matter of discourse, both in the deportment or
conduct of Isaiah, and the emblematical action which was
then wrought upon him. W5e invite you to the careful
consideration of both of these, brought before us as they




170               ISAIAH'S VISION.             [LECT.
have been by the lesson of the day. Come, then, and let
us examine the perturbed exclamations of the Prophet,
and the mode which God took to re-assure his servant, on
that memorable occasion when, according to the Evangelist
John, Esaias saw the glory of Christ, and spake of Him
to the world.
And was then the Prophet confounded and overcome?
Ah, my brethren, how affecting a testimony is given to the
corruption and alienation of our nature, by the fact that a
manifestation of the Divine glory could produce in us
nothing but dread and confusion. Not one of us will for a
moment imagine that less terror would be excited in himself by the throne, and the voice, and the smoke, than
was displayed by Isaiah. Put the case. Gathered as we
are within the house of the Lord, we may suppose the
house suddenly filled with manifestations of that presence
which is not indeed the less actual, because not proved by
any visible tokens: we may imagine the Divinity, who is
undoubtedly in the midst of us, though not so as to be
perceptible by our senses, forcing Himself, as it were, on
every eye, and every ear, by an unearthly spectacle and
unearthly sounds. We do not speak of a manifestation
of God as taking vengeance; but only of a manifestation
of glory and greatness, stripped so far as such a manifestation could be, of every; thing necessarily appalling-a
manifestation of the pomp and splendour of heavenly
places and heavenly beings; a manifestation of Christ in
his essential dignities, surrounded by ministering spirits
who celebrate his holiness.
It might be, that, on a sudden, a brightness, such as
was not of this earth, pervaded the house of the Lord:




IX.]               ISAIAH'S VISION.              171
the radiant form of the Son of Man, throned on the fire
and the cloud, might be visible to every eye;. whilst seraphim went to and fro, mysteriously beautiful, weaving a
high song of triumph and celebration. And what effect
would be wrought on the whole of this assembly? Not
merely on those who are still at enmity with God, and
living in actual contempt of his authority, but on others
who may be regarded as righteous, whose endeavour it is
to keep the commandments of their Creator and Redeemer?
We need not hesitate to say that the effect would be universally-the same as on Isaiah. If all utterance were not
taken away by terror, every tongue, the tongue of the
righteous, and the tongue of the unrighteous, would fearfully exclaim, "Woe is me, for I am undone:" in place of
any thing like delight in the glorious manifestation, and
desire for its continuance, there would, at the best, be a
sense of uneasiness and dread, a kind of feeling analogous
to that which prompted the Gerbesenes to beseech the
Redeemer to depart out of their coasts; and it would be
considered as a relief, every one would be more at his ease,
when all traces of the burning display had disappeared,
and there were no longer the figures of seraphim before
our eyes, nor their anthems in our ears.
But how is this? Wherefore comes it that there should
be such shrinking from contact with the invisible world?
a shrinking.of which every one must be conscious, forasmuch as the dread of what is called an apparition may be
declared universal, and the stoutest, if they thought themselves confronted by a spirit, the inhabitant of another
state of being, would experience a fear and a recoil such
as an army of living men, however threatening their atti.




172               ISAIAH'S VISION.             [LECT.
tude, might fail to excite. Ah, my brethren, you cannot
require that we should go at any length into answering
these questions. You can answer them for yourselves.
Your own hearts, your own consciences, furnish the reply.
It is nothing but the corruption, the alienation, of our
nature, which makes us averse from immediate contact
with spiritual intelligences. Man is far gone from original righteousness: even those, who have been renewed
through the operations of God's Spirit, retain so many
traces of the fall, indwelling sin is still in such measure
unsubdued, that there is want of thorough congeniality
between themselves and beings of unspotted holiness; and
this want of congeniality will produce a sense of uneasiness, whenever they are forced into unusual intercourse.
Were we an assembly of unfallen creatures, waiting for a
season when we should be admitted into intimate and
eternal communion with God, it would be to us a foretaste
of blessedness, to have the Lord amongst us on his throne,
and the angelic throng made visible in their beauty: far
from imitating Peter, when he exclaimed, overpowered by
the miracle, "Depart from me, 0 Lord," we should copy
him in his rapture on the Mount of Transfiguration; we
should long'to build tabernacles, that we might detain the
shining visitants, and never again lose so delightful a companionship.
But, alas, sinfulness has been so ingrained into our
nature, that it must be eradicated by death, before we can
bear Heaven. We cannot feel at home with God, and
with Christ, and with Angels, until the earthly house of
this tabernacle be resolved, that both soul and body may
be purged from all remainders of corruption. But is not




lX.]               ISAIAH'S VISION.              173
this amongst the most melancholy and convincing of
proofs, that it is not the exaggeration of a morbid theology, which declares the human heart to be "deceitful
above all things, and desperately wicked?"  It tells, we
think, almost more against our fallen nature, that a good
man should shrink from God, than that a bad man should
league with Satan. And you might, when wishing to give
evidence that we have indeed gone astray, like lost sheep,
from God, point out such an instance as that of Saul in
the cave of the sorceress, asking whether, as there went
on the unhallowed incantations, and the form of an old
man came up shrouded in a mantle, and the appalled
monarch, from whom the Lord had departed, so that He
answered him neither by dreams, nor by Urim, nor by
prophets, sought to disquiet the dead, and wring from
them secrets, there was not furnished a terrible demonstration of the disruption which sin hath made between
man and holiness-but indeed there is another scene which
is yet more affecting in its testimony-not the cave of the
sorceress, but the Temple of Jehovah-that Temple, not
crowded with wild figures, that have risen beneath the
circlings of the wand of the magician, and not echoing
the muttered spells of necromancy; but filled with the
train of the Lord, and resounding with the melodies of
angels; and Isaiah, in the midst of the gorgeous manifestation-Isaiah, chosen of God as the Prophet to his people
-Isaiah, smiting on his breast, like one in utter despair,
exclaiming, " Woe is me, for I am undone," though, all the
while, according to our text, it is Christ, the Redeemer, of
whom he beholds the glory, and Christ, the Redeemer, of
whom he speaks.




174                ISAIAH'S VISION.              [LECT.
But we have not yet touched on the reasons which
Isaiah gives for being sorely confounded at beholding the
glories of Christ. We have only considered the general
truth, that a manifestation of the Divine glory will always
be overwhelming to men in their present condition, and
we have used this truth as a testimony to the depravity
and alienation of our nature.  It must be observed,
however, that it was o.n a special account that Isaiah
pronounced himself "undone," and this special account
must not be passed;over without examination. "I am
a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a
people of unclean lips; for mine eyes have seen the King,
the Lord of Hosts."  Himself a man of unclean lips, how
was he to speak, as he ought to speak, in the'name of
that Being in whose presence he stood, and.whose purities
were so dazzling as to be fearful? The people, moreover,
amongst whom he was to minister, were a people of unclean lips: he was sent to require from them that they
should worship God in spirit and in truth; but how were
they to obey with tongues so defiled?  Thus it would
seem'that, in looking on the glories of God, Isaiah became
penetrated with the sense of having unworthily borne the
office of Prophet: never before had he felt, as now that the
Lord discovered his Majesty, what awful and ill-performed
duties were his-he a Prophet of unclean lips, and ministering amongst a people of unclean lips.  It was the
glory of the Lord which threw light upon this: he had
never seen his sin in all its enormity till he saw it irradiated by the shinings of God's presence.
And, my brethren, if you will consider for a moment,
you will have little difficulty in understanding why the




IX.]               ISAIAH'S VISION.               175
sight of the King, the Lord of Hosts, should have moved
Isaiah to so piteous an exclamation. It is the effect which
a manifestation of the Divine purity must produce in
every one who endeavours to act up to his vows as a
minister of Christ. Whilst he is actually engaged in the
business of his calling, plying the ungodly with the threatenings of the Word, and striving to build up the righteous
in the faith of the Redeemer, it is possible enough that he
may see but little with which to reproach himself: he cannot, indeed, fail to be conscious that he comes far short of
what a pastor should be-but to come short is human;
and, with all his defects, he is perhaps proposed as a pattern by his fellow-labourers in the ministry. The mere
excitement and bustle of duty will perhaps do much
towards preventing his discovering his manifold imperfections; and even when he sets himself patiently to the hard
work of self-examination, there are so many cross-lights,
the medium through which every thing is viewed is so
deceitful and distorting, that he will be almost sure to err
in his conclusions: he cannot think too meanly of himself,
but alas, alas, how easy not to think meanly enough.
But, oh, if he had but one glimpse of the glories of
Heaven; if, for one moment, he were environed with the
splendours of that Being, who "clothed Himself with
light as with a garment," and whose " eyes are as a flame
of fire;" what confusion of face, what self-abasement, what
terror must ensue! Have I dared to speak in the name
of a God thus awfully resplendent?  I, who am myself
shapen ill iniquity, and who cannot abide the searchings
of this terrible brightness-have I presumed to teach
others, wicked, depraved as myself, how to worship and




176               ISAIAH'S VISION              [LECT.
serve so fearful, because so holy, a Being? indeed, indeed,
upon earth, whilst I knew God only by the ear, I appeared
earnest, devout, faithful; but in Heaven, now that mine
eye seeth Him, I am worse than an unprofitable servant: I
seem to have placed myself before an altar, the fire kindled upon which must consume the polluted creature who
has ventured to draw near, and undertake so tremendous
an office. Yes, my brethren, it could not be but that a
sight of the Lord upon his throne, with the seraphim
standing round him in their brightness, would force the
most sincere and diligent of pastors to break into such an
exclamation as that of Isaiah. It is not necessarily that
he can accuse himself of actual inattention to the duties
of his calling. It is not that he can say that he has failed
to warn, with all fidelity, the hardened transgressor, or
that he has kept back the rich promises which God, in his
graciousness, has breathed to the repentant. But it is,
that, habituated to human standards, and earthly measures,
he has but dim conceptions of the burning majesty of the
Being whose messages he has undertaken to deliver. In
proportion as those conceptions are strengthened and
cleared, he will necessarily be more and more struck with
his own unfitness for so high a ministration, and more and
more conscious that it has been so discharged as to entail
upon him, in justice, nothing but wrath. Give him, then,
the conceptions which an actual view of Heaven would
generate, and who shall tell us how overwhelming will be
his sense of deficiency and danger?
I may stand here now, and publish the everlasting
Gospel, offering in the name of Him who died upon Calvary, pardon to every sinner who will confess and forsake




IX.]                ISAIAH'S VISION.              177
sin. And whilst there are none around me-none, that is,
visibly —but creatures of the same race and sinfulness with
myself, there may be in me all the aspect of faithfulness
and zeal; I may, perhaps, feel, whilst I throw all mine
earnestness into an energetic remonstrance and appeal, as
though I had no cause for self-reproach, but must, at all
events, be clear from the blood of those whom I have
been commissioned to address. But imagine the preacher
arrested in the midst of his discourse by such a manifestation as was vouchsafed to the Prophet-the sanctuary becoming mysteriously illuminated; the Redeemer displaying
Himself, not as the Man of Sorrows, but in all the radiance
which He wears at the right hand of the Father; the
angelic hosts dazzlingly beautiful, yet showing how unworthy is the highest of creatures to do service to God,
by veiling their faces with their wings-and I am sure
that the preacher would be instantly struck dumb —not
merely, and not mainly, because a supernatural exhibition
will always produce terror; but because that exhibition,
being one of the glories of the Mediator, must equally be
one of the infirmities, the deficiencies, the transgressions,
of his ministers; and the preacher, if he found a tongue
at all, would find it only to exclaim, "Woe is me! for I
am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I
dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips"-thus
taking as his own the very things which Esaias said, when
he saw Christ's " glory, and spake of Him."
But now let us consider the symbolical action of which
the Prophet was made the subject, and the comforting
words with which he was addressed.  He had, you observe, confessed his sin, and that too in terms which suffl.
12




178                ISATAH'S VISION.              [LECT
ciently showed that the heart went along with the lip in
the touching acknowledgment. And though there had
not then been the full revelation of the plan devised by
God for human forgiveness, the connexion between confession and pardon had all along been declared; so that,
under the Jewish dispensation, as well as under the Christian, to acknowledge iniquity was to have interest in
promises which pledged its remission. It was, therefore,
in consistence with the general course of Divine dealings,
that the Prophet's confession should be followed by an
assurance of the Almighty's forgiveness. It was further,
a sort of anticipation, or revelation of the privileges belonging to believers in Christ, that one of the seraphim
should be employed in conveying to Isaiah the assurance
of pardon: we know  that angels are "all ministering
spirits, sent forth to minister unto them that shall be heirs
of salvation;" and it might have helped to teach the
Prophet this comforting truth, that there came a messenger from that burning throng, on which he had hardly
dared to look, to tell him that his iniquity was taken
away.
But with what was the seraph armed? through what
instrumentality did the glorious spirit convey, as it were,
pardon to the terrified Prophet?  You read that the
seraph had " a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with
the tongs from off the altar:" with this coal he touched
the lips whose uncleanness Isaiah had bewailed; and,
having done this, he pronounced that the sin, committed
or confessed, was now also purged. And we are evidently
to understand that the purifying virtue was in this live
coal: the action was not only symbolical or significative;




IX.]               ISATIAH'S VISION.              179
it was operative and efficacious; for the angel makes the
taking away of iniquity to follow on the application of the
coal, just as an effect follows on a cause-" Lo, this hath
touched thy lips, and thine iniquity is taken away, and
thy sin purged."
But what was there, what could there be, in a coal
taken from the altar of burnt-offering at the entrance to
the Temple, to make it prevalent to the forgiveness of the
Prophet's transgression? The altar, indeed, was that on
which the fire, divinely kindled at the first, blazed perpetually, as though to image the inextinguishable lustres of
God: but how could sin be pardoned through the mere
application of fire, though celestial in origin, and burning
night and day as burn the seraphim that stand before the
Lord?  We need hardly observe to you, that there could
have been no virtue naturally in the coal; that the whole
virtue must have been derived from  some fire, or some
burnt-offering, to which the coal bore a typical relation.
And no one living in Christian times, and blessed with
Christian privileges, can doubt for a moment what this
typical relation was. We have already shown you, from
our text, that the vision was a vision of Christ; that the
Lord on Whom the Prophet gazed, " sitting upon a throne
high and lifted up," was none other than the second Person in the Trinity, Who had covenanted, that in the fullness of time He would assume our nature, and take away
sin by the sacrifice of Himself. And if this were a vision
of Christ in his glory, rather than of Christ in his humiliation, a vision more fitted to instruct Isaiah as to the exaltation of the Mediator, than to show him how He would be
the " propitiation for our sins," you are yet to observe that




180                 ISAIAH'S VISION.               [LECT.
the scenery of the vision was laid in the Temple, that
Temple, all whose furniture, and whose every rite, was
emblematical of the suretyship and the oblation of Christ.
The fire was still burning on the altar, though the Lord
was on his throne, clad in that glory which was to be
gained through extinguishing the sacrificial flames, extinguishing them  by the one oblation of Himself.  And
therefore might it justly be said that the Temple, thus lit
up, and thus crowded with brilliant forms, presented to
the Prophet a complete parable of Redemption: from the
altar of burnt-offering, whose fires went not out though
celestial shinings flooded the Sanctuary, might he learn
that the Divinity, in the person of the Mediator, would
not rescue the humanity from the flames of God's wrath
against sin: from the throne, with all the attendant gorgeousness, might he be instructed, that when the work of
suffering was complete, there would be given to the
Saviour " a name above every name," and that Saviour
should sit "in heavenly places," "the Head over all things
to the Church."
O blessed and comforting truth, that, in his office of
Intercessor, Christ still preserves the character of a sacrifice. Well for us, that the train of his glory, whilst filling
the Temple, leaves the flame still brighlt upon the brazen
altar.  Continually offending, we needt  a propitiation continually offered: and verily we have it, forasmuch as,
though crucified but once, and the one death sufficing for
the life of the world, Christ Jesus appears in heavenly
places "a Lamb as it had been slain," and intercedes on
our behalf by pleading the merits of the blood shed on
Calvary. There needed nothing beyond the mere touch




Ix.]               ISAIAH'S VISION.                181
ing of the lips of the Prophet —those who, when Christ
was upon earth, touched even the hem of his garment,
were immediately made whole of whatsoever disease they
had; and now that Christ is in Heaven, they who believe
upon his Name, and by that belief bring themselves, as it
were, into contact with his sacrifice, obtain at once the
remission of sins, and may hear celestial voices assuring
them of pardon.
But then it is as a " live coal" that Christ acts, when
apprehended and appropriated by faith.  He was to " baptize with the Holy Ghost and with fire." The spirit of
burning is in the communications of Himself-a spirit to
consume our dross, to refine us even as silver is refined,
that we may be a worthy offering to his Father in Heaven.
He was verily the " live coal," in that He was ardent with
zeal for God, and with love for man; in that He was
jealous for both, with a jealousy such as we read of in the
Book of the Canticles, " the coals thereof are coals of fire,
which hath a most vehement flame."  But He is still the'live coal," wheresoever He is the Saviour.  He will, He
must, burn out the corruptions of our nature, where He
sets the seal of forgiveness. That seal is a thing of fire:
the impress which it leaves is an impress of purity; but
purity is to be wrought in creatures like ourselves, only
through cauterizing processes; and, therefore, think not to
be stamped as pardoned, except as sanctified through
flame. Never yet has the seraph been commissioned to
fly towards you with an assurance of forgiveness, if you
have not found in religion a purifying energy, if the word
of the Lord have never been to you, what it is called in
the Prophecies of Jeremiah, "a fire," a fire to burn up the




182               ISA1AH'S VISION.             [LECT
chaff and the stubble; if the Redeemer's death have not
been felt by you as a prevalent motive to the mortifying
the flesh; if you have not been constrained, by his sacrifice, to present yourselves living sacrifices unto God. But
if indeed you can feel that a sanctifying work is going on
within you; that, as though some devouring energy had
been mysteriously introduced, and were powerfully, though
painfully, eating away the pride, and the malice, and the
lustfulness of nature, you are daily becoming more and
more fitted for the habitation of a God who cannot dwell
with iniquity-then it may never have happened to you
to behold the Lord upon his throne; never may you have
been surrounded with manifestations of heavenly glory;
never may you have seen one of those bright and beautifiul
creatures, "the ministers of God that do his pleasure,"
hastening towards you with the means and tokens of forgiveness-but be of good cheer; the live coal has touched
you, otherwise never would there have been these signs of
spiritual renewal; and the man, who is growing in holiness, has to the full as much evidence of his pardon, as
though the winged seraph had flown towards him with the
live coal from the altar, and pronounced audibly the animating words, " Lo, this hath touched thy lips, and thine
iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged"-even as was
done to the Prophet, when, in the language of our text,
Esaias saw Christ's glory, and spake of Him to the Jews.
But we must recur to that portion of our discourse in
rwhich we dwelt on a manifestation of Divine glory, as
adapted to produce in us confusion and dread; for there is
an important practical lesson derivable from this fact, on
which we did not touch, but which ought not to be over



IX.]               ISAIAH'S VISION.               183
looked. You can hardly be unaware, that, when inspired'writers would animate Christians to diligence in their calling, they dwell especially on the second advent of Christ,
overlooking, as it were, the grave, and directing thought
to the Resurrection, rather than to death. When anxious
to urge men to the forsaking of iniquity, or the running
with patience the race set before them, they do not so
much remind them of their possible nearness to the grave,
or of the certainty, that, ere many years have elapsed,
they must depart out of life-they rather bid them anticipate the day of wonder and of terror, when the Lord
Jesus shall be revealed in flaming fire from Heaven, when
"He shall come to be glorified in his saints, and admired
in all them that believe."
And there is nothing in this conduct of the inspired
writers, but what may be explained and vindicated upon
principles, of whose accuracy you are all competent judges.
There is certainly very little effect wrought by the most
touching delineations of the uncertainty of life. For the
moment indeed the effect is apparently great: a kind of
painful spell is thrown over an audience, and the most indifferent amongst them seemed awed into attention, when
the preacher makes appeal to the shroud and the coffin,
and, asserting the progress of some desolating sickness,
and the frequency of funerals which darken the streets,
entreats men to give heed to religion, on the principle that
probably death is almost at their doors. But, whatever
the aspect of attention which allusions to sickness and the
grave will produce in assemblies, there is commonly made
but little permanent impression; and therefore it is not
upon death that inspired writers dwell, when seeking to




184               ISAIAH'S VISION.             [LECT,
produce moral vigilance and endeavour. They strive tc
bring men to contemplate the day, not when they shall be
stretched on the bed of languishing, or bound up for
burial, but when they shall stand before the Son of man
in his glory, and have every secret exposed by the brightness of his presence. And this is wise, seeing that it is
the view of the glory of God which excites in Isaiah the
consciousness of his own sinfulness, and of the wrath
thence deserved.
I do not, therefore, ask you to go with me to the
churchyard, that there, amid the graves of all ages and
ranks, you may learn how frail you are, and study the
necessity of preparing to meet God. But I would have
you go with me in thought to the tremendous scene of
judgment. And you are not to regard yourselves as mere
spectators of the mighty assize: you form part of that
interminable throng which presses forward to the bar:
every one of you is there; and in the awful volume which
stands before the Judge, is registered indelibly every sin
committed during residence on earth. What think you of
your condition? What think you of your prospect of
acquittal? You may have been wont to compare yourselves with others; and because the comparison seemed to
tell in your favour, you may have hoped for acceptance
with the Judge of quick and dead. Where is the hope
now? As you behold the dazzling purities of this Judge,
do you feel that He will be content with any such virtues
as you once were able to regard with complacency? You
may have imagined that much would pass unobserved,
that, occupied with ordering all the affairs of immensity,
God would not note the every action of creatures insigni



IX.]               ISAIAH'S VISION.             185
ficant as yourselves! Where is the delusion now?  Can
it endure before that eye, the lightest glance of which is
piercing with Omniscience? do you feel as if there might
be concealment, now that the Universe is lit up by the
brightness of the countenance of the Judge? You may
have supposed that God would not make good his threatenings, that he would be more compassionate than his
word had announced, allowing sinners to escape from the
penalties, who had here lived in despite to the precepts,
of his law. Where is the supposition now? Holds it
good amid all this tremendous heraldry of wrath? or, as
you look upon the Lord, and mark the prints of the
wounds inflicted because of God's utter determination of
punishing sin, do you feel that there is a likelihood of
uncovenanted mercy, of the Divine word being broken
that you may be delivered?
No, no-if you were before the throne, if the glory,
the burning glory, of the Judge encompassed you, if the
ten thousand times ten thousand ministering spirits, that
shall attend the Son of man, were glancing to and fro,
ready not only to gather the wheat into the garner, but to
bind the tares in bundles for the burning, all self-deceit
would be at an end, all hypocrisy self-exposed, all false
confidence overthrown; and if you had not made covenant with the Judge as your Mediator, the piercing cry of
each of you would be, "Woe is me, for I am undone;
mine eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Hosts." And
therefore would we be earnest in directing your thoughts
to Christ's second Advent, rather than to death. Meditate
much on the Advent; and in proportion as you anticipate
the spectacle of the Lord upon his throne, high and lifted




186                ISAIAH'S VISION.             [LECT.
up, you will be likely, with Isaiah, to feel your uncleanness, and, confessing it, to obtain its being taken away.
Oh, that we might all seek to be reconciled unto God,
whilst it is yet the fire which purifies, not that which consumes, which burns upon the altar. Whilst seraphim are
yet ministering spirits, whilst we have not yet armed
against ourselves the whole company of unfallen angels,
let us turn unto the Lord with full purpose of heart. There
is no reason why any amongst us should treasure up
wrath against the day of wrath. Though there be such a
thing as judicial blindness-for it was of this, that, according to our text, Esaias spake when he had seen the wondrous vision-" He hath blinded their eyes, and hardened
their heart; that they should not see with their eyes, and
understand with their heart, and be converted, and I
should heal them"-O fearful fate, when in just judgment
for protracted impenitence, God gives men up, and withdraws from them his Spirit-still we have no cause to
believe this of any of you. The throne of Judgment is
not yet ascended: the coal in the seraph's hand is that
which purges away our dross: Oh, God is indeed a consuming fire; but let us fall before the cross of his Son,
"the Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the
world," and we shall only be refined, "made meet for the
inheritance of the saints in light."




LECTURE X.
9t. 2unu the 3)qtft.
NUMB. Xi. 29.
SAnd Moses said unto him, Enviest thou for my sake? would God that all the Lord's
people were prophets, and that the Lord would put his spirit upon them I"
WVIIEN the great lawgiver Moses found the management of
the whole congregation of Israel a burden heavier than he
could bear, he was directed by God to select seventy elders
of the people, and to bring them up with him to the
Tabernacle; God declaring that He would take of the
Spirit which was upon Moses, and put it on those elders,
that they might divide with him the charge of public
affairs. Seventy were accordingly selected; but two of
them remained, probably through some accident, in the
camp, whilst the others set themselves round about the
Tabernacle. The Spirit of the Lord came down according
to promise; but it fell, not only on the sixty and eight who
were at the Tabernacle, but also on Eldad and Medad, the
two who had remained in the camp, so that all the seventy
simultaneously prophesied.
It seems to have been counted a very surprising thing
that men should prophesy in the camp; it would have been




188            ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.           [LECT.
nothing had Eldad and Medad prophesied in the Tabernacle; but such occurrences was not looked for elsewhere; and therefore we read, " There ran a young man,
and told Moses, and said, Eldad and Medad do prophesy
in the camp."  On hearing this, Joshua, the son of Nun,
the servant of Moses, immediately exclaimed, "My lord
Moses, forbid them."  And what feeling was foremost in
Joshua's mind, that he was so prompt in desiring that
Prophets might be forbidden to prophesy? Why, he
was jealous for the honour of Moses, whom he counted
supreme in the camp, whatever he might be in the Tabernacle. That men should prophesy in the camp, seemed
therefore to Joshua an invasion of the province of Moses.
Hence the sudden exclamation of Joshua-it was the exclamation of jealousy. That we do not wrong him in
putting this interpretation on his words, is evident from
the noble answer of Moses, an answer which at the same
time exhibited the magnanimity of the lawgiver, and
exposed the feelings which had dictated the speech of his
servant. You have the answer in our text, " And Moses
said unto him, Enviest thou for my sake? would God that
all the Lord's people were Prophets, and that the Lord
would put his Spirit upon them."  Moses had no share in
the narrow feeling which Joshua had displayed, the feeling
of envy and jealousy; he had no wish to engross to himself the distinctions of Heaven, but, on the contrary,
would have greatly rejoiced, had all the congregation been
richly endowed from above, though he himself might then
have ceased to be conspicuous in Israel. And we consider
that the lawgiver, when thus firmly reproving Joshua for
envying for his sake, was worthy of being intensely adz




X.]             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.           189
mired, and earnestly imitated; for that in thus showing
himself above all littleness of mind, content to be nothing,
so that God might be magnified, and his cause advanced,
he reached a point of moral heroism, ay, loftier than that
at which he had stood, when, in the exercise of superhuman power, he bade darkness cover the land of the
Egyptian, or the waters of the Red Sea divide before
Israel.
Now we are not about to expatiate at any length on
the magnanimity which was thus displayed by Moses.
5We have adduced the instance in order to show you how
direct a parallel may be found in the history of the forerunner of our Lord, John the Baptist, to whose commemoration the Church dedicates this day. So soon as our
Saviour had entered on his ministry, the great office of
John was virtually at an end. It appears however that he
still continued to baptize, and thus to prepare men for the
disclosures of that fuller Revelation with which Christ
was charged. In this way, the ministry of our Lord, and
that of his forerunner, were, for a while, discharged together, though, inasmuch as Christ worked miracles, and
John did not, there were quickly, as might have been
expected, more attendants on the preaching of the Redeemer, than on that of the Baptist. This appears to have
excited evil feelings in some of John's disciples, who, like
Joshua, jealous for the honour of their master, thought
that Jesus, by baptizing, entrenched on his province, and
unwarrantably drew away his followers. You see how
soon the spirit of partisanship showed itself in the Christian Church. No marvel if men afterwards said,' I am of
Paul, and I of Apollos;" no marvel if, in later times, men




190             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.           [LECTM
have lost sight of the perpetual ministry of the great
High Priest, in their zeal to exalt some favourite pastor;
since even the success of our Lord was viewed with jealousy by the disciples of John.
You read, "They came unto John, and said unto him,
Rabbi, He that was with thee beyond Jordan, to whom
thou barest witness, behold, the same baptizeth, and all
men come to Him." There is an implied censure upon
John, as though, by bearing witness in favour of Jesus, he
had unnecessarily exposed himself to the being thought
less of and forsaken. But the Baptist himself had no
share in these unholy and mean feelings. He immediately
answered and said, "A man can receive nothing except it
be given him from Heaven." His commission had proceeded from  God: its nature, extent, and duration, had
been settled by Divine appointment; was it then for him
to repine that nothing higher had been assigned? was it
not rather for him to be thankful that so much had been
vouchsafed? And however galling it might be to his followers thus to see their master eclipsed, to John himself
it was matter of great gladness, that He, whom he had
heralded, was drawing all men towards Him. His heart
was in his office; and nothing could rejoice him more than
to see that not in vain had he come as "the voice of one
crying in the wilderness;" but that public attention had
been excited, and was now fastening itself where he wished
it to centre. "He that hath the bride," he goes on to say,
"is the bridegroom."  It was not for me to draw round
me a Church: I am not He who is to bring sinners into a
close and endearing relationship to IIimself, giving Himself for them, and making them one, through mystic union




X.]              ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.            191
with Himself. " But the friend of the bridegroom, which
standeth and heareth him, rejoiceth greatly because of the
bridegroom's voice: this my joy therefore is fulfilled." As
though he had said to his envious followers, Think not that
it is any source of regret to me, that men are leaving my
discipleship, and flocking to that of Christ. I came not as
the bridegroom, but only as the bridegroom's friend, to
bid the bride prepare herself for the coming of her Lord.
What then can be matter of joy to me, if not to hear the
voice of the bridegroom, proving that I was not a false
messenger; and to see that the bride is ready to receive
Him, so that not in vain did I give notice of his approach?
"This my joy therefore is fulfilled;" the tidings which you
bring me satisfy my most ardent longings; and in place
of being depressed, I greatly exult.
And then the Baptist took occasion to assure his disciples, that what had moved their jealousy and displeasure
was but the beginning, the first display, of a growing
superiority to which no bounds could be set.  They were
not to imagine that there could be any alteration in the
relative positions of Jesus and John, or that John would
ever take that priority, which, in strange forgetfulness of
his own sayings, they seemed to wish him to possess; on
the contrary, he wished them distinctly to understand that
being only of the earth, a mere man like one of themselves, he must decline in importance, and at length shrink
altogether into insignificance.  Whereas Christ, as having
come from above, and therefore being above all, possessing a Divine nature as well as a human, and consequently
liable to no decay, would go on discharging his high ofice,
and enlarging his sway, according to the prediction of




192             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.           [LECT.
Isaiah, "Of the increase of his government and peace
there shall be no end, upon the throne of David and upon
his Kingdom." And all this, this gradual fading away of
himself, and this continued exaltation of Christ, the Baptist gathered into one powerful and comprehensive sentence, saying of our blessed Lord, "He must increase, but
I must decrease." And what we have to ask of you is,
whether he, who could thus correct the jealousy of his followers, who could show a perfect indifference in regard of
himself and his position, so that his Lord and Master might
but be honoured and exalted, did not display precisely the
same nobleness of mind as is indicated in our text? whether
the Baptist, whom the Church this day commemorates, did
not, in saying of Christ, " He must increase, but I must
decrease," rival Moses, the great type of the Redeemer
Himself, when he finely exclaimed, "Enviest thou, for
my sake? would God that all the Lord's people were
Prophets, and that the Lord would put his Spirit upon
them?$"
But now let us consider more distinctly how character
was here put to the proof, or in what it was that either
Moses or John deserve imitation. The truth is, that it is
natural to all of us to envy the growing reputation of
others, and to be jealous when it seems likely to trench
on our own. %We may speak, and very justly, of the littleness of mind which is displayed by the envious and jealous;
but nevertheless this littleness of mind belongs naturally
to most, if not all of us; and he wins a fine triumph, or
displays great command over himself, who can be content
with inferiority, provided the cause of God and of truth
be advanced. This is the precise case in which both




X.]             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.              193
Moses and John showed greatness of soul; and though it
be the case in which we have most reason to look for a
forgetfulness of self, experience shows that the expectation
is but too often disappointed. In other cases, we can
hardly wonder that men should be mortified by the superiority of their rivals, and that they should look with
dislike and bitterness upon those who eclipse them in the
respects in which they most wish to shine. The courtier
who has been long toiling to stand high in the favour of
his sovereign, and who perceives that a younger candidate,
who has but just entered the field, is fast outstripping
him, so that the probability is, that he will soon be widely
distanced,-we cannot marvel if he regard the youthful
competitor with irritated feelings, in place of generously
rejoicing in his rapid success. It would be a very fine
instance of magnanimity, if this courtier were to cede
gracefully the place to his rival, and to offer him, with
marks of sincerity which could not be mistaken, his congratulations on the having passed him in the race. But
we hardly look for such magnanimity-the occasion, if we
may venture to say so, scarcely warrants it-the whole
business is of so worldly, so ignoble a character, that the
high principles of religion can scarcely be supposed brought
into exercise; and yet the loftiness of spirit is such as these
principles alone can be considered adequate to produce or
sustain.
The case, however, is widely different when it is in the
service of God, and not of an earthly king, that the two
men engage. Here, by the very nature of the service, the
grand thing aimed at is the glory of God, and not personal
distinction or aggrandizement; and there is therefore
13




194             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.         FrLCT
ground for expecting, that if this glory be promoted, there
will be gladness of heart in all Christians, whoever the
agent who has been specially honoured. But, alas for the
infirmity of human nature, there is no room for questioning that even Christians can be jealous of each other, and
feel it a sore trial when they are distanced and eclipsed
in being instrumental in promoting Christianity. I can
imagine to myself a missionary settlement, where a devoted
servant of God has striven for many years with idolatry,
but has made but little way in winning Heathens to the
faith. Here and there he can point to a convert from
superstition; but, for the most part, he seems to have
laboured in vain; and he is often forced to exclaim with
the Prophet, " Whohath believed our report, and to whom
hath the arm of the Lord been revealed 2" And then
there arrives in that missionary settlement another and a
younger preacher of truth; and God has endowed him
with higher powers, and honours him with greater success;
so that there is a rapid demolition of the whole system of
Heathenism, savages renouncing by hordes ancestral superstition, forming themselves into peaceful communities, and
embracing with delight the religion of Christ. Now it is
very easy to say that the elder missionary ought to feel
nothing but exultation and thankfulness, as he marks the
glorious results which follow the labours of the younger.
The object which he had nearest his heart, was the conversion of Pagans; and what shall he do but rejoice in the
accomplishment of this object, though effected through the
instrumentality of another? And we do not say that the
elder missionary would have other feelings than those which
he is thus bound, by his own profession, to entertain. But,




X.]             ST. JOHN TIlE BAPTIST.          195
nevertheless, there will have been a great deal to try that
missionary: and we can hardly doubt, forasmuch as his
being a Christian will not have destroyed his being a man,
that his breast must have been the scene of no inconsiderable struggle, and that there must have been earnest prayer
and a vehement resistance to natural feelings, ere he could
bring himself to survey with complacency the distinguished
honour which God put on another.
WTe are far enough from regarding it as a matter of
course, that the veteran in the missionary work would feel
contented and pleased at seeing that work, which had gone
on slowly with himself, suddenly progressing with amazing
rapidity when undertaken by a younger labourer,-on the
contrary, arguing from the known tendencies of our nature,
we suppose that he must have had a hard battle with himself, before he could really rejoice in the sudden advance
of Christianity; and we should regard him, as having won,
through the assistance of Divine grace, a noble victory over
some of the strongest cravings of the heart, when he frankly bade the stripling God speed, and rejoiced as he saw
the idols falling prostrate before him.
And here we have very nearly the case of Moses and
John, though we will confine ourselves to that of John, as
brought before us by the services of the day. You are to
remember that John had filled a most distinguished place
as the forerunner of Christ. Prophets had spoken of him
long ages back; an angel had announced his birth; and
miracle, suspended for centuries, had again been wrought
to fix attention on the child. And when he had grown up,
and entered on his ministry, the whole nation of the Jews
was agitated by his preaching, so that multitudes of every




196             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.           [LECT.
class flocked to him in the wilderness, " and were baptized,
of him in Jordan, confessing their sins."  Was it nothing
to John, regarded as a man of like passions with ourselves,
to become of no importance, after having occupied so eminent a station? or would it have cost one of us no great
effort, if called to such a post as had been assigned to the
Baptist, to shrink into comparative privacy, and leave the
scene clear for one mightier than himself? There is no
better way of estimating a display of magnanimity than
by making the circumstances as much as possible our own,
and then examining what effort it would require to imitate
the conduct which we cannot but admire. And if we have
not overstated the case of the missionary, we may safely
declare that any one of ourselves would find few trials
harder than that of seeing himself wholly eclipsed; and
that he might bring himself with less difficulty to almost
any duty, rather than to that of rejoicing that another
was made useful whilst he was passed by.
Never then, as we said of Moses, never was the Baptist
more glorious, never did he more exhibit greatness of soul,
than when he not only disclaimed all share in the petty
jealousy shown by his followers, but proved that he
exulted in being nothing in comparison of Christ. In the
absence of all feeling of rivalry or disappointmlent; in the
thorough willingness to be just what God pleased, eminent
or forgotten, according as his purposes might require; in
the honest joy that One greater than himself had assumed
the office of a teacher of the people,-in these have we
finer proof than in all the rest of his history, that the
Baptist had subdued himself, and thus gained the hardest,
as well as the most important, of all moral victories. And




X.]             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.             197
I can admire John the Baptist, as he lives a severe life in
the desert, "his raiment of camel's hair, and a leathern
girdle about his loins," mortifying the flesh, and thus exhibiting to others that rigid self-denial which he enjoined
as a preacher of repentance. I can admire him, as he
boldly reproves vice in the great, daring even the terrors
of a prison, rather than leave unrebuked the crimes of the
profligate Herod. But, oh! never does he appear to me
so transcendently great, never so free from the dross of
human passion and infirmity, as when I see him surrounded by his followers, who have come, with jealous and
angry feelings, to tell him how the world was flocking
after Jesus, and hear him exclaiming, in a fine burst of
pleasure and of gratitude, "He must increase, but I must
decrease;" thus emulating the great lawgiver of Israel,
who was not so noble, when he showed mastery over the
proud enemies of his people, as when he showed mastery
over himself, saying to Joshua, jealous that others should
share his great gifts, " Enviest thou for my sake? would
God that all the' Lord's people were Prophets, and that
the Lord would put his Spirit upon them."
But now having thus shown you how admirable was
the Baptist in thus copying the lawgiver Moses, we would
speak on the peculiar appropriateness of his being, though
the forerunner of Christ, compared with Moses, inasmuch
as John belonged strictly neither to the legal nor the
Christian dispensation, but stood between the two. The
time was not come for the full manifestation of God's
purpose of mercy; and therefore, though the Baptist
might urge to the abandoning vice, and the following
after righteousness, he could not wield those weapons




198             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.         [LECT,
which are "mighty through God to the casting down of
strong-holds:" he could not animate by the promises of the
Gospel, nor show, by pointing to the cross, how all the
terrors of Hell could be poured upon sin, whilst all the
glories of Heaven were opened to sinners. And probably
this peculiarity of his position, as standing between Moses
and Christ, may have had to do with the words which he
employed, when so beautifully imitating the one, and doing
homage to the other. He well knew that he had not
taught the great truths which were to be revealed under
the new dispensation. He well knew that his baptism
had been but introductory; that the mortification of the
flesh, and the performance of moral duties to which he
had urged, could not secure men from the wrath denounced against their sins; and that, consequently, unless
he were to be followed by one charged with a clearer
Revelation of mercy, his mission would be fruitless, and
leave the world where it found it, under sentence of death.
And therefore was it far enough from his wish, that he
should not be displaced, and surpassed in the office of a
teacher from God. It would have been no pleasure to
him to know, that he had communicated all the intelligence which God intended to give, in regard of his purposes towards our fallen race; and that He, whom he had
been sent to announce, would teach no higher lessons, and
unfold no better hopes. On the contrary, it was his gladness to feel that his own ministrations were but as the
twilight which is lost in the full blaze of day, and that,
when the Sun of righteousness, to whom he had served as
the morning star, should pour his rich beams on the world,
he himself must decline, and at length vanish out of




X.]             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.           199
sight. Could it then have been with any emotion of
regret that he received the intelligence brought him by
his disciples, intelligence that Jesus was gathering multitudes around Him, amazing them by his miracles, and not
less by his doctrines? It was only that for which he had
longed, that which was required to prove his own commission Divine, and to make it of any worth. What, he
seems to say to his followers, are ye indeed envious for
my sake? would ye have had me unsurpassed in the office
of a teacher? Think ye that the baptism with which I
have baptized, and the repentance which I have preached,
are sufficient for the moral wants of a world lying in
wickedness?  The austerities which, by my practice, I
have recommended; the duties which, by my teaching, I
have inculcated-think ye that these alone will avert
wrath, and save a soul from death?  No, these must
depart: these, like the shadows and ceremonies of the
law, must be swept away, as preparatory indeed, and quite
important in their place, but, nevertheless, insufficient, and
therefore only temporary.  My theological system  has
been imperfect: it has wanted explicitness on the points
most important to the weak and the sinful; and what then
can await it but the being forgotten and set aside, when
God shall speak to the world by the mouth of his Son?
I behold-thus it is St. John seems to speak-the
progress of the Gospel: I mark, with prophetic eye, the
rolling away of all that has been preliminary: the sacrificial rites of the Temple are abolished: the penance and
the fasting, these are pronounced ineffectual: and every
doctrine gives place to that of which Christ Jesus shall be
at once the teacher and the theme. I behold this doctrine




200             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.            [LECT
abolishing the idols. I behold it purifying the heart, till,
at length, all other systems are destroyed, and the globe,
in its every department, worships the one God, through
the " one Mediator between God and man." Yes, this is
the vision which passes before me, as I direct my gaze to
future times, the vision of all that has been introductory
in the Divine dealings with man shrinking from the scene,
that the message of reconciliation, which Christ will publish, may pass throughout the world, every where opposing
falsehood, and every where at length triumphant. Prophets are silent; for "the spirit of prophecy is the testimony of Jesus;" and, Jesus having come, there is no need
of further witness. Types are abolished; they did but
prefigure Christ; and what purpose can they answer, when
He, whom they represented, hath shown Himself to the
world? And whilst the law and the Prophets thus resign
to Christ the office of teacher, whilst Moses and Elias bow
before Him, confessing their part fulfilled, and rejoicing
that a greater hath descended to reveal the invisible God
-am I to repine that my commission must terminate 2 am
I to think it matter of complaint that the forerunner, with
his imperfect theology, must give place to the Redeemer,
with his full, and glorious, and overwhleming tidings?
Yes, into such shape as this may we throw the Baptist's
answer to his envious disciples. Moses, far removed from
the promised Messiah, could only breathe a wish for a
general outpouring of God's Spirit on the Church. But
John, though only the forerunner of the Christ, caught
clearer views of the Gospel dispensation; he, therefore,
could speak triumphantly of the progress of Christianity,
as sweeping away all former dispensations, and could re



X.]             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.             201
press envy by the noble acknowledgment, " He must increase, but I must decrease," whilst Moses could only
breathe the earnest wish, "Would God that all the Lord's
people were Prophets, and that the Lord would put his
Spirit upon them."
But by setting apart this day for the commemoration
of John the Baptist, the Church designs to excite us to
imitation of one so illustrious in office, and so admirable in
character. Let us take then his acknowledgment as to
Christ, "He must increase, but I must decrease," and see
whether it ought not to express our own feelings, if we be
firm and sincere in the Christian religion. It can scarcely
be needful for us to tell you-and yet so prone are men to
forget elementary truth, that you may require to be reminded-that the Gospel is a system constructed on purpose to abase the sinner, and exalt the Saviour. The system may be declared based upon the truth, that we are not
sufficient of ourselves to think or do any thing as of ourselves; but that there have been fastened upon us, as the
entailments of our first parents' sin, a moral helplessness,
and a moral perversity, which must prevent our doing
aught which can be acceptable to God, and ensure our
doing much by which He will be sorely displeased.
And until a man is persuaded of this, the foundation
truth, as we may call it, of Christianity, there is no hope
of bringing him to close thankfully with the proffers of the
Gospel: he will see nothing of the beauty, and.feel nothing of the appropriateness of those proffers: like remedies
offered to a man who is not conscious of sickness, they will
appear of little worth, just because they do not meet any
felt want or exigence. Hence it is, that, in all our striv.




202             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.           [LECT
ings with the conscience, in all our endeavours to win over
the unconverted, whether we find them on sick beds, or in
the courts of the Lord's house, our great effort is given to
the inculcating the doctrine of human disability; for if
God enables us to bring a man to feel that he can do
nothing for himself, he will be just in the attitude to hear
with eagerness, and to receive with thankfulness, tidings
of a Mediator who has done every thing for him. And
thus it is virtually our endeavour to gain a cordial acknowledgment of the Baptist's confession: or rather, this
confession involves a principle for which we strive, at the
very outset, to procure admission into the theology of the
man, whom we long to see walking in a heavenward path.
We want to bring him to a consciousness, that he must
think little of himself, and highly of Christ; and we
should know that he had indeed passed the strait gate,
and entered on the narrow path, if there were even an incipient persuasion in his mind, that Christ must increase,
and that he must decrease.
Let each of you, who may be counting himself a converted man, bring his case to this criterion: let him examine, with all diligence and all faithfulness, whether it
is his experience, to seem less and less in his owne yes,
and to feel more and more the sufficiency of the Saviour.
It is appointed by God; nay, we might say, it results from
the very nature of the case-that the glories of Christ are
discerned.in the same degree as our own vileness and depravity. The more we feel how undeserving, how helpless
we are, the more shall we admire the exceeding love of
God, and cry out, in amazement as well as gratitude,
"What is man that thou art mindful of him, and the son




X.]             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.            203
of man that thou visitest him?" The more we perceive
the hatefulness of sin, and the immenseness of the wrath
which it provokes, the greater will be our sense of the
virtues of Christ's death, through which pardon has been
placed within reach. In proportion as we feel how utterly
unable we are to keep the law in a solitary tittle we shall
look with awe and veneration on one. " found in fashion as
a man," "who did no sin, neither was guile found in his
mouth." The greater our consciousness of a defilement,
which must unfit us for those pure mansions where God
displays his brightness, the more intense will be our estimate of those expiatory and sanctifying influences, through
which'we can be presented without spot or wrinkle, or
any such thing. Who knows the worth of the Mediator,
like he who feels, in every recess of his soul, that he has
destroyed himself, thrown himself to an immeasurable distance from God and from happiness, and that there he
must have eternally remained, had no Intercessor come to
"seek and save that which was lost?"
In short, to whom will Christ Jesus be so nearly " all in
all," as to the man who is most nearly emptied of self?
" He must increase, but I must decrease" —it is what every
true Christian will desire to be able to say, with more and
more of the gladness and confidence of the Baptist. " I
must decrease"-I must be more humbled under a sense
of sin; I must have yet lower thoughts of my own moral
powers, and deeper views of my vileness as an alien from
God. But " He must increase." The fulness which there
is in Christ must be more and more perceived: the sufficiency of his sacrifice, the cleansing power of his blood,
the prevalence of his intercession, these must be increas.




204             ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.            [LEeT
ingly recognised and confided in: though He cannot become greater in Himself, He must become greater in my
esteem; and with a warmer love, and a stronger faith,
must I daily proclaim Him  " Chief among ten thousand,
and altogether lovely."
And does there yet remain no other sense in which the
Baptist's words may be applied? are there no tongues but
our own on which they are appropriate? The words wrere
prophetic: they echoed, as we before said, the prediction
of Isaiah, "Of the increase of his government there shall
be no end."  And the whole of this creation seems to us
to catch the sentiment, and to be vocal with its utterance.
The sun, coming forth as a bridegroom from his chamber,
proclaims, " He must increase, but I must decrease"-these
Heavens are to be rolled up as a scroll; and the New Jerusalem is to have no need of the sun,'"for the glory of
God will lighten it, and the Lamb will be the light thereof." Moon and stars take up the proclamation: there is to
be no night in that city; and therefore must they wholly
vanish, quenched in the effulgence of Him who will for
ever scatter all darkness. And what sound is that which
comes rolling as from ten thousand times ten thousand
voices? It is the utterance of " every creature which is in
Heaven, and on the earth, and under the earth, and such
as are in the sea," pronouncing, " Worthy is the Lamb that
was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and
strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing."  Then all
orders of intelligence, Angel and Archangel, principality
and power, are bowing before the Mediator, extolling Him
whilst they abase themselves; and what then is that
mighty chorus which John the Evangelist heard, but the




X.]              ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.            205
echo of those words which John the Baptist uttered, "He
must increase, but we must decrease?"
Yes, King of kings, " thou must reign, until thou hast
put all enemies under thy feet." Every other dominion is
to decline, that the vision, vouchsafed to Daniel, may be
accomplished, and thy dominion be established as an everlasting dominion, thy royalty be extended over all the
creatures of God. Here indeed we are launched on an
ocean without a shore. There may be, throughout eternity,
fresh manifestations of Deity; and if every manifestation
add, as it must, to the dignity and lustre of Him, " in whom
dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily," we can
set no bounds to the increase of Christ. And though we
ourselves shall be ever on the advance, reaching successively greater heights in knowledge and in happiness, yet
may our Redeemer so exceed every creature in the growth
in all that is glorious, that every creature, when brought
into comparison with Him, shall seem to diminish, rather
than expand. Still therefore may it be, that, in the midst
of the unimagined progress or march of eternity, we shall
have to speak of ourselves as decreasing, and of Christ
alone as increasing. He will be continually separated from
us by such broader and broader districts of magnificence,
notwithstanding our own growing majesties, that we shall
continually think less and less of ourselves, and more and
more of Him. To extol Him will still be duty: but that
duty will be happiness; though we must die, and enter into
possession of the heavenly inheritance, before we can even
conjecture with what emotions, contemplating how Christ
outshines every creature, so that the most glorious veils his
face, we shall seize the golden harps, and sweep them to the




206              ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST.
strain, "He must increase, but we must decrease." The
Spirit of God can alone fit us for this blessedness-with
Moses, then, let us pray on behalf of others and ourselves,
"Would God that all the Lord's people were Prophets,
and that the Lord would put his Spirit upon them!"




LECTURE XI.
3ui{inug t~e numbs uf tfe 4f5r4do.
LUKE xi. 47, 48.
Woe unto you I for ye build the sepulchres of the Prophets, and your fathers killed
them. Truly ye bear witness that ye allow the deeds of your fathers; for they
indeed killed them, and ye build their sepulchres."
AND wherefore this woe?  Was it not rather commendable than blameworthy, that the Jews showed reverence
for the prophets whom their fathers had slain? They
seemed hereby but to testify that their fathers had done
wrong, that the Prophets were God's messengers, who
ought to have been differently received-what could there
be to condemn in this? Our fathers killed Ridley, and
Hooper, and Latimer, noble men, who were contending for
the faith once delivered to the saints. We erect a martyrs'
memorial: we build the sepulchres for these slain witnesses
for truth: and is it necessarily a woe which we hereby
incur? God forbid: we reproach indeed our fathers, we
publish their guilt, when we rear a stately pile in honour
of these martyred men: but if we love and reverence the
cause for which the blood was shed, we are doing, we may
believe, what is acceptable to God.




208            BUILDING THE TOMBS OF           [LECT.
But the Jews, whilst honouring the Prophets, and reproaching their fathers, were flattering themselves that
they could never have done the like: they said, as we
learn from St. Matthew, "If we had been in the days of
our fathers, we would not have been partakers with them
in the blood of the Prophets!" Wrould they not indeed?
were they not at the very moment thirsting for the blood
of Christ, and contriving his destruction?  Alas for the
fatal facility with which those who are quick in discerning
the faults of others, can blind themselves to their own! It
is amongst the most memorable of the sayings of our Lord,
" Why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's
eye, but considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye?"
The improving our own character, and therefore the correcting our own faults, should evidently be our chief
purpose or object; and the knowledge that we may be
keen-sighted as to the errors of others, and, all the while,
blind to our own, should produce circumspection and
inquisitiveness in respect of ourselves, making us cautious
as to the condemning a neighbour, or concluding that we
should act differently under similar circumstances.
Here was the fault of the Jews. They were the descendants of men who had persecuted and slain the Prophets
of God. But they themselves were ready to do the very
same: they were plotting the death of the greatest Prophet, the greatest in all the signs or evidences of a Prophet,
that had ever arisen in their land. And, nevertheless,
they could see well enough how wrong their fathers had
been, and could join in showing honour to the righteous
persons whom they had treated so ill: but it does not seem
to have struck them, that they were closely trending in




XI.]               THE PROPHETS.                 209
their steps, and were about to irmitate, or rather, far surpass, what they so loudly condemned. They reared the
gorgeous monument, and ostentatiously adorned the graves
of those who had lost their lives in the cause of God and
of truth-thus publicly evidencing their sense of the
innocence of the martyrs, and of the guiltiness of those
who had put them to death. Thus far there might have
been sincerity; their fathers had done foully; and though
it might not well become children to expose and upbraid
the faults of their ancestors, the flagitiousness was so great
that much might have been forgiven to a just and righteous indignation. But they went on to compare themselves with their fathers, and to argue from the comparison,
that, had it been in their days that the Prophets had arisen,
they would never have been treated in so injurious a
manner. Alas for their ignorance of themselves! they
were plotting to put a Prophet to death, whilst building
the tombs of those Prophets whom their fathers had slain.
But is there no lesson here for ourselves?  We, on our
part, are ready enough to condemn the Jews, wondering
at their blindness, and execrating their sin: but may we
not, like the Jews, be doing the very thing which we
denounce, so that, at one and the same moment, we both
copy and condemn? Let us not too hastily conclude that
there may be no parallel amongst ourselves to that which
we are so ready to wonder at and reprove: human nature
is always the same; and if the manifestations of its corruption be somewhat different at different times, you have
only to look a little below the surface, and you may find
the difference wholly superficial. Come then with us, that
we may search and see whether there be nothing in our
14




210            BUILDING THE TOMBS OF            [LECT.
own day of execrating in others the very sin which may
be charged on ourselves; whether, in short, whilst we are
the bitter enemies of Christ and his Apostles, we may not,
like the Jews, be flattering ourselves that we could never
have taken part in the cruel persecutions of earlier days,
and thus giving cause for the reproachful saying, " Truly
ye bear witness that ye allow the deeds of your fathers;
for they indeed killed them, and ye build their sepulchres."
Now, let us first fix attention on the singular fact, that
what is admired in the dead, may be execrated in the
living. There was no essential difference between the
preaching of Christ, which excited the fierce anger of the
Jews, and that of the Prophets which had similarly displeased and irritated their fathers. In both cases the
preaching was that of the necessity of repentance, and of
the certainty of vengeance, if not averted through the
forsaking of sin. And the Jews, in the time of our Lord,
could profess a high admiration of the preachers who had
pressed these truths on their fathers, though, all the while,
they were full of indignation against those who laboured to
press them on themselves. They reared the stately monument in honour of intrepid men, who had published, in a
former age, the very message and doctrine which they
were resolved at all hazards to silence in their own. And
thus did they honour the memory of the dead for the very
thing which made them hate and persecute the living —as
though God compelled justice to be done to the righteous,
and wrung from their adversaries a testimony in their
favour.
The same takes place in our own day and generation.
Call to mind the names of martyrs, and confessors, and




XI.]                THE PROPHETS.                211
preachers, who, whilst they lived, drew  on themselves
almost universal detestation, by their zeal in the publication of truth, and the exposure of error. Gather opinions
as to these martyrs, confessors, and preachers, and you will
obtain well nigh an unqualified verdict, pronouncing them
amongst the worthiest of men, ornaments to their own age,
and examples to every succeeding. Open a subscription
for some testimonial to their honour; and money will flow
in for the building their tombs and garnishing their sepulchres, just as though there were a general anxiety to evince
a sense of their worth, and of the injustice of their contemporaries. But now go on to examine what the principles were which these dead worthies upheld, what the
doctrines which they published, what the practices which
they denounced. And do you think you will find that
these principles are in general repute, these doctrines generally esteemed, these practices generally shunned? Oh,
not so. The principles are still those which excite opposition, the doctrines are disliked, the practices are cherished.
If you could bring up from the grave the minister whose
uncompromising discharge of his sacred office drew upon
him hatred and persecution, but to whom posterity gives
its approval; and if he werle to engage once more in the
duties of the ministry; do you suppose that he would be
generally esteemed and admired, even as though there bad
passed a great change over the spirit of the times, and
truth, which had been hateful, had now become acceptable? Not so; the opposition of the cross has not ceased:
it is neither local nor temporary: it may be less openly
shown at one time than at another: but the feeling of
dislike to the Gospel is the feeling of human nature, the




212            BUILDING THE TOMBS OF            [LEcT.
produce of the heart, and asking nothing but its corruption
in order to its growth. And the minister, whom we suppose to return to the scene of his labours, and whose
memory is so cherished and hallowed, would again have
opposition to encounter, opposition which, if it assumed
not as determined an attitude, would evidence as radical a
dislike as when some century back he had striven to impress truth on a scornful generation.
For you do not observe that it is yet the high road to
the approbation and affection of men, to tell them of their
faults, and to preach to them, that if they would be wise,
they must become fools. On the contrary, there is no
denying that the peculiar truths of the Gospel are heard
with dislike and aversion, and that he, who gives himself
to their full and unflinching publication, must lay his account for no small share of prejudice, misrepresentation,
and opposition. What right, then, can there be to think
that if the dead were brought back, the dead whose memories it may be the fashion to honour, and whose sepulchres
to adorn, they would receive a different treatment, and
find themselves listened to with approval, though that approval is withheld from those who are labouring to walk
in their steps? With human nature just what it was, and
the Gospel just what it was, I have no reason to suppose
that the persecution of the present day would not have
been the persecution of a former, and the persecution of a
former the persecution of the present, had the living been
the dead, and the dead the living. The man who now dislikes the truth, and who shows his dislike by contempt or
ridicule of the teachers of truth, would, for ally thing that
I can see to the contrary, have shown his dislike by




XI.]               THE PROPHETS.                 213
violence and injury, had he lived when such modes were
commonly resorted to by the supporters of error. The
dislike is the producing cause of opposition; and this being
the same, the only difference will be in the form which the
opposition assumes; and the form will be determined by
the habits and customs of the times. I can find no ground
whatever for thinking that the individual who is thoroughly
opposed to Evangelical doctrine, but who as thoroughly
repudiates the attempt to put it down by open persecution, would have had a word to say against the killing
men for their religion, had he lived when it was usual to
hurry the faithful to the stake and the scaffold. There is
no difference as to the actuating principle between him
and those who took a bloody course in order to rid themselves of tenets which they utterly disliked. And if the
actuating principle displayed itself, in the one instance, in
fierce cruelty, whilst, in the other, its only manifestations
are ridicule and contempt, the difference is to be ascribed
to an altered state of society, and to the general diffusion
of more tolerant sentiment, rather than to any such inherent difference in men as would forbid our supposing that
he who persecutes by a frown, might have persecuted with
the sword. Oh, let no one think that he could never have
joined with the men of an earlier day in resisting truth
by violence and bloodshed. If he resist truth now by
such modes as the temper of the age will permit, he has
the best possible reason for concluding, that, had he lived
when other and harsher modes were allowed, he would
equally have acted up to the spirit of the times. There is
quite sufficient evidence in the honour rendered to the
dead, but withheld from the living, to induce a persuasion




214            BUILDING THE TOMBS OF           [LECT.
that the tombs may be built, and the sepulchres gar.
nished, by those who would have joined in slaying their
occupants.
I want to know how it comes to pass, that there is so
great and general an admiration of martyrs, and confessors, and other bold champions of Protestantism, even
whilst the doctrines of Protestantism may be but little regarded. I want to know how it comes to pass, that the
names of men who, in their own day, were made " the offscouring of all things," are now held in universal respect,
though the tenets which they laboured to enforce, and the
enforcing of which exposed them to scorn, are as much as
ever the objects of a deep-rooted dislike. I should have
expected, from the veneration in which our martyrs are
held, that the principles which they died to maintain,
would be every where cherished with devoted affection.
I should have expected, from observing the justice which
posterity renders to faithful ministers, whose faithfulness
made them through life the victims of malice and contempt, that the pure unadulterated Gospel would be prized
as the best boon that God hath given to man. But the
expectation is disappointed: those who will venerate the
martyrs, may have no love for the truths which their martyrdom sealed; and many who hallow the memory of an
Evangelical teacher, may turn with loathing from simple
Evangelical doctrine.
And it is by the feelings entertained towards the things
taught, and not by those expressed towards the dead who
were their teachers, that we are to judge whether men
would have joined in persecuting the Prophets. I care
nothing for the stately mausoleum. I have no faith in




XI.]               THE PROPHETS.                215
the laboured panegyric.  I am  not to be persuaded,
because sculpture and painting may devote themselves to
the representing the magnanimous dead, or poetry consecrate its richest melodies to the story of their deeds and
their wrongs. If the truth, for which the dead died, be
not beloved by the living, there is no evidence that the
living would not have aided in their destruction. If the
doctrines which brought such obloquy on the departed
do not now secure respect for their faithful publishers
and upholders,'what are the encomiums passed on the
departed, but so many hypocritical sayings, which, if not
expressly designed to deceive, prove that those who utter
them are deceiving themselves?  And judge ye whether
when men are tried by their attachment to truth, and
their zeal in maintaining it, by the favour which its proclamation conciliates for the living, and not by the applause which it secures to the dead, they can be acquitted
of all likelihood that they would have joined in persecution, had they lived in the days when the righteous were
slain. Oh, we have in abundance the building'of the
tombs, and the garnishing of the sepulchres? But whose
tombs and whose sepulchres? The tombs of men who
laid down their lives in support of doctrines, which
are either secretly disliked, or openly denounced, by
the builders: the sepulchres of preachers who would
not keep back statements that are still sure to provoke
the enmity of the garnishers. And what then are we to
do but charge with hypocrisy, as Christ charged the Jews,
the men who, overlooking the evidence which their own
hearts might furnish, would condemn in others what they
only want temptation and opportunity to commit? what




216            BUILDING THE TOMBS OF           [LECT.
but address them in the language of our text, as we see
them honouring in the dead what they repudiate in the
living, "Woe unto you! ye build the sepulchres of the
Prophets, and your fathers killed them. Truly ye bear
witness that ye allow the deeds of your fathers; for they
indeed killed them, and ye build their sepulchres."
But we may identify our own case yet more closely
with that of the Jews. There is perhaps no more common
feeling than that of amazement and indignation at the
treatment which our Lord received from his countrymen.
If ever there moved upon the earth the being who seemed
likely to disarm all enmity, and attract towards himself
universal affection, that being, undoubtedly, was Jesus of
Nazareth. He had, so evidently, no object but that of
benefiting others, and he gave such evidences of ability to
compass this object, that we might have supposed that all
classes would have eagerly welcomed him as a Prophet
and deliverer. And the apparent improbability of the
rejection of Christ may easily. induce a persuasion that,
had we been in the days of the Jews, we could never have
shared in their crime. But how ought such passages as
our text to stagger us, showing us, as they do, that the
Jews equally flattered themselves that they were incapable
of the sin of putting a great Prophet to death. We make
no doubt, that, had we been contemporary with Christ,
had we beheld his miracles and listened to his preaching,
we should never have been of the number of those who
sought his destruction. But what is this persuasion but
the very persuasion of the Jews, who sat in judgment on
their fathers, as slayers of the Prophets, and determined
that they could never have joined them in their crime;




X.]               THE PROPHETS.                 21 
and this too at the moment when they thirsted for Christ's
blood, and bent themselves to compass his death? If
there were not our text in the Bible, I might almost have
thought that no other people but the Jews could have
perpetrated the deed from which the sun drew back, and
at which the earth trembled. But when I find that even
the Jews could fancy themselves unable to do as their
fathers had done, I look with apprehension on any verdict
of self-acquittal, and almost take it in evidence of a depravity adequate to the crime. It may be, that, as I look
on the Scribes and Pharisees plotting the destruction of
Jesus, I feel that I could never have joined the guilty
conclave, or that I should have joined it only to give my
protest against the desperate wickedness. It may be that,
as I beheld the infuriated multitude insulting the Redeemer, and demanding his crucifixion, I feel that I should
at least have shrunk away in horror, if I had not had the
courage to stand forward in defence of persecuted goodness. It may seem to me almost impossible that I should
have conspired against Christ, that I should have helped
to weave the crown of thorns, and to drive the nails into
his hands and his feet. But am I so unlike the Jew, is
there any such radical difference between myself and the
Jew, that I am warranted in believing that his wickedness
could never have been mine? Ah, there is at least one
point of similarity between us; and this ought to make
me fearful of hastily concluding that there cannot be
more. And what is this point? why, that the Jew and
myself are equally ready to plead too much goodness to
allow of joining in killing a Prophet. My way of judging
and declining was precisely his, the reference to a crime




218            BUILDING THE TOMBS OF           [LECT.
which others committed, and the determining against the
possibility of any participation.
And where there is the same assurance of inability to
perpetrate a sin, there is probably the same ability. Let
us trust to no verdict of acquittal which we may be disposed to pass on ourselves, after listening to that which
the murderers of Christ so complacently uttered. If I
wish to make out to you the possibility that, had you
lived in the days when Messiah was on earth, you would
have joined in heaping on him ignominy, and compassing
his death, it may be in vain, as I have already said, that I
lead you to the Hall of Judgment, and to Calvary, and
there show you the spotless Redeemer given up to the will
of his enemies. I well know with what indignation you
will repel the supposition that you could ever have taken
part in persecuting so benevolent and righteous a being.
Well, I will not argue with you, where there is so much to
stir the passions, and to make the blood boil. But I am
sure it ought to make you suspicious of your confidence,
and afraid that you vastly overrate your own virtue, when
can show you these very Jews repelling, with the same
indignation as yourselves, the supposition that they could
ever join in a deed of cruelty and wrong, pronouncing
with the same complacency as yourselves on the impossibility of their slaying the righteous. Ah, be bold if you
will, whilst you only hear the Jews exclaiming, " Crucify
him, crucify him," "not this man, but Barabbas;" but will
it not stagger you to look upon these Jews, engaged in
rearing costly memorials to the martyrs of another day,
engaged in this work as a sort of evidence that they abhorred the putting those martyrs to death, and could never




XI.]               THE PROPHETS.                 219
have taken part in so atrocious a deed, and thus drawing
on themselves the denunciation of our text, "Woe unto
you! truly ye bear witness that ye allow the deeds of
your fathers: for they indeed killed them, and ye build
their sepulchres?"
But even yet, we have not succeeded in giving to our
text that thorough personal application of which we
believe it susceptible. There is no more singular instance
on record than this of the Jews, of the power which there
is in men of deceiving themselves, of discerning clearly
enough the faults of another, whilst altogether blind to
those faults in themselves. But we wish to see whether
we may not transfer the whole passage to our own day and
generation, or assert the repetition amongst ourselves of
what was said or done by the profligate Jews. There is no
difficulty in tracing the parallel, if you keep out of sight
the hostility of the Jews to the greatest Prophet that the
world ever saw. The parallel is then established, if the
men of our own day be ready to build the tombs of the
Prophets, and boldly to maintain, that, had they lived
when blood was being shed, their hands should never have
been stained. And beyond question, they are ready
enough for this, if you put the Jews for the fathers, and
Christ for the slain Prophet. There is abundance of outward honour to the founders of Christianity, abundance of
what we may call the building the tomb, and the garnishing the sepulchre; and men have but little hesitation in
execrating the crime of the Jews, as a crime far outdoing
their own power of commission. So far therefore we may
safely take the text, and give it as descriptive of what
occurs amongst ourselves. But may we also denounce the




220            BUILDING THE TOMBS OF            [LECT.
woe which it contains? That woe is evidently denounced
on account of the hypocrisy of those whose actions are
described, on account of their conspiring against the living Christ, whilst joining to do honour to the murdered
Prophets.
And is there any thing parallel to this amongst ourselves? Indeed there is: for it is very easy to be indignant against those who put Jesus to death, and all the
while to overlook our own share in the guilty transaction.
It is very easy to give up to universal execration the
Roman and the Jew, and to be unmindful of the causes
which brought round the Crucifixion. It is very easy to
take the narrative of Christ's sufferings, just as you would
the narrative of some doleful occurrence that happened in
a remote age, and which has little more than its sadness to
give it interest with your feelings. But who slew  the
Lamb of God? who drove the nails? who reared the
cross 2 Not the Roman and the Jew. These were but
agents and instruments. Christ died for the sins of the
world: the sins of the world were really his murderers,
though they used the Roman and the Jew as his executioners. And no man regards the death of Christ under
a just point of view, who does not charge himself with a
share in the perpetration.  He who does not make himself
one of the murderers can scarcely have faith in the propitiation. It is easy to condemn the Jews for murdering
Christ, precisely as we condemn our own fathers for murdering Charles I. In both cases we may condemn, without
feeling that we had personally any thing to do with the
crime; and the condemnation may be the severer, from
the complacency with which we regard our own innocence.




XI.]               THE PROPHETS.                  221
But there is all the difference between the cases of the
Jews murdering Christ, and of our fathers murdering
Charles I. It is quite true that we are ourselves innocent
of the latter crime; but it is just as true that we are ourselves guilty of the former. And there is no safety for a
man until he become self-convicted of this guiltiness. I
must feel myself the shedder of the blood by which I am
cleansed, the slayer of the Mediator by whom I am saved.
He died for his murderers, and the benefits of his death
are available to those only who know  themselves his
murderers.  And, whilst men are pleasing themselves
with the thought that they could never have joined in
killing a Prophet, may they not be actually engaged in
hostility to Christ, yea, actually employed in effecting his
Crucifixion? If not, what means St. Paul when he speaks
of some who " crucify the Son of God afresh, and put Him
to an open shame?" what means Christ Himself, when
saying to the enemy of his Church, " Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?"  There may yet, there may now,' be
such a thing as piercing the Son of God, heaping on Him
ignominy, and nailing Him to the tree. It is virtually done
whenever, notwithstanding his amazing interference, and
the provision made at so incalculable a price for human
deliverance, men turn away from the Redeemer, refusing to
accept the mercy which He proffers, because they will not
quit the sins which He abhors. It is virtually done by
every wilful act of rebellion, by unbelief, by pride, by
hardness of heart, by resistance to the strivings of the
Spirit, by disobedience to the precepts of the Gospel.
The wilful transgressor does all which he can do towards
rendering necessary a second Crucifixion: he commits more




22)2            BUILDING THE TOMBS OF            [LECT.
and more of that which crucified Christ; and therefore, so
far as his own guiltiness is concerned, may literally be
charged with crucifying Him again.
And, over and above this, you are to consider that
Christ is continually coming to the impenitent and obdlurate, in and through the ordinances of religion, presenting
Himself to them as their Redeemer, and beseeching them
to receive Him, as they would hope to escape eternal de-,struction. But they treat Him with contempt. He calls,
but they refuse: He stretches out his hand, but they will
not regard. And what is all this, if not the repetition of
the Jewish denial and rejection of Christ?  If, in the exercise of my office as a minister of Christ, and speaking in
the name of Christ, I propose to the self-righteous that
they renounce their own righteousness as nothing worth,
and trust for their acceptance to the righteousness of the
Mediator; and if they proudly refuse, determining that
they will take the imperfect and polluted, in preference to
the glorious and spotless; I should like to know what this
practically is, if it be not the shouting with the Jews,
"Not this man, but Barabbas."  If again, in the exercise
of the same office, and speaking in the same name, I come
down upon the sensual and the profligate, and conjure
them that, without a moment's delay, they break loose
from practices which must issue in death, showing them the
Saviour, and entreating them not to persist in that which
he abhors; and if they turn away from the entreaty, anxious
only to get rid of the molestation, and to be left undisturbed
in their impiety —I should like to know what this practically is, if it be not the raising the cry, "Crucify him, crucify him!"' I say not, that, exalted as He is to a throne of




XI.]                THE PROPHETS.                 223
light, and invested with all power in Heaven and earth?
Christ can any longer be smitten and wounded as when, in
the days of his humiliation, He gave his back to the
smiters, and his cheeks to them that plucked off the hair.
But the question is not what Christ may yet feel; it is only
what man may yet do. There may be all the intention
and all the criminality on our part, whilst there is an incapacity of suffering upon his. So that under every point
of view, it is but a just, though a fearful accusation, that
which arraigns all wilful transgressors as crucifiers of
Christ. And nevertheless these wilful transgressors bear
the Christian name, and may even do much to advance the
Christian cause. Yes, whilst living in disobedience to
Christ, and therefore in the practical rejection of Him as
the deliverer from sin, there are numbers who will show
Him all outward respect, even helping to build churches,
and establish missions, that his Gospel may be spread far
and wide. Ah, then, have we not at last made out
thoroughly the parallel, and shown that our text may be
brought down without the change of a letter to our own
day and generation? "Woe unto you, hypocrites!" Woe
unto you, men who with no hatred of sin, and therefore no
love of Christ, call yourselves Christians, and even take
part in the promotion of Christianity! Ye are building
the tombs of the Prophets, ye are garnishing the sepulchres of the righteous. But ye are, all the while, of the
number of those -who are bent on the rejection and crucifixion of the Christ. Rear churches if you will, as the
Jews reared the stately mausoleum in honour of the dead
whom their fathers had slain. But know ye that, so long
as ye do not give the heart to the Saviour, ye crucify Him




224            BUILDING THE TOMBS OF             [LECT.
afresh, and must be ranked with his murderers. And you
may execrate the wickedness of the Jews: you may flatter
yourselves that you, for your part, could never have joined
in persecuting Christ, seeing that you are ready to bow at
his name, and to yield respect to his religion. But all this
only brings you more accurately under the woe of our
text; all this only identifies you more thoroughly with the
men who, whilst bent on the destruction of Christ, could
join in doing honour to the memory of the martyred dead,
and thus give cause for its being said of them, reproachfully and indignantly said, " Truly ye allow the deeds of
your fathers: for they indeed killed the Prophets, and ye
build their sepulchres."
Now there is yet another and an important point of
view under which, in conclusion, we wish to place our text.
The Jews may have believed and boasted themselves incapable of taking part in the killing a Prophet, little suspecting that they needed only the being placed in the
same circumstances as their fathers, in order to their imitating their crimes. And this is but the illustration of a
general truth, that, whilst men are not tempted to a sin,
they cannot judge whether or not they would commit it
if they were. With singular propriety are we instructed
to pray, " Lead us not into temptation;" for only temptation may be needed to our perpetrating the worst crimes
that disgrace human nature. They say that the earth contains varieties of seed: and that, according to concurrent
circumstances, is there one production at one time, and another at another. And this I am sure is the case with the
heart, "' out of which," according to Christ, " proceed evil
thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications, thefts, false wit



XI.]                THE PROPHETS.                 225
ness, blasphemies." The seeds of all these iniquities are
deposited in the heart; and a certain state, so to speak, of
the moral atmosphere, or a certain combination of exciting
causes, is all that is required to develop them in the practice.
It does therefore but argue great ignorance of ourselves, to suppose that this or that sin is too bad for us to
commit. And the persuasion that we could not commit
it, is but an evidence of the likelihood of our being
betrayed into the commission; for it shows a measure of
self-confidence, as well as of ignorance, which God may
be expected to punish by withdrawing his grace-and if
that be withdrawn, where -is human virtue? We are
bound, as believers in Revelation, to believe that nothing
of evil is beyond our power, and nothing of good within
it, if we be left to ourselves, and are not acted on by an
influence from  above.  And our only security against
becoming perpetrators of crimes, at whose very mention
we perhaps shudder, lies in such a consciousness of our
own depravity as leads to a prayerful, continual dependence on the preventing and restraining grace of God. "Is
thy servant a dog that he should do this?" was the exclamation of Hazael to the Prophet, when told of the crimes
which he would live to commit. He did not feel himself
bad. enough for the perpetration, and therefore was no
sooner on the throne than the perpetration came. If, on
the contrary, he had said, Thy servant is naturally bad
enough for this; but, whilst I distrust myself, I will look
up to God to withhold me from such crimes; it may be
that he would never have committed the atrocities which
now darken his name. The Jews could build the tombs
of the Prophets, and garnish the sepulchres of the right15




226     BUILDING THE TOMBS OF THE PROPHETS.   [LECT.
eous, proudly thinking, whilst they recorded the sin of
their fathers, that themselves were too pure to reject and
ill-use a messenger of God.  And therefore when the
messenger arose in their land, they did worse than their
fathers, and cast him out of the vineyard, and slew him.
It may be that if, on the contrary, whilst they reared the
monument, and pronounced a just judgment on their
ancestors, they had confessed the heart to be "deceitful
above all things and desperately wicked," and had added to
the confession prayer for strength against temptation, they
would never have been left to commit the vast enormity,
for which they yet labour under the malediction of Heaven.
Let us be warned, men and brethren, by instances like
these.`We have only to be confident in ourselves, and
there is no wickedness which we may not ultimately commit.
Remember David, and "let him that thinketh he standeth
take heed lest he fall." I do not say that we are not to
build the tombs of the Prophets.  I do not say, that is,
that we are not to mark our sense, and signify our abhorrence, of the sins of our fellow-men, whether our ancestors,
or our contemporaries. It was not in this that the Scribes
and the Pharisees were wrong: crime is to be reprobated,
and the more public the reprobation the better. But we
are to be careful that we do not acquit ourselves, whilst
condemning others. The sin was the sin of men; and what
men have done, men may do. Build then the tomb,
garnish the sepulchre: but, all the while, say, "0 Lord,
we have the same evil heart as our fathers: restrain thou
then us by the power of thy Spirit; otherwise shall we,
in like manner, bequeath to our children tombs to build
and sepulchres to garnish."




LECTURE XII.
gaaiffmatiaun Uf t   ae Fns nf 0n,
ROMANS viii. 19.
For the earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons
of God.
IN this and the following verses, St. Paul gives a remarkable description of the present state of the visible creation. He represents it as in the. agonies of travail, and as
intently expecting the manifestation of the sons of God.
The creature itself, he tells us, has been made subject to
vanity-referring, we may believe, to that universal prostitution of the works and gifts of God, which, in different
degrees, has subsisted ever since the fall. There is scarcely
the object, whether in the animate or the inanimate creation, which has not been abused by man to the purposes
of vanity. Indeed, whatsoever God hath made has been
worshipped as God; so that idolatry, which is emphatically vanity, has turned the universe into its storehouse
of deities. But there shall come an end to this subjection
of the creature; and, as though the material system were
conscious alike of its thraldom  and its deliverance, St.
Paul represents it as groaning, and yet anticipating a




228               MANIFESTATION OF              [LECT.
glorious emancipation. "The whole creation groaneth and
travaileth in pain together until now. The creature itself
also shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption
into the glorious liberty of the children of God."
We learn, from th.e bold imagery thus used by the
Apostle, that times of refreshing have to break on this
oppressed and disordered creation; and that, when righteousness shall receive its final and public approval, the
world itself will spring into liberty, and walk the heavens
in renovated beauty. It was the world, with all its
tenantry, that Christ redeemed from the bondage of corruption; though, as yet, there has been no open assertion
of a conquest which included whatever was affected by
human apostacy. Andi we are taught, by many portions
of Scripture, as well as by that which is now under notice,
that the application of Redemption shall be finally coextensive with the consequences of the fall, so that whatever withered beneath the curse will bloom again through
the influence of the Atonement. For a long season indeed
evil is permitted to retain its dominion; and therefore
may the creation be depicted as groaning and travailing in
pain.  But a day is determined, on which Christ will
appear to assert his victory, and exterminate pollution;
and therefore it is said that the creature is "subjected
in hope."
St. Paul then goes on to declare, that a sense of burden, not to be overcome by the certainty of deliverance,
was not confined to the inanimate, or irrational creation.
It was not merely the visible world, with its profaned and
misused productions, which groaned and heaved beneath
the pressure imposed by transgression. " Ourselves also,"




XII.]              THE SONS OF GOD.                229
saith the Apostle, " which have the first-ftuits of the Spirit,
even we ourselves groan within ourselves."  Was it to be
thought that the creation suffered thus acutely, because
there were no beginnings of relief, no foretastes of the yet
distant rest? Nay, argues the Apostle, we have the firstfi'uits of the Spirit, and yet take part with the creation in
signs of pain and distress. And thus the greatness of the
oppression is strikingly displayed-to know deliverance
certain, and yet to groan; to receive earnests of peace, and
still to be in agony. We forget the groans of the inanimate system, and of irrational or irreligious creatures, when
we hear those of believers in Christ. Shall not they who
feel themselves redeemed, who already enjoy the foretastes
of everlasting bless, be free from that suffering which
seems the heritage of the fallen? Shall not they, at least,
find such present gladness and rest, that they will not be
engaged, like the creatures around them, in longing for a
promised deliverance? The Apostle answers these questions decidedly in the negative. "Not only they, but
ourselves also, which have the first-fruits of the Spirit,
even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting for the
adoption, to wit, the redemption of our body." You will
observe what it was for which the true Christian waited
and longed-" the redemption of the body"-for this will
help us to understand "the manifestation of the sons of
God," which is mentioned in our text. They are evidently,
if not the same thing, yet things which should occur at the
same time: the redemption of the body, that is, its final
resurrection, is to constitute, or to occur with, the manifestation of the sons of God. The sons of God are to be
manifested, gloriously owned and displayed in the face of




230               MANIFESTATION OF               [LECT.
the universe, when the grave shall give up its deposit, and
soul and body be admitted into Heaven. Here will be a
point deserving very close attention-an interest, an importance, is attached to the resurrection of the body, which
may place that great article of our faith under a new point
of view. At the same time, you should carefully observe,
that, by pursuing the context of the passage on which we
discourse, we have found that " the earnest expectation of
the creature," an expectation wrhich is indicated by tokens
of agony and distress, is shared by true believers; for they
too are described as C" groaning within themselves." Let
us follow out the trains of thought which are hereby suggested-here is the whole creation, the true Christian as
well as every other being, groaning in pain: here is the
resurrection, or redemption, of the body represented as
the thing longed for in this universal distress: when we
have carefully looked into. all these facts, we may, by
God's help, understand something of the force of the
remarkable saying, "The earnest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God."
Now, we would first observe that no passages of Scripture can be more valuable to the Christian than those
which open to him the experience of the most eminent
saints. If he can prove that the conflicts in which he is
involved, and the sorrows by which he is oppressed, are
just those which engaged and weighed down God's people
of old, he has no right to think his own condition strange,
nor to use his experience as an argument against his security. There are many who distress themselves with sus.
picions that they are not true believers, because they feel
their love of God to be cold, and they are painfully con



XII.]             THE SONS OF GOD.                231
scious that corruption is still mighty within them. We do
not say that the languor of spiritual affections, and the
strength of indwelling sin, ought to be other than occasions
of grief and humiliation.  But no one can, on these accounts, be warranted in concluding himself an unrenewed
man, who remembers the pathetic exclamation of St. Paul,
" O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from
the body of this death? " If my grounds of complaint be
the same with those of an Apostle, they cannot, at the
most, be grounds of despair. And in this mainly lies the
worth of Christian biography. The registered experience
of men, whose piety admits not a question, may be compared with our own; and when we find that David, or
Paul, had to wrestle with an evil heart of unbelief, and
that they passed, like ourselves, through seasons of great
spiritual darkness and depression, we are taught that the
not being perfect is no proof of our not being safe; but
that there may be much to produce contrition, which yet
ought not to shake confidence. " Why art thou cast down,
O my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me?"-in
these words of the Psalmist, there is as much material of
comfort as in the triumphant exclamation, "The Lord is
my light and my salvation, whom then shall I fear? the
Lord is the strength of my life, of whom  shall I be
afraid?" It is a great thing to know that David felt disquietude of soul. It identifies him, as it were, with ourselves, and forbids our inferring danger from depression.
And we think the Book of Psalms most precious on this
very account-namely, that he who is mourning for sin,
and cast down under a sense of failures in duty, coldness
in love, and proneness to offend, may find therein words




232               MANIFESTATION OF               [LECT
which describe precisely his case and experience; and yet,
whilst he makes the words his own, feel sure that he, who
penned them, passed at death into glory.
We say nothing to excuse, or extenuate, the faults of
Christians. For our most dangerous fault is perhaps the
making light of our faults. But, certainly, when a man is
anxious in respect to the soul, when it is his earnest desire
to accept the salvation which is offered through Christ;
and when the reasons, which make him fear that he is not
a true believer, are drawn from deficiencies which he laments, and dispositions which he abhors; it is a legitimate
source of consolation, that men, who lived nearest to God,
had exactly the same reasons for suspecting their sincerity.
Had David always spoken exultingly and confidently, the
Psalms would have been disheartening writings, as proving
that their author knew nothing of spiritual anxieties. But
when we find him deploring his sinfulness, complaining of
darkness of soul, and expressing fears that God had forgotten to be gracious, there is encouragement in the
Psalmist's disquietude: my trials, after all, were his: they
are, then, no evidences that I am not walking the pathway
of life: and he, whose continued triumph would have
dispirited me, cheers and strengthens by his occasional
melancholy.
It is thus also with the writings of St. Paul. The
seventh chapter, for example, of the Epistle to the Romans
is invaluable on the very account which has just been indicated. It'describes that conflict between the carnal
principle and the principle of grace, of which the breast of
every renewed man is the scene. This conflict it is, with its
toils and alternations, which furnishes the downcast Chris



XII.]             THJE SONS OF GOD.               2 3 
tian with arguments against himself.  The constantly
recurring question is, if I were indeed a true believer,
would there be in my heart these struggles, too often victories, of natural corruption?  Now, it is a sound, though
not always a practically convincing, answer to this question,
that the very struggles are indications of sincerity. It is
the renewed heart alone in which there is a conflict. But
when this answer fails to satisfy, let the inquirer listen to
St. Paul, declaring of himself, " The good that I would I
do not: but the evil which I would not, that I do:" and
though he will not think less of sin, because finding that it
has often mastered an Apostle, it is strange if he be not
assured and comforted by seeing his own experience portrayed in that of one so eminent in holiness.
The same remarks are applicable to the words of our
text, when made to include, as the context shows that they
do, the true believer in Christ. The whole creation which,
with so much earnestness, and in so much disquietude,
waited "'for the manifestation of the sons of God," included the regenerate and the renewed, as well as the
irrational and inanimate; for, saith St. Paul, even "we
ourselves, which have the first-fruits of the Spirit, groan
within ourselves."  Now, we cannot doubt that such a man
as St. Paul enjoyed no common measure of spiritual consolation. An Apostle, who had been caught up to the third
Heaven, and who had "heard unspeakable words," must
have known, perhaps more than any other, of the joys
laid up for the saints. Indeed he here says, "We, who
have the first-fruits of the Spirit." He does not say, a
portion of the first-fruits: but, as though to mark a possession as large as was attainable upon earth, " We, who have




234               MANIFESTATION OF               [LECI.
the first-fruits of the Spirit." Whatever earnests and foretastes of future blessedness are ever accorded to believers,
these, it would seem, were enjoyed by St. Paul; and yet
St. Paul had acute mental suffering.  He shared in the
groans of the anxious and expectant creation-" Even we
ourselves groan within ourselves." So that we can have no
right, as we are often disposed, to expect perpetual peace
and sunshine of spirit, or to infer that we are not advancing towards Heaven, because our expectations of its joys
overpower not our griefs.  It appears that the most
devoted believer may groan heavily in himself; nay, that
the internal anguish may quite consist with the reception
of the richest earnests in Heaven.  And therefore, in
place of writing bitter things against ourselves, because
the promised blessedness does not make us insensible to
present distress, we ought to be content, if, with the holy
Apostle, we can anticipate Paradise, whilst weighed down
by the burthens of the flesh.
We believe of many Christians, that they distress them
selves with the thought, that the hope of Heaven cannot
have its due influence, unless it make them superior to the
afflictions of life. If, they will argue, our thoughts were
rightly fixed on everlasting glories, and we did indeed anticipate what God hath prepared for his people, present
causes of distress would be unable to agitate, and we
should already enjoy an unbroken happiness. But it is
evident that such was not the case with St. Paul  what
ground have you, then, to conclude that it should be with
you?  St. Paul groaned in himself, though he had the firstfruits of the Spirit; therefore, let no one suppose that,
because often oppressed and wearied in mind, he is either




XII.]             THE SONS OF GOD.                235
not approaching the possession of Heaven, or not duly
swayed by its motives. It is thus that our text sets itself
against a frequent occasion of despondency. We indeed
thoroughly acknowledge, and earnestly maintain, that the
hope and anticipation of Heaven will greatly animate the
Christian during his sojourn upon earth. "For I reckon
that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to
be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us."
But when we expect to turn earth into Heaven, to make
such use of what is promised that it shall almost annihilate
what is present; and when we think it matter of self-reproach, that we are not so elevated by the majesty of what
is proposed as our portion, as to soar above all sorrow and
anxiety; it is well that we hearken to one whose faith we
cannot think to rival, nor whose rapture to reach, and
hear St. Paul, after he had made creation vocal, and the
universal utterance an utterance of distress, using language
which proves that he included himself in this assertion of
anxiety and weariness, " For the earnest expectation of the
creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God."
But there is much mbre in these words than an implied
answer to doubts produced by fixing some wrong standard
of spiritual attainment. That there may be the hope and
the foretaste of Heaven, even where there is great spiritual suffering-this is satisfactorily established by the declaration of St. Paul. But how it comes to pass that these
may co-exist-why, with all the evidences of being a true
believer, there may be groaning in ourselves —these are
points which deserve serious inquiry. Then again, when
the earnest expectation of the creature-the creature including the true believer-has been shown to be consistent




236              MANIFESTATION OF              [LECrT
with vital religion, the question will occur, Why should
this expectation hbe fixed on 1"the manifestation of the
sons of God," or, on-for we have seen from the context
that this is the same thing —the redemption, or resurrection, of the body?  WVe will strive to embrace these
several matters within the remainder of our discourse.
And, first, as to how a truly religious man, in whom
the Spirit of God is actively working, can yet have share
in that disquieted longing which the Apostle here ascribes
to the whole of this creation. You might perhaps have
thought, that, where the Spirit was evidently engaged in
renewing a man, exciting in him the love of God and of
holiness, and continually increasing his conformity to the
image of Christ, the heart would do nothing but exult, as
having proof of direct interest in the promises of the
Gospel. But let it only be remembered that what is done
towards mastering corruption, serves but to show how
much remains undone, and you will immediately perceive
that what proves us true followers of Christ may yet
minister to sadness. We need not demonstrate this to
those who know any thing of spiritual experience. They
will at once admit that they discover daily more of the
wickedness of the heart, and of the power of corruption;
so that to grow in grace is to grow in the sense of their
own great depravity. Where is the Christian, however
long, and however steadfastly, he may have pressed towards Heaven, who appears to himself to have advanced
towards perfection — rather, where is the Christian whose
estimate of himself is not one which asserts him further
off than ever from the scriptural standard? It is not that
he goes back. Nay, it is not that he fails to go forward




XII.]              THE SONS OF GOD.               237
but it is spiritual improvement, to be more and more conscious of natural depravity.  One great, if not the chief,
work of grace is the teaching us ourselves; and every
lesson is a new demonstration of indwelling evil. Oh, he
can have taken but few lessons in that most intricate, yet
interesting, of subjects, his own heart, who has not learnt
to say with the Prophet, " It is deceitful above all thingswho can know it 2"  And you will all admit that this must
be painful: the believer may well join his groans to those
of the whole creation, if every day's experience do but add
to his sense of the power of indwelling sin.
Yes, but, unquestionably, there are often vouchsafed to
believers in Christ anticipations of that happiness with
which the future comes charged. It is far enough from
the dream of enthusiasm, that the distant world will occasionally throw open its gates, and allow those who are
fighting the good fight of faith to animate themselves by
glimpses of its splendours. Often, when the mind muses
on the saint's rest, in the privacies of a holy solitude, and
in the retirements of communion with God and his Son,
the promised glories will come out, as it were, from the
shadowy distance, and time, with its trials, give place to
eternity with its majesties. Then it is that a "peace
which passeth all understanding," pervades the mind; and
faith, nerved by the promises of the Word, brings into the
soul a gladness which has nothing of earthly element. In
seasons such as these, the obtained view of Heaven is so
clear and elevating, that, whilst privileged with the
vision, the Christian rises superior to every fear and anxiety: he seems to himself to have finished his conflict,
trampled death under foot, and to be already mingling




238               MANIFESTATION OF               [LECT,
with the happy throng who rejoice in the presence of God
and of the Lamb. And shall a man, thus privileged, be
disquieted?  Shall he join his groans to those of the
creation?  Yes, indeed. For it were a strange thought.
that a glimpse of Heaven will make him less alive to the
afflictions of earth. Shall the having gazed, though but
for an instant, on what is pure, and peaceable, and bright,
diminish his sensibility to the pollution and turmoil of the
scene in which he still dwells? Shall he, when he returns
from his lofty flight, and comes down from his splendid
excursion, to engage once more in the business of probation, and be again occupied with keeping under the body,
and disciplining unruly passions-shall he, think you, feel
less than before the irksomeness of the combat with corruption, or be more at home in the wilderness through
which his path lies?  Oh, it is not the view of Heaven
which will lighten the burden laid on us by our sinfulness.
I had almost said, it will increase that burden. Indeed, it
is not possible that a believer should have gazed on the
fair spreadings of the saint's home, and contemplated,
however distantly, what God hath prepared for him as a
member of his Son, and not have strengthened in the feeling, that Heaven is worth all his strivings, and in the
resolve, that he will wrestle for its happiness. But I
cannot think that he will be more at ease than before in a
world which will only seem drearier by contrast. I cannot
think that the having listened to the harpings of angels
will make the storm and the discord sound less offensively.
I cannot think that because he has tasted the fiesh waters
of the river of life, he will find less bitterness in the
wormwood which sin will yet infuse into his cup. I cannot




Xil.]             THE SONS OF GOD.               239
think that, with the earnests in possession, he will be other
than more intense in his longings for the perfect fruition.
And therefore do I believe that, the richer his anticipations
Heaven, the deeper will be his cry, " 0 that I. had the
wings of a dove! for then would I flee away and be at
rest." So that an Apostle, and that Apostle St. Paul, who
had actually trodden the firmament, and seen what saints
enjoy, and heard what seraphs sing, was of all others the
most likely to feel the pressure of spiritual anxieties, and
to sigh for deliverance; and who then shall wonder at his
using language which shows that he included himself, and
other true believers, in his description of a groaning and
waiting creation, "The earnest expectation of the creature
waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God?"
"The manifestation of the sons of God"-we have
already shown you that the manifestation is that which
shall be made at the general resurrection, when true believers, "the sons of God," shall receive their glorified
bodies, and take visible possession of the kingdom prepared from before the foundation of the world. The
Apostle, indeed, knew himself to be a son of God. But
he had not yet been declared such in the face of the universe, nor visibly enrolled in the heavenly household.
There was yet to come the public acknowledgment by
God of the saints as his children, and their glorious investiture with the dignities which appertain to such relationship. For this adoption the Apostle longed; yea, for this
adoption, this manifestation, it was that the whole creation,
groaning in its every department, looked with the intensest
expectation. And this adoption, or this manifestation, is
identified with the redemption of the body. The body




240               MANIFESTATION OF              [LECT.
was redeemed by Christ as well as the soul: but, for wise
purposes, the application of this redemption is so deferred
that death still claims the bodS  as its prey. It was redeemed, inasmuch as its resurrection was made sure; but
we still wait for the redemption, inasmuch as it hath yet
to mingle with the dust. Then will be emphatically the
redemption of our body, when, appearing visibly as the
Conqueror of death and of Hell, and sending forth into the
sepulchres the energies of his victory, Christ shall surround
Himself with the saints of every generation, a countless
army, wakened by his summons, and swelling his triumph.
Sown in dishonour, but raised in glory; sown in weakness,
but raised in power; sown a natural body, but raised a
spiritual body-this is redemption, is it not?  Oh, to be
no more liable to pain; no longer a weak and failing
thing; no longer the subject of death, no longer the organ
of sin-transformed into an auxiliary of the soul in all the
high business of glorifying God; every faculty, and every
sense, an engine for the executing the will of the Lord,
and gathering in new material of happiness-is not this
the redemption of the body?
And if redemption of the body, is it not moreover
" the manifestation of the sons of God 2" The believer is
indeed already a child of God; but it is in the spirit
rather than in the flesh, that he bears the impress of sonship. The soul presents tokens of a heavenly parentage;
but it is yet true of the body, that there is a law in its
members, warring against the law of the mind. But at
the Resurrection, the fallen creature shall be visibly admitted into God's family, when, body and soul both purged
from every trace, and emancipated from every consequence,




XII.]             THE SONS OF GOD.               241
of guilt-yea, both more nobly endowed than had the
birth-right never been forfeited-man wears every feature
of the lost image of God, and the son is known by likeness to the Father. And though we doubt not that the
spirits of good men, inhabiting that separate state, in
which the righteous expect the consummation of all things,
enjoy much which can be enjoyed by none but children of
~God, yet do we' believe their happiness incomplete, and
that they eagerly long for that " manifestation" of which
our text speaks. They listen for the trump of resurrection, the jubilee trump to them, as well as to this oppressed
and groaning creation. They know that, at the peal of
that trump, the stamp of sonship, already graven splendidly on themselves, will be communicated to every atom of
that dust which constituted the tabernacles that enclosed
them on earth; and that suddenly (the spirit rushing into
its rebuilded home) there will be presented to the universe
man, the fallen thing, the dissolved thing, radiant as the
offspring of God: and that, hailed by this universe as in
every lineament a child of the Most High, his manifestation will take place amid the plaudits, and consign him to
a blessedness exceeding that of angels.
Great honour is thus put upon the body. We stand
by the lifeless form from which the soul hath just departed; but our thoughts are with the soaring spirit, and
not with the tenement which lies before us in its coldness
ar  its stillness. We strive-though it is vain that we
labour to attend the arrowy and inscrutable flight-to
follow the soul into the presence of its Maker; and there
we imagine it robed in light, and rich in happiness; but
the body is regarded with melancholy, and almost with
16




242              MANIFESTATION OF              [LECT
disgust; and we make the sad preparations for its funeral;
and we seem to count it altogether lost when coffined and
sepulchred. If we would console those who are mourning
under bereavement, we speak of the blessed estate of the
emancipated spirit: our discourse turns exclusively on the
soul; and scarce a solitary word is given to the body
which has been left to corruption. It was not thus with
St. Paul. Death had entered the Thessalonian families,
and the Apostle desired to speak peace to the mourners.
The words, which he employed, were undoubtedly;ntended to serve as a model of consolatory discourse; for
he concludes by saying, " Wherefore comfort one another
with these words." But what were these words? Not
words on the happiness of the separate state, its deep and
rapturous repose. They were words of a resurrection. I
hear in them the shout of the descending Mediator, the
voice of the Archangel, the trump of God. The Apostle
makes no reference to the soul: he speaks only of the
body: and that the grave shall be emptied, that the
saints, found alive at the coming of the Lord, shall not
"prevent them that are asleep," but that " the dead in
Christ shall rise first"-these are the topics by which he
would animate the Thessalonians to the sorrowing not as
others which have no hope. 5Why did he fetch the material of his consolation from the resurrection of the body?
Because it was death which had brought sorrow into these
families: if, then, he would comfort them, let him show
them death vanquished and destroyed. Many hopes and
many joys had gone down into the grave: let him then
irradiate that grave, and strip it of its terrors. I know
not why a churchyard should excite none but melancholy




XII.]              THE SONS OF GOD.               243
thoughts; nor why, if we are to be cheered under bereavement, our meditation must be wholly on the disembodied
spirit. We have heard of the redemption of the body.
With that redemption stands associated whatever is magnificent and transporting in our everlasting portion. The
quickening of the buried dust will be "the manifestation
of the sons of God." Shall we not, then, look on the
receptacle of the dead with other emotions than those
stirred by the gloom and silence of its chambers? Shall
we not regard it as the future scene of the Mediator's
triumphs; the spot on which shall be effected the full and
final regeneration of humanity; and from which, amid the
convulsions of approaching judgment, shall issue, in confessed and blazing majesty, the sons and daughters of the
Lord Almighty? Shall we give nothing but our tears to
the funeral procession, as though we knew not that there
is borne along, in this sad solemnity, dust which will
engage the watchfulness of God, dust for which a Redeemer died, and which, though it have its season of
slumber and dishonour, is yet so reserved for glorious
allotment, that the soul, as it rejoices in the light of God's
presence, longs for its resurrection, as for that which shall
usher into the promised inheritance?
Hearken to the text, " The earnest expectation of the
creature waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God."
It is as though the inanimate and irrational creation, burdened with the consequences of man's transgression, fixed
its gaze on the sepulchres of the saints, and longed for the
moment when they shall be riven by th.e Judgment call,
Let those sepulchres open; and there will come a restitution of the, beauty which sin blighted, and of the peace




244               MANIFESTATION OF              [LECT
which it marred. With the resurrection of the righteous
will be that of the departed glories and the lost gladness
of our terrestrial system. Well, therefore, may creation
pant for "the manifestation of the sons of God."  But
not only they-shall not ourselves also eagerly expect
this manifestation 2 With a body whose passions and
appetites militate against righteousness, we are painfully
conscious of unfitness for membership with the pure family
of Heaven; and, therefore, however we enjoy the firstfruits of the Spirit, we must " groan in ourselves."  For
what then shall we look and long, if not for the application of the virtues of redemption to body as well as soul?.
It is not death which we desire: it is resurrection: resurrection is the redemption of the body, its redemption from
dishonour, its redemption from pollution. We join creation as, with outstretched neck, it watches every token
that the manifestation of God's sons draws near. The
coming of the Lord is that mighty event which engages,
if we know our own privileges, the longings of the heart;
for He comes to " change our vile body, that it may be
fashioned like unto his glorious body." Yes, the groanings which, throughout long centuries, have issued from
this earth, have not been unheeded: God has heard the
cry of a suffering creation, and the mourning of such as
feel the burden of corruption. He will come forth from
his place; He will exterminate evil from his empire. The
sceptre shall be restored to the rightful King; and the
sons of God, gathered from our alienated tribe, be presented " without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing."
I may not be able to imagine the scene. This starting
from the dust; this re-union of body and soul; this en



XiI.]             THE SONS OF GOD.                245
thlronement of the Mediator in his magnificent sovereignty; this exchange of the universal lament for the
universal gladness-the fir-tree coming up instead of the
thorn, and instead of the brier the myrtle-I cannot picture such august occurrences. But Scripture associates
them  with the coming of Christ. If then-and God
grant that we may all feel weary and heavy laden with
the burden of sin-we are compelled to join in the groans,
we will join also in the hopes of the creation. "Looking for
that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great
God, and our Saviour Jesus Christ." The dust, I must
inhabit it for a while. But, if I carry down with me to
the grave the distinctive marks of a believer in Christ,
hatred of sin, and desires after holiness, the grave shall be
only as the womb in which I am fashioned for immortality.
When Christ left the grave, the proclamation was, "Thou
art my Son, this day have I begotten thee;" and if sonship followed the resurrection of the Head, adoption and
manifestation shall be perfected in that of the members.
I add nothing but my earnest prayer to the God of all
grace, that we may all be found in Christ at his second
appearing.




LECTURE  XIII.
1 Cop. ii. 2.
"For I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and Him
crucified."
AND was the Apostle wrong in his determination?  He
speaks as if the doctrine of the cross were ample enough,
comprehensive enough, for all his powers. Does this, at
all, indicate that he was of a narrow and contracted mind,
which could apply itself to only one topic, whilst a hundred
others, perhaps nobler and loftier, lay beyond its grasp?
Nay, not so; the tone of St. Paul abundantly indicates
that he gloried in being thus limited to the Cross-gloried,
because in comparison there was nothing else worth knowing —gloried, because this one knowledge might be said to
include, or, where it did not include, to supersede every
other. The tone of the Apostle is not that of a man who
is apologizing for the limited character of his preaching, or
its humiliating tendency; it is rather that of one who felt
that the Corinthians had nothing to complain of, seeing
that he had taught them the most precious, the most diffusive, the most ennobling of truths. Indeed, he had




ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.         247
known nothing amongst them, "save Jesus Christ, and
Him crucified"-but what else was there which, as sinners,
it was important for them to learn? what which, if learnt,
did not derive a fresh meaning, or fresh interest, from the
Cross of the Redeemer?
Here, then, is our subject of discourse-the Apostle
determined to know nothing save the Cross; but the Cross
is the noblest study for the intellectual man, as it is the
only refuge for the immortal. How different was the plan
of the Apostle from that pursued by many who have
undertaken the propagation of Christianity. It is recorded, we believe, of some of the Rornan Catholic missionaries, that, in their endeavours to bring over the heathen
to Christianity, they scrupulously kept the Crucifixion out
of sight, considering that such a fact would invincibly
prejudice those whom they wished to convince. And it is
well known that the Moravian missionaries, men of extraordinary piety and zeal, laboured for a long time in Greenland, without, at least, giving prominence to the doctrine of
the atonement, believing that it became them to clear the
way, and prepare men's minds, before they advanced the
truth of Christ's death-a truth so likely, as they thought,
to give fatal offence even to the most degraded and barbarous. In each case the same feeling was at work-the
feeling that there is something very humiliating in the
Cross, and that human reason, and, yet more, human pride,
must recoil from the thought of being saved by one who
died as a malefactor. And you must all be aware that,
whatever the error or mistake of the missionaries to whom
we have referred, there is a great repugnance in men's
minds to that doctrine which is virtually the essence of




248            ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.         [LECT,
Christianity, and that what St. Paul elsewh, re calls " the
offence of the Cross" can only cease with the thorough
renewal of our nature. It must be immediately allowed
that the scheme of Christianity is not one which commends
itself at once to those whom it proposes to rescue.; on the
contrary, it is so constructed as almost necessarily to excite
opposition, because, in place of flattering any one passion,
it requires the subjugation of all. But, after all, the observable thing is that Christianity is valuable and glorious
on those very accounts on which, in common estimation, it
must move the antipathies of its hearers. The missionary
might keep back all mention of the Cross, because fearful
of exciting dislike and contempt. But, all the while, he
would be withholding that which gives its majesty to the
system, and striving to apologize for its noblest distinction.
It is sufficiently evident, from the words of our text,
that this was the opinion of the great Apostle to the Gentiles. And we reckon it of importance that we should
occasionally shift the ground of debate; that, in place of
admitting what may be styled the shame of the Cross, we
should boldly affirm and exhibit its glory. We know not
that we ought to allow that the missionaries, of whom we
have spoken, acted with prudence and penetration, even
supposing that they had only carnal principles for their
guidance. With all our admission, that, at the first hearing, there would be something repulsive in the doctrine of
Christ crucified, we believe that this doctrine has only to be
fairly exhibited, and fully expanded, in order to its attracting the warmest admiration-and we can think it in the
highest degree, probable, even if you shut out the consideration that faithful preaching alone may expect the divine




XIII.]        ST. PAUL S DETERMINATION.         249
blessing, that missionaries would have made far greater
way by insisting on and displaying the majesty of the
Cross, than by keeping out of sight, or only partially
exhibiting, what they erroneously thought so likely to
displease. And it is this which, on the present occasion, we
wish to make good. Give your close attention to so interesting a question. We are to set the Apostle against all
those teachers who would, in any way or degree, keep
back, or obscure, the doctrine of the Cross; and we are to
see whether he did not display as much of wisdom as of
boldness, when, in no tone of apology, but with the confidence of one who knew that he had taught what was best
worth the being learned, he exclaimed to the Corinthians,
"I determined not to know any thing among you, save
Jesus Christ, and Him crucified."
Now, we need hardly observe to you, that, so far as
Christ Jesus Himself was concerned, it is not possible to
compute what may be called the humiliation or shame of
the Cross. It is altogether beyond our power to form any
adequate conception of the degree in which the Mediator
humbled Himself, when born of a woman, and taking part
of flesh and blood. It is beyond our power, because, with
all our searchings, we cannot find out God, we cannot approach the confines of the Divine nature; and therefore,
neither can we measure the mighty descent down which
Divinity passed in assuming humanity. But, after all, the
more surprising humiliation is that which seems to come
more nearly within our measurement-the humiliation of
the Man Christ Jesus, the humiliation to which the Mediator submitted after our nature had been assumed. In
merely becoming man, or, rather, in becoming man without




250           ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.         ELECT
the taint of original sin, the eternal Word did not bring
Himself under the curse: He was not accessible to death,
that great penalty of transgression; neither was He
heir to any of that degradation which is, literally, our
birthright as the seed of the apostate. But when the
Redeemer, though He had done no sin, consented to place
himself in the position of sinners-when, though the violated law had no claims upon Him, He voluntarily made
Himself the subject of its exactions-then was it that He
marvellously and mysteriously descended —there being, if
we may venture to compare things, neither of which
we can measure, something less overwhelming in the fact,
that "the Word was made flesh," than in the other fact,
that "being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of
the Cross."  Here it is that the word " shame" may justly
be used; for in this it was that Christ Jesus became "a
curse for us." We read nothing of the shame of his becoming a man, but we do read of his dying a malefactor.
Thus St. Paul declares of Him, in his Epistle to the
Hebrews, "Who, for the joy that was set before Him,
endured the Cross, despising the shame"-an expression
which equally marks that Christ was sensible of the
indignities of his death, and that He made light of them
when compared with the recompense which was to follow.
And if we allow that it was a shameful thing, that it
involved a humiliation which no thought can measure, that
the Lord of life and glory should have hung as a malefactor between earth and heaven, with what other emotions,
you may ask, but those of sorrow and self-reproach, should
we contemplate the Cross? Shall we exult in the Cross?




XIII.]        ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.           251
Shall we make it matter of triumphant rejoicing, that the
Son of God had to ascend such an altar, and that, stretched
thereon, an ignominious spectacle, He poured out his soul
unto death?  Indeed, we are not so to exult as to lose those
feelings of godly contrition which a sight of the Cross
should always produce. The awful transactions, of which
Calvary was the scene, should never be contemplated by us
without a deep sense of the magnitude of the guilt which
required such an expiation, and great self-abhorrence at
having added to the burden which weighed down the
innocent Sufferer. But, nevertheless, though of all men,
perhaps, St. Paul was the least likely to forget or under
rate the causes of sorrow presented by the Cross, this
great Apostle, in determining to know nothing but the
Cross, could adopt a tone which implied that he gloried
in the Cross. And why, think you, was this? How
comes it to pass that that, which, under one point of view,
covers the beholder with confusion, should yet, under
some other, excite feelings of exultation, as though all the
shame disappeared, and there remained nothing but the
magnificence of triumph? Or why, if there be so much
of shame about the Cross, was the Apostle wise, when
addressing himself to a refined and polished people, in
determining to " know nothing but Jesus Christ, and Him
crucified?"
Indeed, there is no difficulty in finding answers to these
questions; the only difficulty is in the selecting those
which are the more pertinent and striking. TWe may first
observe that the great truth which the Apostle had to impress on the Corinthians was, that, in spite of their sinfulness and alienation, they were still beloved by the one true




252           ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.        [LECT
God. And how could he better do this than by displaying the Cross? The greater the humiliation to which the
Son of God submitted, the greater was the amount of
Divine love towards man. We admit, what, of course, it
is impossible to deny, that there was an unmeasured indignity in the death of the Cross, and that the consideration
that iAt was for our sakes this indignity was endured, should
bring us down to the dust, and fill us with penitential sorrow. But who can fail to perceive that, the greater the
obstacles to our rescue, the lower the depths to which a
Mediator must descend in order to lay hold on the perishing, the more intense was the manifestation of the compassions of God, of his regard to the lost, notwithstanding
their apostacy? We know not whether it be lawful to
speak of the possibility of our having been saved through
any other arrangement. We may not be able to prove,
and perhaps it hardly becomes us to investigate, what may
be called the necessity for Christ's death, so that, unless
Jesus had consented to die, it would not have been in
God's power to open to us the kingdom of heaven. But
we cannot be passing the bounds of legitimate supposition,
if we imagine, for a moment, that some less costly process
had sufficed, and that justice had been satisfied, without
exacting from our Surety penalties so tremendous as were
actually paid. And is it not too evident to ask any proof,
that, in the very proportion in which you diminish the
sufferings of the Mediator, you diminish, also, the exhibition of his love, and leave it a thing to be questioned,
though not perhaps disproved, that God's compassions are
ample enough for every case of human sinfulness and sorrow? It is the fine argument of St. Paul, an argument by




XII1.]        ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.         253
which he would repress every fear and animate to confidence, " He that spared not his own Son, but delivered
Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely
give us all things?" It is an argument which rests on the
fact that nothing can be needed by us which it would cost
God as much to bestow, as did that which has already
been given; and which draws, as an inference from this
fact, that He who has imparted the greater benefit cannot
be willing to withhold the less. But you destroy the force
of the argument, you take all point from the verse, if you
in any degree weaken the words, " He that spared not his
own Son, but delivered Him up for us all." Suppose that
God had spared his own Son; suppose that the arrangements made for our redemption.had not required his
delivering Him up for us all; and is it not undeniable that
the Apostle's reasoning is so weakened that it could not
be urged in many extreme cases of guilt and destitution?
There might have been room for debate whether what was
required did not exceed what had already been done, and
whether therefore the fact of redemption furnished groundwork of hope, or rather of assurance, that God would give
what the urgency demanded.
But Redemption through the death, the death on the
Cross, of a Mediator, and that Mediator the Only-begotten
of the Father, leaves no place for such debate, because imagination itself can suggest nothing greater than what God
hath already done, and because therefore no case can arise
in which the want can be thought to exceed the munificence and mercy of God. It is then to " Christ Jesus, and
Him crucified," that we make our appeal, when we would
furnish such evidence of Divine love as must overbear all




254           ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.         [LFCT.
unbelief. We do not rest our proof on the fact that we
have been redeemed, but on the fact that we have been
redeemed through the bitter passion, and the ignominious
death, of God's only and well-beloved Son. It is here
that the proof is absolutely irrefragable. Knowing that
Christ "bare our sins in his own body on the tree," we
know that we are beloved with a love which no thought
can measure, no unworthiness alienate, no necessities overtask. What then, as sinners alienated from God, can we
want to know, if we know " Jesus Christ, and Him crucifled?"  In what shall we exult, in what glory, if not in
this knowledge? If there be a cause of exultation, a motive for rejoicing, to a fallen creature, must it not be that
he is still clear to his Maker, that notwithstanding all
which he hath done to provoke Divine wrath, and make
condemnation inevitable, he is regarded, with unspeakable
tenderness by the Almighty, watched over with a solicitude, and provided for at a cost, which could not be exceeded if he were the noblest and purest of the beings
that throng the intelligent universe? Teach me this, and
you teach me every thing. And this I learn from Christ
crucified. I learn it indeed in a measure from the sun as
he walks thQ firmament, and warms the earth into fertility.
I learn it from the moon, as she gathers the stars into her
train, and throws over creation her robe of soft light. I
gather it from the various operations and provisions of nature, from the faculties of the mind, from the capacities of
the soul. But if I am taught by these, the teaching after
all is but imperfect and partial: they do indeed give testimony that man is not forgotten of God; but the testimony
would be equally given, were there the power of receiving




XIII.]        ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.           255
it, to the brute creation, to the innumerable animated
tribes which are to perish at death. It is not a testimony,
at least not a direct, that we are cared for as immortal
beings, and can be pardoned as sinful. It is not a testimony that He who is of purer eyes than to look upon iniquity, can receive into favour even the vilest of those who
have thrown off allegiance, and manifest such an exuberance of loving-kindness towards the guilty, as will not
leave the worst case without hope and without succour.
Show us what will give such testimony as this, and sun,
and moon, and the granaries of nature, and the workings
of intellect, will drop, in comparison, their office of instructor.
We show you Christ on the Cross. Are the blazings
of the sun, or the milder shinings of the moon, or the processes of vegetation, or the soarings of mind, a thousandth
part as demonstrative of a love in which sinners may confide, as this emblem of shame, this memento of ignominy?
I gaze upon the Cross, and He who is extended there
seems stretching forth the arms of his kindness, that He
may embrace the world, and gather the perishing under
the wing of his protection. It is no finite being who is
thus suspended; though He be dying amid the revilings
of his enemies, He is "from  everlasting and to everlasting," as truly, as actually, God, as though throned in inaccessible splendour and summoning into existence new
worlds and new orders. Then I cannot doubt the Divine
love. I cannot doubt of this love, that it may justly be
called inexhaustible; and that, if I will only allow myself
to be its object, there is no amount of guiltiness which can
exclude me fiom its embrace. And this it is which, as an




256           ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.         [LEC]
immortal yet sinful being, I have most interest in ascer
taining; this it is in which, if once ascertained, I have
most cause to exult. Come then a teacher to those sunk
in Heathenism, and what shall he teach? Ay, one may
go and tell them of their being objects of God's providence, fed by his bounty, guided by his light, curtained by
his shadow. Another may tell them of their having been
made after his image, endowed with immortality, illuminated by reason. I would not be insensible to the excellence of such teaching, to the beauty of these proofs of the
love of the Creator. But, feeling that these Heathen are
in danger of eternal destruction, and knowing that the
sacrifice made on their behalf is such as irresistibly proves
that God so loves them as to do every thing to save them,
except dishonour Himself, give me the teacher who would
exclaim  with the Apostle, "I determined not to know
any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and Him  crucified."
We proceed to observe, that, although to the eye of
sense there be nothing but shame about the Cross, yet a
spiritual discernment perceives it to be hung with the very
richest of trophies. You will remember how St. Paul
speaks in his Epistle to the Colossians, in what magnificent
terms he describes the achievement of the dying Re.
deemer: 1"Blotting out the handwriting of ordinances,
that was against us, which was contrary to us, he 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;" as though he had vanquished
all the enemies of God and of men, stripped them  of
usurped sovereignty, and fastened them, in the face of the




XIII.]        ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.          257
universe, to the Cross on which Himself hung. And what
was this but the matter of fact? It is necessarily to be
admitted, that, in one point of view, there was shame,
degradation, ignominy, in Christ's dying on the Cross: but
it is equally certain, that, in another, there was honour,
victory, triumph. You are all aware that such was the
scheme of our' Redemption, that " without shedding of
blood could be no remission," and that it was made the indispensable condition of human salvation, that the Word,
when " found in fashion as a man, should offer Himself as
"a sacrifice for sin."  And if such were the ordained arrangements for human salvation, then it follows that on
the Cross was achieved the mightiest result of which this
earth has ever been the scene, and that death was made
the instrument of its own destruction, and of that of the
great adversaries of God. We are told that through death
Christ Jesus destroyed him that had the power of death,
that is, the devil; and that he " made peace by the blood
of his Cross." We know that, in dying, the Redeemer
brake off the yoke from the neck of the human population, wrenched from Satan the sceptre which he had long
wielded as the god of this world, and scattered the seeds
of immortality amid the dust of the sepulchres. Might
not therefore an Apostle declare that Christ Jesus spoiled
principalities and powers, and made a show of them openly,
triumphing over them in the Cross?
I know not whether he refers to any exhibition which
was vouchsafed to higher orders of being; whether he is
to be understood as affirming that there was a vivid manifestation of the triumphs of the Cross, just as though the
devil and his apostate company, and death, and Hell, had
17




25 S          ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.         ELECT,
all been made to pass in procession, like captives at the
chariot-wheels of their conqueror, that the inhabitants of
the invisible world might know how victorious had Christ
been in death. But, whatever the demonstrations of conquest which may have been granted to angels, we need
nothing but the eye of faith in order to our discerning on
the Cross the finest trophies which a victor ever won.
There, nailed with the very nails by which the feet and
hands of the Redeemer were pierced, hangs the law by
which all were condemned, but which has now nothing to
lay to the charge of God's elect. There are impaled those
principalities and powers, the originators and propagators
of evil, who leagued together to effect man's destruction,
but who, now that Christ has died, machinate in vain
against such as have faith in the Lord our Redeemer.
There is fastened death itself, that great tyrant and destroyer of humankind: for, in dying, Christ accomplished
the noble prediction, " O death, I will be thy plagues; O
grave, I will be thy destruction." There our sins are
transfixed, having been condemned in the flesh, because
borne in Christ's body on the tree, exhibited as capable of
forgiveness, yet as objects of abhorrence, inasmuch as
nothing shows their enormity like that which gains their
pardon. And am I then to be ashamed of the Cross? It
is to be ashamed of the battle-field on which has been won
the noblest of victories, of the engine by which has been
vanquished the fiercest of enemies. It is to be ashamed
of conquest, ashamed of triumph, ashamed of deliverance.
Indeed you may tell me that a result may be glorious, and
yet the means, through * which it is effected, degrading and
ignoble. But what is called the shame is one great element




XIII.]        ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.         259
in the glory.  It would, comparatively, have been as
nothing, that, as leader of the celestial armies, Christ
should have overthrown the foes of God and of man-the
splendid thing is, that He " trod the winepress alone, and
that of the people there was with Him none." It would,
comparatively, have been as nothing, that, putting forth
all the might of Divinity, he should have shown himself
superior to every adversary-the marvellous, the amazing
truth is, that he met the opposing forces as a man, a man
over whom death was to have power; and that as a man,
yea, a man in the agonies of dissolution, he discomfited
every foe, and won every trophy.  He triumphed by
being apparently defeated; He vanquished, by the act of
yielding to an enemy.
And therefore was his death glorious, ay, unspeakably
more glorious than life, array it how you will with circumstances of honour. To have destroyed death by living,
would have been wonderful: but to have destroyed it by
dying, oh, this is the prodigy of prodigies, the glory of
glories. This takes all signs of infirmity from the wounds
of the Mediator-they were the weapons with which He
conquered. This turns the crown of thorns into a diadem
of splendour; for in being twined round his brow, they
lost their power of injuring. This converts the sepulchre
of Jesus into the avenue of Immortality; for, in entering
it, He gave life to the buried, and made sure the Resurrection of whatever hath been human. And if all this may
be affirmed of " Jesus Christ, and Him crucified," can I
want any thing more from a teacher who visits me to
guide me to God and Immortality? Must he equip himself with the learning of the schools, must he become




260           ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.         [LECT,
conversant with the theories of philosophy, or must he
frame apologies for what he has to tell, as though the
doctrine of Christ crucified were not enough for the sinner,
or as though it could not fail to excite prejudice?  Nay,
ye learned teachers, ye polished lecturers, ye subtile reasoners, give place to an Apostle who could thus express
his fixed and earnest resolution, " I determined not to
know any thing amongst you, save Jesus Christ, and Him
crucified."
But we have hitherto scarcely carried our argument to
the full extent of the Apostle's assertion. Not only was
he determined to know amongst the Corinthians " Jesus
Christ, and Him crucified," but he was determined to know
nothing else. And if you consider for a moment what
reason we have to believe that every blessing which we
enjoy may be traced to the Cross, you will readily acknowledge that St. Paul went no further than he was
bound to go as a faithful messenger of Christ. It is the
doctrine of Scripture that man forfeited, through apostacy,
whatever he possessed of good upon earth, as well as
whatever might have been reserved for him in another
state of being. And the only sufficjent reason to be given,
why what had been forfeited was not instantly withdrawn,
seems to be that the intercession of Jesus was prevalent
at the first moment of transgression, so that immediately
that sin cried for vengeance, the atoning blood, not then
shed, pleaded for remission. It is not enough to say that
Christ, by his agony and passion, recovered for us the lost
Immortality; we believe it to be just as true, that He
preserved for man whatever is valuable in time, as that
He regained for him whatever is glorious in Eternity. I




XIII.]        ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.           261
think that we ought never to look admiringly on the
magnificence of the landscape, never to gather in the
harvest, never to gladden ourselves with the charities of
home, never to trace the workings of intellect, without as
distinct a feeling of obligation to Christ, as when we hear
how the soul may be saved through his blood and his
righteousness. I can say to the man of science, thine
intellect was saved for thee by the Cross. I can say to
the father of a family, the endearments of home were
rescued by the Cross. I can say to the admirer of nature,
the glorious things in the mighty panorama retained their'
places through the erection of the Cross. I can say to
the ruler of an empire, the subordination of different
classes, the working of society, the energies of government, are all owing to the Cross.
And when the mind passes to the consideration of
spiritual benefits, where can you find one not connected
with " Jesus Christ, and Him crucified?" The pardon of
sin-it can be granted, because an expiation has been made;
but that expiation was made upon the Cross. The influences of the Spirit-they can be vouchsafed, because purchased by Christ; but the purchase-money was paid upon
the Cross. Death may be triumphed over-but only because Christ spoiled it of its sting, as He hung upon
the Cross. Heaven may be entered-but only because,
through the sacrifice of the Cross, Christ opened the kingdom to all believers.  Thus, time and eternity, each is
equally irradiated, each equally filled with benediction by
the Cross, as though there flowed from that which, to a
carnal eye, seems the emblem of shame, whatever is precious to man as a sojourner on earth, whatever is needed




262           ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.          [LECT.
yv him as the heir of immortality. What then do I need
beyond the doctrine of the Cross?  What is there of any
worth to me in my immortal capacity which you can teach
me, that is not derived from the Cross? Then how shall
an instructor prepare himself for visiting the idolatrous
Corinthians?  Of course he takes with him  the great
truths of the incarnation and atonement; but is it necessary that he should add to these? must he have varieties
to meet the various tastes of his audience? must he be
prepared to back up these truths by other and collateral
doctrines, or to illustrate them by curious analogies?  Ah!
no-so true is it that all we have, and all we hope for,
flows to us from the Cross, so certain that every truth in
which as immortal beings we are closely interested, is, in
some way, derived from the Cross, that an Apostle, not
because he was narrow-minded, but because he was largeminded, not because he wished to teach but little, but
because he wished to teach much, could exclaim, "I determined not to know any thing amongst you, save Jesus
Christ, and Him crucified."
But we have yet another remark to offer. St. Paul
must have desired to teach that doctrine which was best
adapted to the bringing the Corinthians to "live soberly,
righteously, and godly in the world."  If, therefore, he
confined himself to any one doctrine, we may be sure that
he considered it the most likely to be influential on the
practice, on the turning sinners from the error of their
ways, and making them obedient to God's law. And what
doctrine is this, if not that of " Jesus Christ, and Him
crucified?" In another place St. Paul describes himself as
glorying in the Cross, because that by it the " world was




XIII.]        ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.           263
crucified unto him, and he unto the world."  What are we
to understand by this twofold crucifixion?   The world
was to St. Paul as a crucified thing; and St. Paul was to
the world as a crucified thing. They were dead one to
the other. The Apostle regarded the world, with its
pomp, its show, its riches, its pleasures, its honours, with
no other feelings than he would have regarded a malefactor fastened to a cross, and whose condition could
excite no desire for participation. Or, all that the world
could offer appeared no more attractive to St. Paul than
it would to a man in the act of dissolution, and who, suspended on a cross, would look down with a kind of insensibility on objects which before had been precious in his
sight. Thus the world was to the Apostle as a crucified
thing; or, to express the same idea somewhat differently,
the Apostle was to the world as a crucified man; so that,
if you put away the metaphor, the thing affirmed is, that
St. Paul was completely " a new creature," with affections
detached from things below and fixed on things above.
And he ascribes this change in himself to the virtues
of the Cross, to " Jesus Christ, and Him crucified." And
justly might he thus ascribe it. It is one of the great
fruits of Christ's passion and death, that the renewing
influences of the Holy Ghost are shed on us abundantly.
We read, that, when the Mediator ascended up on high
that He might claim the recompense of his humiliation
and sufferings, He received gifts for men, yea, " even for
the rebellious, that the Lord God migbht dwell amongst
them."  Without the descent of the Spirit, the work of
Redemption would have been incomplete; for it is the
Spirit which takes of the things of Christ, and shows




264            ST PAUL'S DETERMINATION.          [LECT.
them to our souls. It is the Spirit which applies, or makes
available, the finished work of the Mediator; so that,
though redeemed, we could not be saved unless the Spirit
convinced us of sin, wrought in us repentance, and enabled
us to believe in Jesus as our advocate with God. But, of
course, if the Spirit could not have been bestowed, unless
Christ had been crucified, we are not more indebted to the
Cross for the " inheritance of the saints in light," than for
that meetness for the inheritance, without which Heaven
cannot be entered, nor enjoyed if it could. It is, therefore, through the Cross that we become new creatures,
crucified to the world, and the world to us-because it is
through the sacrifice presented on the Cross that those
influences are derived to us, without which there can be
nothing of moral renovation. And there is more to be
said than this. Would you learn to despise the pomps
and vanities of the world, to hate sin, to withstand evil
lusts? Then must you be much on the mount of Crucifixion, much with Jesus in his last struggle with evil.
Who would yield to a corrupt passion, who would indulge
himself in unlawful gratifications, who would hearken to
a base temptation, if his eye were upon Christ, "wounded
for our transgressions, and bruised for our iniquities?"
The sight of Jesus, pierced by and for our sins, is the
great preservative against our yielding to the pleadings of
a corrupt nature. One glance at the Cross would make
us pause in the pursuit of a bauble, bring confusion of face
at our daring to be sensual, and fill us with self-reproach
that we could desire what is perishable.
The world was one of those trophies which, in his hour
of apparent defeat, but actual mastery, Christ fastened to




XIII.]        ST. PAUL'S DETERMINATION.         265
the tree on which he hung; for, in dying, he defaced and
deformed the objects most admired and coveted amongst
men; and the nails, with which he was pierced, are still
those which must be driven into our passions and lusts, if,
like Jael with Sisera, we would see the enemy stretched
dead at our feet. And if we can affirm this of the Cross;
and if the Apostle must have desired to publish that
amongst the Corinthians, which was most likely to be
effectual in bringing them out of darkness into marvellous
light; can you any longer wonder at the determination
announced in our text?  We, too, will know nothing
"save Jesus Christ, and Him crucified." By nature we
are prisoners, and this teaches us how to be free. We are
powerless —this teaches us how to gain strength. We are
doomed to eternal misery-this teaches us how to become
heirs of happiness. To whom then shall we go but to Christ
upon the Cross? 0 Lord! it is only through Thee, Thee
dying, the just for the unjust, that I can live; therefore
strengthen me in the determination to know nothing but
Thee, and Thee crucified.




LECTURE XIV.
to bng Uf Vans gno  tjw  Rnmb.
REV. XV. 3
"And they sing the song of Moses the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb, saying,
Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and true are thy ways,
thou King of Saints."
IN the first lesson of this morning's service, there has been
read to you the inspired account of those marvellous
events, the passage of the Israelites through the Red Sea,
and the destruction of Pharaoh and all his hosts. It was
on this occasion, when the Israelites saw their enemies
lying dead on the sea-shore, that there was chanted that
lofty song of triumph, which is designated in our text as
" the song of Moses the servant of God." With the view
then of associating ** sermon with the services of the
day, we take a text which represents as heard again, and
in far different scenes, those exulting notes which floated
over waves in whose depths had been whelmed the proud
oppressors of God's ancient Church.  Before the seven
angels go forth to "pour out the vials of God's wrath
upon the earth," the Evangelist, St. John, is cheered by a
vision, representing the joy and triumph of the faithful




THE SONG OF MOSES AND THE LAMB.      267
followers of Christ, when their enemies shall have been
overthrown, and their deliverance completed. He beholds
" a sea of glass mingled with fire," and on it stand, " with
the harps of God in their hands," those who have gained
the victory over the beast, and his image, and his mark.
As the conquerors stood on this mysterious sea, they sang
that song of which our text is a part, and which is defined
by St. John, as " the song of Moses and the Lamb."
Without pretending to settle what events may be thus
prophetically alluded to, we may safely consider our text
as belonging to a glorious season, when Christ shall have
mightily interfered on behalf of his people, and swept
away those who have resisted his authority. The song is
a song of exultation, sung by the righteous, and called
forth by judgments which have overwhelmed the wicked.
And whilst this is undeniably its character, we need not
be very careful to confine our observations to the occasion
on which it was heard by St. John: we may safely extend
them to the final estate of the Church, and consider the
strains, which are swept from the harps of God, as those
which shall float through the celestial Temple. This being
premised, our text suggests two topics of discourse; for it
gives what may be called a definition of the song which
the triumphant Church sings; and it then furnishes us
with the words of which that song is composed. We
have, therefore, in the first place, to examine the name by
which the song is described, "the song of Moses the servant of God, and the song of the Lamb:" we have then,
in the second place, to consider the language employed,
"Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty;
just and true are thy ways, thou King of Saints."




268              THE SONG OF MOSES               LLecT,
Now it admits no dispute, that, when the song of the
triumphant Church is called, " the song of Moses the servant of God," the reference is, as we have already stated,
to the chant of the Israelites and their leader, when Pharaoh and his hosts had been buried in the waters. And it
is very observable, and, in some respects, almost mysterious,
that it should be this song of Moses to which glorified
saints will strike their harps. The song is one, not only of
thanksgiving to the Lord, but of exultation over the
wicked, and of rejoicing in their destruction. Hearken to
its words as given in the services of the day: " The Lord
is a man of war, the Lord is his name. Pharaoh's chariots
and his hosts hath he cast into the sea. The depths have
covered them: they sank into the bottom  as a stone."
We hardly know a more perplexing truth, nor one which
more shows how vast a change will have passed over our
feelings, when we shall have put on Immortality, than that
of our acquiescing in the punishment of the wicked; yea,
of our approving that punishment, and magnifying God
for the vindication of his attributes.  We cannot doubt
the truth. We cannot question, that, as God will hereafter
gain honour from the lost as well as the redeemed, those,
to whom God is to be all in all through eternity, and who
will therefore derive happiness from whatever contributes to his glory, will find material of thankfulness, and,
consequently, of joy, in the condemnation of the reprobate, as well as in their own pardon and acceptance. But,
with our present sensibilities and affections, this is quite
incomprehensible.  The case goes far beyond that of
Moses and the Israelites, on the shore of the Red Sea.
Even then there must have been the yearning of natural




XIV.]              AND THE LAMB.                269
sympathy over the mighty company that had been buried
in the waters. We do not believe, that, as the delivered
tribes looked on the immense grave, and thought on the
thousands over whom it had suddenly closed, they could
fail to experience, amid all their rejoicing and exultation,
something like anguish of feeling, a regret and sorrow
that the wickedness of their enemies had rendered needful
so tremendous a discomfiture. But the Egyptians were
the sworn foes of the Israelites. There were between
them none of the associations of kinsmanship; and as the
people of the Lord beheld the waters meeting in their
strength, and sepulchring their pursuers, there were none
who had to think of a child or a parent, or a friend, grappling in agony with the irresistible tide. Suppose the case
had been different, suppose that, in the ranks of the Egyptians, there had been many linked by close family ties
with the Israelites-and who can doubt that there would
have been sore hearts and weeping eyes, amongst those
for whom the Lord had wrought the great deliverance; and that, as Moses led the song and Miriam the
dance, some there would have been, whose voices would
have faltered too much to swell the one, and whose
limbs would have trembled too much to mingle in the
other?
And yet we have here only the case which must necessarily be supposed, when all shall have occurred which
was typified by the destruction of the Egyptians. It is
not merely that those, whom wrath overtakes and consigns
to perdition, will be our fellow-men, beings of the same
race, and therefore linked with us by most intimate associations. This were much: for this would seem enough to




270              THE SONG OF MOSES             ELECT.
seal our lips, or cause lament to mingle with our song.
But it must come to pass, that, in variety of instances,
there will be the division of families, so that, whilst one
member is with the Israelites, another will be with the
Egyptians. And this division must be thoroughly known.
The parent, whose child has not followed him to Heaven,
cannot fail to miss that child: the child, who has himself
escaped the deluge, but whose parent has been overwhelmed by its rushings, must be aware of the absence of
the one he most loved. And yet it is to the song of
Moses that the golden harps will in each case be swept.
" Sing ye to the Lord; for He hath triumphed gloriously:
the horse and his rider hath He thrown into the sea."  We
must again confess, that, with our present susceptibilities
and affections, it is hard to think that this can ever come to
pass. If we were to decide by our feelings, we should be
disposed to believe that it would introduce misery into
Heaven, to allow knowledge of the misery of those who
have been dear to us on earth. But, nevertheless, we can
be certain that such will not be the case. Knowing, as we
undeniably do, that nothing which has the least alliance
with sorrow shall gain entrance into the everlasting city,
we cannot doubt that the happiness of saints will be undiminished and undisturbed, though they should miss from
the shining assembly those bound to them by the most endearing relations. Yea, we must carry our persuasion yet
further than this. We must believe, that, with all the
consciousness that some whom they tenderly loved, have
earned for themselves a heritage of shame and despair,
the ransomed of the Lord wTill feel how the Divine attributes have been magnified in the punishment awarded to




XIV.]              AND THE LAMB.                271
the impenitent, and join in praising their Maker for the
manifestation of his justice.
And this-however we may shrink and revolt from
what appears so unnatural-this describes to us what is
loftiest in Christian attainment; and what, therefore, may
justly be looked for in our future state of being. I know
that it would be Christian perfection to have God all in
all; to make Him so completely the centre of the affections, or to be so lost in Deity, as to have no will but his
will, and no end but his glory. And it is this which we
are taught to expect, when admitted within the veil, and
put into possession of the incorruptible inheritance. We
are so to find our life and happiness in God, that He will
be " our strength and our portion for ever."  We are to
enter into such communion with Him, so to derive every
thing immediately from Him, and to devote every thing
entirely to Him, that it will be his presence which animates us, his will which actuates, and his honour which
employs. And what can better describe to us this being
swallowed up in God, than the announcement that the redeemed, when the waves of fire shall have rushed in their
resistlessness over the reprobate, and the Almighty shall
have fearfully vindicated his insulted Sovereignty in the
sight of the universe, will chant a high strain of praise,
and roll through the heavenly Temple a chorus of lofty
exultation? I know it strikes you as though this would
be impossible. I know there is a feeling in your breasts,
that, if there be one amongst the redeemed who is conscious that the voices of those whom he loved are swelling that deep wail which rises from the overwhelmed
throng, he at least must be silent, whilst his companions




272              THE SONG OF MOSES             [LECT,
weave the song, and add no note to the magnificent
melody. But, oh, you are calculating by what man is, not
by what man shall be. You fail to rise to the greatness
of the thought, that God is to be " all in all" to his creatures. "God all in all"-then I shall rejoice in whatever
brings honour to his name. This explains the paradox, this
removes the mystery. And you might gather much of
imagery together, to delineate how man shall be so devoted
to God as to surrender every feeling which opposes the
consecration; but nothing could outdo the vigour and
vividness of the picture, which fetches its illustrations from
the Red Sea's shore. You might catch the echoes of celestial minstrelsy, and give us fragments of those glorious
hymns, which, floating on unearthly music, penetrate the
mysterious solitudes of Deity, and fill them with celebrations of the universal Father. But if you are to tell us
how the human shall be absorbed in the Divine; how the
creature will have out-grown all the feebleness and selfishness of this finite estate, and live, and move, and have his
being in the Creator; if you would describe those stately,
yet ardent, affections which can find their counterpart objects in Deity alone, but which find them in Him unlimitedly and everlastingly-oh, then you have said as much as
our capacities can grasp, nay, more than suffices to fill them
in their utmost stretch, when you have simply quoted the
assertion of our text. For it is not the mighty melody
which swells and soars, when the heavenly hosts bow down
in adoration of the Lord; and it is not the liquid poetry,
wherewith they tell his beauty and his grace; it is not this
which can show me the mastery won over mortal passion,
and the deep, engrossing, burning love of the Almighty.




XIV.]              AND T~E LAMB.                273
But this indeed is shown me, so that imagination itself is
distanced, when you have bidden me listen to a song which
is heard, clear and distinct, above the last crash of disjointed systems, and the cry of despairing multitudes; and
have told me that this song is from the lips and the harps
of those who have been gathered from our earth into the
celestial Church; and have added, that the song is none
other than that of the Israelites over the Egyptians, whom
the waters had entombed, "' the song of Moses, the servant
of the Lord."
We proceed to observe that the song of the triumphant Church is described, not only as the song of
Moses, but as that also of the Lamb. "They sang the
song of Moses, the servant of God, and of the Lamb."
Now we may be said to feel more at home with the song
of the Lamb, than with that of Moses; for this is a song,
of which, even now, we can strike some notes; whereas,
we look on that of Moses with a kind of awe and dread,
as though it were not suited to such minstrelsy as ours.
The song of the Lamb, which the Evangelist heard, may
be considered as that new song, which is given in other
parts of the book of Revelation, and the burden of which
is the worthiness of the Mediator. The " thousand times
ten thousand, and thousands of thousands," who are round
about the throne, were heard by St. John, saying with a
loud voice, c" Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive
power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour,
and glory, and blessing." This, or something similar to
this, was the strain which mingled with that of lofty
exultation, as the Church beheld its overthrown enemies
And if, therefore, the song of Moses were one which
18




274             T:rA. SONG OF MOSES            [LErT,
showed such subjection or refinement of human feelings,
as is almost unintelligible, at least the song of the Lamb
is in thorough harmony with what is now felt and chanted
by believers. It is the song of grateful confession that we
owe every thing to the Redeemer, and that his blood and
righteousness have been the alone procuring causes of
deliverance from ruin, and a title to immortality.
And there is vast beauty in the retention of the name
of the Lamb in the melodies of Heaven. You might have
thought, that, so soon as the conflict and the ignominy
were over, all memory, or, at least, all trace of them would
have been removed; and that, as the Redeemer went to and
fro amid the throng of his admiring saints, there would be
nothing to remind them that He had been " the man of
sorrows, and acquainted with grief."  But the very reverse of this is proved from the descriptions of the book
of Revelation.  When St. John beheld the Mediator
standing in the midst of the throne, and of the four
beasts, and in the midst of the elders, the aspect under
which He appeared, was that of " a Lamb as it had been
slain."  Strange that the imagery of death should be
preserved amid scenes where death cannot enter. Yet,
why strange? Can we marvel that the Saviour should
retain the prints of the nails, and appear, at one and the
same time, as the crucified and the glorified? It was as
the Lamb that He overthrew principalities and powers.
It. was as the Lamb that He defeated the machinations of
Satan, and restored to its lost place a fallen creation. It
was as the Lamb that he exhausted the curse which
disobedience had provoked, and opened the graves, and
bade the buried come forth. And the wounds which




XIV.]              AND THE LAMB.                 275
this Lamb received, what were they but the very weapons
with which Ile conquered?  " Through death He destroyed him that had the power of death, that is, the
devil."   He vanquished by dying, He triumphed by
falling. 0 surpassingly strange, as well as surpassingly
vast, a victory, in which the conquest was won through
apparent defeat, and the foe subdued through yielding to
his power. Death died in killing Christ, and the grave
lost its sovereignty by reigning over the Lamb. Were not
then the wounds of the Redeemer the arms with which
He mastered the enemies of God? and what are they now
but trophies of the unmeasured achievement? To appear
therefore as the Lamb, "a Lamb as it had been slain," in
the midst of all the magnificence of the everlasting city,
is to appear as the mighty conqueror, who led captivity
captive. You might array Him with the insignia of universal authority, and sweep away every mark of humiliation and pain, but if lie is to stand in the assembly of
the saints, manifesting Himself as the vanquisher of evil,
wearing the spoils which He brought from the battle, clad
in the robes of the champion of God and man, then He
must appear with the mementos of Calvary, his crown the
crown of thorns, though each thorn be a sparkle of the
effulgence of Deity, and his sceptre his own cross, though
so burning with lustre that it lights up the whole expanse
of the Mediatorial kingdom.
And if it be as the Lamb that Christ is most glorious,
what but the song of the Lamb shall be most on the lips
of those for whom he died? If now we would singo the
praises of our Lord, and pour forth our gratitude for what
He hath done, we ask a hymn, which tells us of his mar



276              THE SONG OF MOSES             [LECT
vellous condescension in assuming our nature, and into
whose verses is woven the mysterious record of his agony
and passion. At times indeed we take other strains: we
celebrate our Redeemer as from everlasting and to everlasting, the Almighty One by whom the worlds were made,
and "in whose hands is the soul of every living thing."
But if the heart is to be thoroughly warmed, there must
be redemption in the anthem.  The Architect of this
mighty creation-it is a noble theme, and asks a mighty
melody. The substitute for sinners, the Deliverer of man
from unimagined misery-this is the touching theme, and
both asks and wakes the music of the soul. And it shall
be the same hereafter, only in far higher degree.'We
doubt not there will be many and various hymns chanted
in the celestial temple. Archangel to angel, cherubim to
seraphim, and man to man, will roll sublime choruses, such
as our speech cannot now embody, nor our thought
embrace. But one hymn there will be, which shall be
peculiar to men. One anthem shall be heard in which
none but those who were once ready to perish will be
able to join, but which their voices will never be weary
of uttering. " Thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to
God by thy blood out of every kindred, and tongue, and
people, and nation." It will not be fiom an angel's lips
that this anthem will issue. The angel never knew the
wretchedness of being a fallen creature, and, therefore,
cannot know the thankfulness of a redeemed. But men
— those who had rebelled, and been the enemies of God;
those who had been on the brink of perdition, and who
nevertheless have been raised to glory  and immortality-men will dwell with ecstasy on the achievement




XIV.]              AND THE LAMB.                 s27
of the Lamb, and weave that blessed name into their
loftiest measure, and shrine it in their sweetest harmony.
Men may join in angels' hymns; for theirs, too, will be
the enraptured admiration of the Divine Majesty, and
theirs the tribute of high-wrought acknowledgment, as
Deity manifests his wonderfulness, and shows another
height, or another depth, of that which, through eternity,
will still be unsearchable. But angels can take, comparatively, no part in this song of the Lamb. Indeed, as the
triumphant Church pours forth its praises, angels may,
and we are told, they will, chime in with the thrilling
notes, and strike to the same ascriptions their instruments
of music. But the burst of gratitude, the rush of thankful confession, the devotedness of soul breathed into the
swelling peal-these require a personal interest in the
sacrifice of the Lamb; and those only who can say, He
died for us, will be able to throw themselves, as it were,
into the anthem, " Worthy the Lamb that was slain." o
And thus, if it somewhat perplexed us to find that the
song of Moses shall be sung by the Church; if it seemed
like divesting that Church of the sympathies of humanity;
we can, at least, have fellowship with the minstrelsy of
Heaven, now that we hear of another song, and that the
song o; the Lamb. We may feel as though our hearts
must be fresh strung, and our voices tuned, ere we can rise
to the awful gladness of that chant which is to commemorate how the Lord hath beaten down his foes. There may
be kinsmen amongst those foes, our friends, our childrenand nature would now prompt us to the low and melancholy dirge, rather than to the choral ode of such as
exult and are thankful. But "the Song of the Lamb"



278              THE SONG OF MOSES             ELECT,
we seem to know that strain: they are familiar notes; and
the melody with which the celestial temple rings is already
echoed, though feebly and faintly, from the courts of the
earthly. And the combination of song, the blending of
the Song of the Lamb with the Song of Moses, this assures me that the redeemed, though freed from all that is
weak and imperfect, and made equal to the angels in completeness of consecration to God, will retain the warm and
yearning affections which now belong to their nature. The
song that was heard on the Red Sea's shore, when the
Egyptians had sunk like lead in the waters-had this alone
been swept from the golden harps of saints, I might have
thought that these saints had ceased to be men, and were
no longer accessible to emotions by which they had been
stirred whilst on earth. But when I hear further of a song
of thanksgiving for mercies which are now the foremost in
Christian celebration, then I learn that, though sublimely
exalted, the saints are still mene: their hearts are throbbing
with the same gratitude as ours, and we can have companionship with them, and feel them still brothers. Yes,
it might induce the suspicion that all remembrance of
earth had been erased, and man nerved into a stern and
strange superiority to all human feeling, to hear of his exulting in the song of Moses over the lost ones of his race;
but it is like bringing him back into association with ourselves-for David could sing of mercy and judgment-to
give as the full description of the glorified Church, " They
sing the song of Moses, the servant of God, and the song
the Lamb."
"Great and marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty, just and true are thy ways, Thou King of Saints."




XIV.]              AND THE LAMB.                 219
Such is a portion of the lofty anthem. To take this anthem in its largest application, we may say that it celebrates the greatness and the justice of God, as displayed
in the occurrences of the judgment day. And it is well
worth your attention, that these two characteristics shall
be finally declared to have distinguished the whole business
of the judgment. It will be a great and marvellous work,
when the tares shall have been separated from the wheat,
all unrighteousness detected and exposed, the wicked
banished, and the faithful exalted. The spectacle has
never yet been presented to the inhabitants of this earth
so fraught with the manifestations of Omnipotence as shall
be that of the general judgment. What display of power
can equal that which will be given by the resurrection of
the dead, bone coming to bone, the assembling into the
same identical bodies of particles which have been scattered to the four winds of heaven, so that the sea, and the
mountain, and the desert, surrender each its portion of
human elements? And if the gathering together of the
buried generations, reconstructed and reanimated, be the
mightiest imaginable display of God's power over matter,
what shall more declare his power over mind than that
laying bare of all the secrets of men's hearts, on which
the last sentences shall be founded, and by which they
will be justified? Then you must add the portents and
signs which are to herald the Judge; the battalions of
the heavenly hosts which are to line the firmament; the
consternation and trembling which are to seize on all
who have been enemies of Christ; the chastened gladness
and confidence which those will display who feel that He
who sits upon the throne died for them  on the cross-in




280              THE SONG OF MOSES             [LECT.
all this there will be the amazing power of God: I heai
that power in the trumpet and the thunder: that power it
is which is casting down the stout-hearted: I read that
power in the tranquillity of the righteous: the storm and
the calm alike proclaim that Omnipotence is there.
You cannot, then, wonder at the language of the anthem. You cannot fail to acknowledge, even with the
little which can yet be ascertained of the solemn and tremendous things of the judgment, that, if ever confession
were extorted of the almightiness of the Lord, it will be
when the white throne has been set, and the books have
been opened, and the dead, small and great, have received
their portions for eternity. We may have none but most
inadequate notions of what shall be seen and heard when
God holds his great assize in the face of the universe, and
gives scope to each enactment of a retributive economy.
But if the company of the redeemed, of those who have
been acquitted, and accepted, and appointed to a glorious
inheritance, are to stand " on a sea of glass mingled with
fire" —yes, "a sea of glass mingled with fire," for even the
righteous will only be " scarcely saved," so that safety itself will look perilous —and if they are to take into their
hands the harps of God, that they may pass with music
and a song through the gates of the celestial city, I can
feel that, as they behold the desolations which have been
wrought, and think how the arm and the breath of the
Lord have done valiantly, congregating the millions of
human kind, and animating, and dividing them-and all
this amid the tremblings and heavings of creation-oh, I
say, I can feel that the delivered company, on their glassy
and fiery sea, will entertain a sense, such as they never be



XIV.]              AND THE LAMB.                  281
fore had, of what Omnipotence is, and what Omnipotence
can do; and that, therefore, moved by one impulse, every
hand will strike the lyre, and every tongue add its peal to
the chorus of our text, " Great and marvellous are Thy
works, Lord God Almighty!"
But this is not the whole of the chorus-the Church
affirms God's ways to be just and true, as well as his works
to be great and marvellous. And this is a most important
assertion, when considered as called forth by the transactions of the judgment. The judgment will include within
its searchings and its sentences the heathen world as well
as the Christian, men who have had none but the scantiest
portion of revelation, and others who have been blessed
with its fulness. And even in a Christian community
there is the widest difference between the means and
opportunities afforded to different men, some being only
just within sound of the Gospel, and others continually plied with its messages. But all this invests with
great difficulties the business of judgment. It shows that
there must be various standards, one standard for the
heathen, and another for the Christiaa; one for this heathen, or this Christian, another for that. And there is
something overwhelming in the thought that the untold
millions of the human population will undergo an individual scrutiny; that they will come, man by man, to the
bar of their God, and each be tried by his own privileges
and powers. We can hardly put from us the feeling, that,
in so enormous an assize, there will be cases comparatively
overlooked, for which due allowance is not made, or in
which the sentence is not founded on a full estimate of the
circumstances. But, whatever our doubts and suspicious




282              THE SONG OF MOSES             [LECT.
beforehand, "Just and true are thy ways, thou King of
Saints," is the confession, you observe, which will follow the
judgment. It is a confession, we are bold to say, in which
the lost will join with the redeemed. The feeling in, every
condemned man shall be, that, had there been none but
himself to be tried, his case could not have received a
more patient attention, or a more equitable decision.
And we rejoice in hearing the chorus which is chanted
on the glassy and fiery sea.  It tells us that God will
be justified when He speaks, and clear when He judgeth.
As yet I know nothing, whatever I may conjecture, as to
the future and eternal condition of the heathen. I cannot
tell how the subjects of wholly different dispensations are
to be brought to the same bar, and tried by a Judge of
whom thousands amongst them never heard as a Mediator.
But I learn from the anthem of the Church, that, in being
carried on and completed, the last judgment will free itself
from all difficulty and all mystery. The thorough justice of
the whole proceedings will commend itself at once to every
observer: the condemned will be speechless, silence being
their most expressive confession; the approved will weave
their admiration of the equity into the same song with
that of the omnipotence which their God had displayed.
We can be certain, therefore, that, as the righteous go
away into everlasting life, they will carry with them a
triumphant assurance that the Divine dealings with our
race have, all along, done honour to the Divine attributes.
The great white throne will have been as a sun which hath
scattered all darkness, and shed a brilliant illumination
over the vast maps of providence and grace. For our own
part, therefore, what have we to do but meekly to work




XIV.]               AND THE LAMB.                 283
out salvation, not peirplexing ourselves with mysteries too
deep for our present penetration, but only striving that we
may be accepted at the judgment; knowing that then
every cloud will be scattered, and that, so overpowering
will have been the demonstration, on which we shall have
gazed, of the invariable justice, and the immutable faithfulness, of the Lord, that, no sooner shall we have received
the harps of God than we shall strike them in celebration
of the equity and truth of all his ways, " Just and true
are thy ways, O King of Saints.'
We have supposed our text uttered immediately after
the last judgment. No doubt it strictly belongs to an
earlier time, when plagues, analogous, to those which desolated Egypt, shall fall upon the earth, and the great AntiChristian power, which Pharaoh may have typified, shall
be consumed by the might of the Lord. But as, at least,
the text refers to a season when Christ shall have interfered on behalf of his people, and swept away those who
have resisted his authority, there can be nothing wrong in
extending it to the last great interference, the final discomfiture of all the hosts of unrighteousness. And the practical thing to be borne in mind, is, that even now we stand
on a sea of glass mingled with fire. A sea of glass-for
we have no firm footing, and, if we walk not circumspectly,
are certain to fall: of glass mingled with fire; for if we
fall, the surface may give way, and we are plunged into
everlasting burnings. But if it be a sea, on which we
shall hereafter stand, this may denote the boundlessness of
our existence, the depth of our knowledge. The sea may
be of glass, for the floor of heaven may serve as a mirror,
reflecting the majesties of God. There may be fire min



284       THE SONG OF MOSES AND THE LAMB.
gled with the glass, to tell us, that, as fast as the mirror
shows us more of God, there will be kindled within us
a more intense flame of love and admiration. You must
long to walk such a sea as this, to join the orchestra from
which shall proceed the sublime song of Moses and the
Lamb. Then let all be earnest in obeying the precepts,
and appropriating by faith the merits of that Redeemer
who is hereafter to be our judge. There is room for all
on that mysterious sea; there are harps for all in that
mighty orchestra. And, God helping, we may yet all
escape the wrath to come, and when the earth and heavens
flee away from the face of Him that sitteth on the throne,
be found amongst those who shall exult and give thanks,
and enter with melodious measures the kingdom prepared
from the foundation of the world.




LECTURE XV.
w  Biuin  int ng- taffrrig.
2 PrnRa iii 9.
The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to
repentance."
THE Apostle is here arguing against the scoffers, who, as
he tells us, will arise in the last days of this creation, and
who, reasoning from the unbroken course and order of nature, will perversely conclude that no such change can be
approaching as that which prophecy associates with the
second advent of Christ.'Where," say they, "is the
promise of his coming? for since the fathers fell asleep, all
things continue as they were from the beginning of the
creation."  It is not our purpose, on the present occasion,
to go into the statements by which the Apostle refutes the
infidel argument. We know well enough that the unbroken continuance of the present economy is no proof
that the Lord will not come forth from his place in majesty and terror; and we have the sure word of prophecy,
that "the Heavens and the earth, which are now, are
reserved unto fire, against the day of judgment and perdi



286          THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.         [LECT,
tion of ungodly men."  We are satisfied with the assurance that " the Lord is not slack concerning his promise;"
and we only pray that we may be of those who are looking for Christ; seeing that it is unto " them that look for
Him that He shall appear the second time without sin
unto salvation."
But there is a peculiarity in our text on which we wish
to fasten, and which will furnish, as we think, a most interesting subject of discourse. Immediately after asserting
that there is nothing with God of what men count slackness, the Apostle gives a reference to the Divine patience
or long-suffering. Now, suppose I were one of these scoffers, what should I be most inclined to doubt, from observing that God's threatenings did not take effect?  I
suppose, the power of God. I should be inclined to say,
God has threatened what He is not able to perform: hence
the reason why sun, moon, and stars, will rise and set in
their appointed order, why there hath come nothing of the
menaced dislocation of the whole material system. The
power is wanting. Well, if this were my way of arguing,
would it be any answer to me to say, " The Lord is longsuffering to us-wardcl" Yes, indeed it would; there is no
proof of the Divine power so great as the Divine longsuffering. This, my breth.ren, is what we design to endeavour to establish. How beautifully does one of our
Church Collects express this truth, "O God, who declarest
thy Almighty power most chiefly in showing mercy and
pity." And when the spies had brought back an evil report of the promised land, and Moses pleaded with God as
a man would plead for his children, you may remember
that he said, "And now I beseech thee, let the power of




XV.]         THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.          287
my Lord be great, according as thou hast spoken, saying,
The Lord is long-suffering and of great mercy." The idea
of Moses, as gathered from these words, would seem to
have been, that God would then show Himself most powerful when He showed Himself most long-suffering. You
are thus put in possession of the principle which we wish
to establish, and from which we would illustrate the words
of our text. It is simply the principle, that God's patience
is the greatest possible demonstration of God's power.
Let then the scoffer approach in his hardihood. He will
not believe that the earth shall be burned up; that the
sun shall become black as sackcloth of hair, the moon be
turned into blood, and the stars fall from the Heavens; all
this, he says, may have been long ago threatened, but
nothing has come to pass; surely then God is not able to
accomplish his word; ah, say not so, exclaims the Apostle:' The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some
men count slackness:" and in proof that his power is not
deficient, I tell you that He "is long-suffering to us-ward,
not willing that any should perish, but that all should come
to repentance."
Now before beginning to prove to you that the long.
suffering is the great proof of the power of God, we would
observe that this idea is at variance with those most commonly entertained; at least, if not at variance, a mere cursory glance will not show it in harmony. We have only
to make mention of the power of God, and the thoughts
are instantly far away amid the fields of immensity, busying themselves with the accumulations of the workings of
Almightiness, star upon star, and system upon system. It
is our ordinary method, in our endeavours to exhibit this




288          THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.         ELECT.
power, to bid the mind go and travel through the wonders
of materialism. We strive to fix the attention on that
mysterious period, when as yet there was loneliness throughout unbounded space, and the melodies of the Creator's
goings forth alone brake the silences of Eternity. We
then bid the ear hearken to the utterance of a creative
command, and the eye look forth on what just before had
been one vast void; and as the countless company of glorious worlds start into being, we require the spectator to
fall prostrate, and to worship God under the name of
Omnipotent. And from the fact of creation we pass on
to that of preservation. We tell you that the enormous
and complicated machinery of the universe is superintended and upheld by God; that there is not a single
wheel, in all the inscrutable combinations, which is not
made to revolve by his pervading energies; and that the
very weakest and meanest amongst those tribes of living
things, whose number puts to shame all finite arithmetic,
is so dependent for the existence of each moment on the
Author of its being, that to suppose it overlooked or forgotten is to suppose it, on the instant, paralyzed or extinguished.
And far be it from us to imply that such a method of
demonstrating the power of God is other than correct. It
were well if familiarity with the wonders of the visible
universe did not produce in us apathy to the impressions
which they are calculated to make. If the creation around
us exerted over us its legitimate influence, practical, as
well as professed, infidelity would be banished from the
earth; the necessary consequence on our continually recognising the might of Jehovah, in the various objects of the




XV.]         THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.         289
encompassing scenery, must be that our cities and villages
would be wholly possessed by an awe-struck and God-fearing population. But it would appear to be possible, that,
whilst searching through the universe for evidences of the
power of God, we may pass by a more signal demonstration
lying individually in ourselves. We speak not of the testimony which is undoubtedly given by the construction of
our bodies, and by the surprising manner in which the material encloses the immaterial. We are indeed fearfully
and wonderfully made; and if a man be not hardened
against proof, it will be enough, when debate turns on the
power of God, to send him to himself, and he must own
Him omnipotent. But there may be an evidence which is
still more overpowering; and that, too, an evidence which
each may fetch from his own experience, and his own history. Towards each of us there has been the exercise of
long-suffering on the part of the Almighty. Each of us
has provoked the wrath of the Lord; and yet upon none
of us has that wrath, as yet, come down in its fury. So
that, if the great demonstration of God's power be God's
long-suffering, then each amongst us may find in himself
that demonstration in all its completeness. And thus it
may be of all things the most possible, that, after dwelling
amazedly on the stupendous achievements which God hath
wrought in producing and actuating the systems of the
universe; after summoning planets, and suns, and seas, and
mountains to give in their tribute of acknowledgment to
the might of Him who " spake and it was done, who commanded and they stood fast;" oh, we say, it is of all things
the most possible, that angels may be looking down upon
myself as the crowning point of proof,-and not because
19




290          THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.        [LECTI am marvellous as the compound of matter and spirit, of
mortal and immortal; and not because I inherit a nature
which hath been taken into absolute union with the Divine; but because I have sinned, and yet breathe; because
I have defied the living God, and the earth has not
cleaved, and the torrent has not rushed, and the bolt has
not fallen; because I have been long-offending, and God
has been long-suffering-therefore may they regard me as
out and out the most perfect demonstration that the power
of their Lord is great; and assign me, because spared in
mine offences, a place amongst the witnesses to the Almightiness of their Maker, which they give not to the marchings
of planets, nor to the gorgeousness of light, nor to their
own beauty as ethereal things, and rapid, and masterful.
And we think that it will conduce to your allowing the
truth of our position, as to the long-suffering of God being
the great evidence of his power, if you dwell for a while
on the difficulty which even the holiest of men experience
in dealing with the workers of unrighteousness. We will
refer, first, to a case of most common occurrence, and we
think to carry the mind of every hearer along with us,
whilst describing it, and drawing from it our inferences.
If you walk the streets of our crowded metropolis, you
meet often with exhibitions of wickedness which call up
your instant indignation. It may be that some reprobate
fellow-creature is fearfully blaspheming the name of your
God; or that he is tyrannizing over some weaker one of
his race; or that he is acting with great cruelty towards
an animal. You know that you cannot hear him, or cannot see him, without feeling your passions vehemently ex
cited; and the uppermost wish in your minds is that of




XV.]         THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.          291
being able to restrain him and punish him. In that most
common instance, when you observe the ill-using of the
brute creation-we suppose that you have all felt that
scarce repressible anger, which leads you to desire to inflict
on the man of cruelty something of the same pain which
he is wantonly causing to his horse or his dog. There is
nothing, we think, clearer than that it is only the want of
power which prevents a summary vengeance: so that, if
you could follow your feelings, you would punish the
offender on the spot, and account, that in so doing, you did
only what was commendable. And we are not about to
enter into any examination of the right or the wrong of
the feeling; we simply wish to assert that such a feeling
exists, and to make the existence a groundwork of argument. It appears that we have to put a great constraint
on ourselves, when we behold an act of oppression; and
that, after all, we swallow  down our indignation, not
because we determine by a moral effort to repress it, but,
rather, because there are hindrances which stand in the
way of our giving it vent. If these hindrances were removed, it may be doubted, whether, in one case out of a
hundred, we should not directly interfere to deliver the
oppressed, and chastise the oppressor. So that we should
possibly find it of all things the hardest, to show ourselves
long-suffering; and the effort which it would be to us, with
the power in our hands, and the indignation in our breasts,
to pass on and leave the savage undisturbed in his brutality, this is not to be described, and not even, perhaps,
imagined.
And now let us carry up your thoughts from ourselves
to God. You observe that the spectacle of the working




292          THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.         [LECT
of evil produces within us the most painful emotions, and
that the immediate impulse, even of the best regulated
mind, is towards the punishing, if possible, the offender.
But we ask you to remember that the spectacle which thus
moves the holy wrath, if we may so term it, of the creature, is present in all its aggravations to the Creator.
With a hatred of sin, which outruns our conceptions, and
much more our imitation, God is looking down on every
misdoing by which the earth is polluted; so that, mysterious as it may seem, He who so abhors evil that He is declared to be of purer eyes than to behold it, is present at
the perpetration of each species of crime, standing by the
blasphemer, whilst pouring out his curses, and by the mur
derer, whilst bearing down on his victim. If this fact be
pondered, it must almost startle and confound us. God,
who is so holy that the least moral blot on a creation
would be reason enough with Him why that creation should
at once be destroyed, God, so to speak, is at the side of
every transgressor, when, by his transgressions, he disobeys
and defies Him. And yet He strikes not. Present in the
holiness which abhors sin; present in the might which can
punish sin; and yet, as though the sinner were left at liberty to work out, unnoticed and unrecompensed, his iniquities, lo, the hater of sin, and the avenger of sin, puts no
arrest on that which He abominates, and deals out no
punishment against that which He denounces.
We call it an amazing fact, one that is most staggering
to a finite intelligence. But why so? wherein lies its surpassing strangeness? simply, we think, in this.  The
Creator is brought before us, as exhibiting what we ourselves, under any the like circumstances, could scarcely




XV.]          THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.          293
exhibit-long-suffering. We just ask you to imagine a
sensitive and tender-hearted man, standing by whilst some
monster of his species was foully ill-treating a fellowcreature or an animal. Suppose him possessed of the
most perfect ability of putting a stop to the cruelty, and
awarding due punishment. The first impulse would be to
exercise this ability. And if, in place of yielding to the
impulse, he should reflect within himself, If I spare this
guilty one awhile, if I visit not upon him on the instant
his iniquity, he may possibly repent, and see the vileness
of his conduct, and grow more humane; why, we do not
deny that, by a great effort, the reflection might carry it
over the impulse, the man might pass on, and, in the hope
of a future amendment, resolve to administer no present
correction. We allow that there is no actual impossibility
against the exercise of such a forbearance. But we think
you will all agree that a vast effort would be needed for
the repressing the feelings; and that, if we were spectators of this deferring of vengeance, we should either
join in an outcry at the hard-heartedness of him who
displayed the long-suffering, or confess that a mastery
had been won over the spirit, which might justly obtain
for the achiever a lofty place amongst the heroes of mankind.
Now we readily admit that the things of God are not
to be judged of by comparison with the things of men.
Therefore we do not exactly say, that because long-suffering would prove great power in ourselves, it must necessarily prove great power in our Maker. But we may
carry the argument from human feeling thus far, at least,
if no further. We may state that nothing would show




294          THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.         [LECT.
greater power in a creature, holy enough to abhor evil,
and possessed of ability to punish it, than the exercise of
forbearance. We may then fairly go on to assert, that, in
proportion as both the holiness and ability increase, the
forbearance more and more manifests the power. So that,
if we are not yet in the position to infer that God shows
his power most, when He shows Himself long-suffering,
we may certainly perceive that there is nothing in such an
inference which ought to strike us as strange, seeing it is
only what we might arrive at by carrying up our inquiry
through successive ranks of being.  Long-suffering is
power over one's self. If then it be reverent so to speak,
God's long-suffering is God's power over Himself; and
assuredly God's power over Himself must be greater than
the power which IHe puts forth, when He deals with what
is material and finite.
We may have all read of such instances as of a man,
in the hardihood of his atheism, challenging, so to speak,
the Deity to prove his existence by striking him to the
earth. "If there be a God, let Him show Himself by
smiting me His denier."  Now, you can hardly picture to
yourselves a being exercising over himself so perfect a
command, that, with all the apparatus of fiery reply at
his disposal, he should not answer the challenge by levelling him, who utters it, with the ground. Can you measure
to me the effort, which it would be to a creature, to keep
the thunder silent, and to chain up the lightning? Yet
the atheist is allowed to depart unscathed; and the proof
of God's existence, which would have seemed pre-eminently
calculated to overspread a neighbourhood with terrible
conviction, is mysteriously withheld; so that the blas



XV.]          THE DIVINE LONG SUFFERING.         295
phemer can insultingly refer to his own fierce appeal, as
bearing witness that there is either no God, or none who
concerns himself with what is done on this earth. But
what lesson does the believer in a God derive from this
absence of all answer to the daring appeal? We tell you
that he learns God's might a hundredfold more from the
unbroken silence of the firmament than he would do from
the hoarse tones of vengeance rushing down to the destruction of the rebel. The atheist overthrown-this is as
nothing to the exhibition of the atheist spared. It would
have been as nothing that God should have launched the
bolt-the prodigy, the marvel, whose height I cannot
scale, whose depth I cannot fathom, it is that God should
have withheld the bolt. I should have learnt God powerful over the elements, had I seen the blasphemer stretched,
a blackened corpse, at my feet: I learn God powerful over
Himself, when the questioner of his Deity passes on uninjured. A finite being might have struck: I think that
none but an infinite could forbear. So that, if you give
yourselves to the careful examination of the case, you must
allow that in no voice could there have been so much
Divinity as in silence.  The atheist demands that God
should show Himself by punishing: the Christiar. perceives that God shows Himself by forbearing. ADnd if
from this display of unavenged blasphemy, the believer
should betake himself to argument with any scoffer, who,
like those who are to deform the last days of our creation,
would plead the delay in the accomplishment of threaii,;rlings in evidence of a want of the power to execute, oh,
would he not feel that the best answer to a doubt as to
God's power might be fetched from God's patience, and




296          THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.          [LECT
that he could say nothing better than that "God is longsuffering towards us, not willing that any should perish,"
when he would substantiate to the scorner the important
proposition, " The Lord is not slack concerning his promise,
as some men count slackness?"
But we wish to show you more precisely that, in the
long-suffering of God, lies the great proof of his power.
We must take care not so to dwell on God's bearing with
his creatures, and leaving them  unvisited in their misdoings, as to forget that the deferring of punishment has no
connection with the diminishing it, that the allowing sin
to go on for years unvisited, involves no pledge of the final
remission, of its penalties. We shall probably arrive at
right apprehensions of God's long-suffering, as connected
with God's other attributes, if we carefully review these
two facts-first of all, that God can punish every sin, and
secondly, that God can pardon every sin. It is essential
to the long-suffering of God, that each of these assertions
should, in the largest sense, hold good. Unless there is
the power of punishing, there can be no long-suffering; for
long-suffering necessarily presupposes, that a being, who
might on the instant take vengeance, passes over for a
while the iniquity.  On the other hand, unless God can
pardon every sin, what is there in his long-suffering? We
can have no idea of long-suffering, except as is expressed
in our text-that it is the bearing with an offender, in
order that, time being given him to consider his ways, he
may yet, by repentance, turn away punishment. And if,
then, we can satisfactorily show that God is pre-eminently
powerful, inasmuch as He is both the punisher and the
pardoner of sin, we shall have established the point under




XV.]         THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.           29?
debate, that God's long-suffering is the great measure of
his power.
Look, then, at the punishment of sin-you will readily
admit that it is proving God powerful, to prove Him superior to every creature; so that, were the whole universe
banded against Him, there would be no way made in
entrenching on his sovereignty. But how can we more
thoroughly assure ourselves of God's superiority to every
creature, than by ascertaining that over every creature
which swerves from  obedience, God can exercise the
office of avenger? There is nothing parallel to this
in the furthest carrying out of human authority. The
subject may revolt from the ruler, and prosecute his treason
so successfully as to wrench the crown from its rightful
possessor. And it were absurd to talk of the ruler as
long-suffering, unless he have the power of seizing the
traitor, and do not exercise it. If, then, the whole earth
were brought under the sway of a single sceptre, you
could not better sketch this universal supremacy than by
saying of him who held it, that long-suffering was his
characteristic. For if the seat of this unlimited empire
were in England, and there came tidings of revolt in Asia
or America, then, if I could assign as the reason why such
revolt was not instantly checked, that the monarch was
long-suffering, I should certainly imply, that, if the monarch chose to put forth his might, he could immediately
quell these insurrections in far distant provinces. It is
only possible for him to be long-suffering, on the supposition, that, if he will, he may instantly punish. Thus also
with God. Whatever the creature which apostatizes from
God, whether standing high or low in the scale of intellib




298          THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.          [LEcT.
gence, beyond all question, the power of God can reach
and restrain and crush this creature. It may, indeed, be
that the creature is permitted to go on in rebellion, and
that thus no direct evidence is given of the supremacy of
God. And it might be that rebellion would run along
every order of being, and God be opposed by the whole
body of his creatures, and those creatures be left, to all
appearance, alone, to frame their schemes, and wage their
battles.  Wherein, then, would lie the proof of God's
power? Simply, in God's long-suffering. Long-suffering is
the greatest exhibition of power on this side the day of
judgment. It is our evidence that God now possesses all
that God shall then exercise. And when I am told that
God is long-suffering, and no limitations are placed on the
attribute, you bring before me a picture as overpowering
in its details, as stupendous in its outlines. I see at once,
that, if God be long-suffering, then God can punish every
sin. What then? vice may seem to carry it over virtue;
and I may search in vain, through all that is passing on a
disordered creation, for tokens that a moral government is
still upheld in its vigour; and the infidel may tauntingly
refer to the triumph of evil, and infer that God has been
compelled to abandon one world at least to the dominion
of his foes; but, fastening on the long-suffering of the
Creator, I am proof against all doubts as to the power of
the Creator: H-Ie could not be long-suffering unless He
could punish: He could not punish unless he were supreme.
And then observe, secondly, that God can pardon every
sin. Of all extraordinary truths, perhaps the most extraordinary is, that sin can be forgiven. We may have
accustomed ourselves to think lightly of sin: if we would




XV.]          THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.          299
be honest in searching our feelings, we should probably
confess ourselves surprised at the vehement terms in which
it is characterized. Yet, let reason herself sit in quiet and
undisturbed judgment upon sin, and her verdict would be
that sin is unpardonable. We were bound, as creatures, to
serve God with all our faculties, whether of body or soul.
And if we swerve, in a single particular, from this uniform
consecration, we have kept back a fraction, no matter how
trifling, of the tribute due from us to God; and though,
for long after years, there might be no fresh deficiency,
still, since God's right is to all at all times, the obedience
of a century could never make up the arrears of a moment.
Thus there must be always an outstanding debt; and unless
God's justice shall relax in its claims-unless, that is, God
shall cease to be God- there is no discernible mode in
which the debt can be discharged; so that reason, sitting
in judgment on the very lightest of sins, must be driven to
the conclusion that sin is unpardonable. And if the providing, or making possible, a pardon for sin, be exactly
that which would have seemed to us impossible, we may
fairly take the pardon, when planned and perfected, as the
highest demonstration of the power of God. That, which
reason would have decided impossible to be effected, becomes, when effected, the noblest of all proofs of the power
of the Accomplisher.
I do not know that there is any other work of the
Creator, whose performance, if beforehand submitted to
reason, would have been judged to be impossible. Even
had man stood alone, the solitary result of the creative
energies of God, his reason, judging from the magnificence
of his own constitution, would have decided that an uni



300          THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.         [LECT.
verse, unmeasured in its sweep, and full, to the overflow, of
the sublime and the beautiful, might arise at the bidding
of Him whose word had already given life. It would
have seemed possible to man, whilst surrounded by no
tokens of God's wonder-working might, thrown on the
evidences of his own flesh and spirit-it would, we say,
have seemed possible to man, the single inhabitant, save the
Eternal One Himself, of immensity, that innumerable
worlds, each possessed by an innumerable tenantry, should
start out of nothingness and walk the firmament in a
bright and rejoicing companionship. And thus creation is
not to man the greatest demonstration of God's power.
Creation does not go beyond what reason would have
thought possible; and it is only the pardon of sin which
reason, unaided in her search, would have set down as impossible. Reason, uninformed as to the possibility of God
becoming man, must have pronounced the impossibility of
God forgiving transgression. And is it not most accurate
to say, that the achievement, which man would have accounted impossible, is a stronger proof to him of the
power of the Achiever, than any other which his own
calculations would have classed amongst the possible? So
that we set it before you as not to be controverted, that
the fact that God can pardon sin contains the strongest of
all evidences to the power of God. And forasmuch as the
long-suffering of God takes for granted that God can pardon sin, it follows that God's long-suffering is the very
mightiest demonstration of God's power.
It may be a bold thing to say; but, if you examine
carefully, you will see that there is a strong sense in which
it may be said, that long-suffering is not natural to God.




XV.]         THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.         301
ZNo, not natural. For was God long-suffering without an
effort?  Could He be long-suffering without preparation?
He could be long-suffering only as He had resolved to give
up his well-beloved Son to the fiercest of agonies and the
foulest of wrongs. He could be long-suffering, only as a
covenant had been entered into, that, in the fulness of
times, He who was from all eternity his equal would assume the rebellious nature of the fallen, and fight therein
a battle in which victory must be death. He could be
long-suffering, only if He would bow the Heavens, and
surrender a Divine person to the scorn and the loathing of
men.  And He did this.  He bade the sword awake
against his fellow; and, rendering it possible, through the
sacrifice of his Son, that sin might be forgiven, He rendered it also possible that Himself could be long-suffelring.
And when I think on the difference between God's creating a world, and God's pardoning a sin-the one done
without effort, the other demanding an instrumentality
terribly sublime; the one effected by a word, the other
wrought out in agony and blood, on a quaking earth and
beneath a darkened heaven-oh, the world created is as
nothing by the side of the sin blotted out: that God can
pardon is at the very summit of what is wonderful; and
therefore then, 0 Lord, do I most know Thee as the
Omnipotent, when I behold in Thee the long-suffering.
We have shown you that, if God be long-suffering, He
can punish every sin, and He can pardon every sin; and
arguing supremacy in power, both from the punishment
and the pardon, we bring home to you the conclusion, that
the supremacy is shown by the long-suffering. And thus,
f'o recur once more to the statement of our text, let the




302          THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.        [LECT,
scorner come forward and object, that the threatenings of
God must hitherto have failed of fulfilment, because the
power of God is not adequate to their execution, then I
shall not point him to the marvels of creation, to the stars,
and the forests, and the mountains, in order to display to
him that power which he questions or denies: I shall say
to him, "The Lord is not slack concerning his promise,
as some men count slackness;" and I shall think it enough
to rebuke all suspicion as to the slackness resulting from
weakness, to add, "He is long-suffering to us-ward, not
willing that any should perish, but that all should come to
repentance."
Now, we trust you will all carry with you the idea which
we have been most anxious to exhibit, that it is chiefly in
showing Himself long-suffering that God shows Himself
powerful. Take any other instance of power, and you can,
perhaps, imagine a greater. Point out to me the sun, and
I may suppose a yet mightier luminary, rejoicing as a giant
to run a race. Point out to me the stars, and I may suppose a yet more brilliant troop walking the magnificent
canopy. But tell me of forbearance, of long-suffering, of
patience, and you tell me of a power (if it be not paradoxical thus to speak) which is greater than infinite. God
delaying to take vengeance is God showing his power over
Himself, power, that is, over the Omnipotent. So that we
can well understand how the patience may be connected
with the power of God, as though the one attribute were
the great cause or evidence of the other. That the Divine
Being can be insulted and not avenge Himself; that He
can be defied, blasphemed, and not at once strike down
the daring offenders; that, day after day, year after year,




XV.]         THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.           303
He can suffer the wicked to go on in their wickedness, their
every action showing scorn of Him, their every word
hatred; and yet, that, all the while, He has engines at
his disposal through which He might turn them into terrible monuments of his righteous indignation-oh, there is
far greater demonstration of might in this, than in any of
those exhibitions, to which men ordinarily refer, when they
would declare the supremacy of God: every one of us, a
living thing, and yet a sinful, outdoes the earth with all
its wonders, and the firmament with all its hosts, in proving
the Creator surpassing in his strength.
We must make a close and practical application of so
surprising a fact, even though we should but repeat our
foregoing statements. Children though ye be of weakness,
and heirs of corruption, we may address you in terms
loftier than we could dare apply to the sun when marching
in his brightness, or to the gorgeous retinue of the deep
rich midnight. Monuments the most illustrious of the
might of the Almighty, I speak to you as to beings upon
whom are gathered the regards of the Angel and the
Archangel. That you are still amongst the living; that it
has been possible for you to be rebellious, days and weeks
and months and years; that you have been spared to
insult God, to receive his favours with coldness, to break
his commandments, to make light of his threatenings, to
put contempt on his promises-wh ere is the prodigy which
can half as much amaze the holy creatures who have held
fast their allegiance? Each amongst us is a witness that
God is long-suffering, and therefore that God is Omnipotent.
But what use have we made of the Divine long-suffer



304          THE DIVINE LONG-SUFFERING.
ing? to what purpose have we turned it?  Have we
reason to account with the Apostle that the "long-suffering of God is salvation?" has it led us to repentance?
Would that it might be so. God bears with us in love,
not in wrath; bears with us, because it is yet possible that
we may escape from death, and enter into life. In God's
long-suffering I read this fact, salvation is within reach of
all whom I address. He does not spare you to increase
your condemnation: perish the thought: He spares you
only because yet there is hope, yet there is grace, yet there
is room; and all-which of you can be willing to be left
out? —all may be sheltered, when the storm of wrath is in
the Heavens, and the sheet of fire round the earth. Let
us take heed, therefore, in the words of St. Paul, that we
"despise not the riches of his goodness and forbearance and
long-suffering, not knowing that the goodness of God
leadeth us to repentance." Long-suffering, as we have
shown you, proves power in two ways-as presupposing
that God can punish sin, and also that God can pardon
sin. There is, therefore, encouragement in long-suffering;
but, at the same time, there is warning. It forbids any to
despair: it allows none to presume. Since God spares me,
I know that He can punish; and, therefore, I might be
startled at my very preservation. But I know also, on the
same account, that God can pardon; and, therefore, let me
flee to Him through Christ, whilst He may still be addressed in the already quoted words of our Collect, " 0 God,
who declarest thy Almighty power most chiefly in showing
mercy and pity."




LECTURE XVI.
MARK iv. 26-29.
"And He said, So is the Kingdom of God, as if a man should cast seed into the ground;
and should sleep, and rise night and day, and the seed should spring and grow up,
he knoweth not how. For the earth bringeth forth fiuit of herself; first the blade,
then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear. But when the fruit is brought forth,
immediately he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come."
You  are  all,  no  doubt,  aware  that  the  phrase  "the
Kingdom of God," or "the Kingdom of Heaven," with
which so many of our Lord's parables are introduced,
denotes ordinarily the Gospel dispensation, or the Divine
method  of dealing  under  the  covenant of  grace.   In
general, these parables have a twofold signification: they
delineate the Gospel, either as making way in the world,
or as acting on an individual. The remarkable parable,
which we have just read to you, would most probably
admit this double interpretation: it may be, that is, that
the history of the Church as a body, and the history of
every believer in particular, illustrates, or is illustrated by,
the figurative sketch here given of the sowing of the seed,
and of the springing of the blade. We shall not, however, attempt so lengthened an inquiry. We will confine
20




306                SOWING THE SEED.              [LECT.
ourselves to the individual case; and, without further
preface, we ask your close attention, whilst we examine
how the kingdom of God is like unto seed cast into the
ground, and which springeth up, the man knoweth not
how; and then, with what truth it can be said, that, when
the fruit is brought forth, the sickle is immediately put in,
because the harvest is come.
Now you observe that the parable under review derives,
like many others, its figures from the processes of agriculture. When the husbandman has once cast the seed into
the ground, there is little or nothing more that he can do
towards ensuring a harvest. He will therefore employ
himself on other business, leaving to the vegetating powers
of the seed, and the influences of the sun and the shower,
the covering his fields with the rich livery of plenty. It is
this representation which is furnished by the first two
verses of the parable. The kingdom of God is likened to
a man who casts seed into the ground, and then sleeps, and
rises night and day-that is, betakes himself to other
occupations-and the seed springs and grows up, he knoweth not how. He has nothing to do with the seed after he
has sown it. Nay, in place of being able to help on the
springing up of the corn, he is profoundly ignorant of the
secret operations of nature; there is not to him a greater
mystery than that of the buried grain reproducing itself,
a hundredfold multiplied.
WVe have in this a most simple, yet striking, representation of the business, and, at the same time, of the helplessness, of the spiritual husbandman. Unto the ministers
of the Gospel, who are the great moral labourers in the
field of the world, there is entrusted the task of preparing




XVI.]              SOWING THE SEED.                 307
the soil, and of casting in the seed. And if they bring to
this task all the fidelity and all the diligence of intent and
single-eyed labourers; if they strive to make ready the
ground by leading men to clear away the weeds of an unrighteous practice, and to apply the spade and ploughshare
of a resistance to evil, and a striving after good; and if,
then, by a faithful publication of the grand truths of the
Gospel, they throw in the seed of the word; they have
reached the boundary of their office, and also of their
strength; and are to the full as powerless to the making
the seed germinate, and send forth a harvest, as the husbandman to the causing the valleys to stand thick with
corn. And, indeed, in the spiritual agriculture, the power
of the husbandman is even more circumscribed than in the
natural. With all the pains, with which a minister of
Christ may ply at the duties of his office, he can never be
sure that the ground is fit for receiving the grain: he
must just do always what the tiller of the natural soil
is never reduced to do, run the risk of casting the seed
upon the rock, or of leaving it to be devoured by the
fowls of the air.
So that, after all, the office of a minister of the Gospel,
though the very noblest with which man can be charged,
is, in every respect, singularly limited. It is not the office
of the sculptor who takes the rude block, and, fashioning
it, day by day, with industry and skill, leaves it not till it
emulates the loveliness of life. It is not the office of the
artisan, who, with his apparatus of tools, and his assemblage of material, toils sedulously at his occupation —
each portion of the work depending equally on his care
and his handicraft-till the finished piece of mechanism




308               SOWING THE SEED.               ELECT
counts the hours, and tells the minutes. The minister of
Christ can do little more than scatter the seed; and he
may live and die altogether ignorant, whether much, or
whether any, have sprung up into a harvest of righteousness. And even if he be privileged to behold the ground
covered with a luxurious produce, he cannot be said to
have been otherwise instrumental to so -beautiful a result,
than as having strewed the earth with the grain entrusted
to him by the great Proprietor of the soil. To him, as
well as to the natural husbandman, the vegetation of the
seed will ever be a deep and impenetrable mystery. It
springs and grows up, "he knoweth not how." Wonderful and unapproachable is the Creator in all his dealings;
but in none more so than in the conversion and renewal
of sinners. There can be no question, that the method,
which He ordinarily employs, is the preaching of the
word. You come to the sanctuary week after week; and
this gathering together of the children of immortality
presents the surface on which the husbandman is to
labour. And, if he be faithful to the work entrusted to
his performance, he brings out, from the granary of Scripture, the seeds of wholesome truth and pregnant doctrine;
and, with prayer unto Him, who can alone give the increase, casts them on the ground which he hath been
appointed to cultivate.
And it may be, that, though a vast quantity of this
seed falls by the wayside, and is utterly lost, whilst another portion, deposited on a light and insufficient soil,
sends up quickly a produce which as quickly withers, yet
some is received into a well-prepared heart, and there
waits the influence of the shower and the sunshine. But




XVI.]             SOWING THE SEED.                309
who shall scrutinize that agency by which the word is
applied to the conscience? Who shall explain how, after
weeks, it may be, or months, or even years, during which
the seed has lain buried, there will often but unexpectedly
come a moment when the preached word shall rise up in
the memory, and a single text, long ago heard, and to all
appearance forgotten, overspread the soul with the big
thoughts of eternity? It is a mystery, which far transcends all our power of investigation, how spirit acts upon
spirit; so that, whilst there are no outward tokens of an
applied machinery, there is going on within a mighty
operation, even the effecting a moral achievement which
far surpasses the stretch of all finite ability. We are so
accustomed to that change which takes place in a sinner's
conversion, that we do not ascribe to it, in right measure,
its characteristic of wonderful. Yet wonderful, most wonderful, it is-wonderful in the secrecy of the process, wonderful in the nature of the result. I can understand a
change wrought upon matter.  I have no difficulty in
perceiving that the same substance may be presented
under quite different aspects; and that mechanical and
chemical powers may make it pass through a long series
of transformations. But where is the mechanism which
shall root from  the heart the love of sin? where the
chemistry which shall so sublimate the affections that they
will mount towards God?  It is this internal revolution,
which we have no power of scrutinizing except in its
effects. "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou
hearest the sound thereof; but canst not tell whence it
cometh, nor whither it goeth; so is every one that is born
of the Spirit." We observe that some thorough change




310               SOWING THE SEED.               [LEcT.
has been effected. The things, which were once delighted
in, are now shunned; whilst those, which were disliked,
are cherished as most precious. There is a clear and direct
opposition to the desires and inclinations which were formoerly and naturally uppermost; whilst motives, by which
humanity seems ordinarily incapable of being stirred,
operate overpoweringly on every faculty and feeling. But
if we would look in, and behold the appliances by which
this change is wrought out; if we would survey, as it were,
spirit handling spirit, refreshing, remoulding, or, rather,
actually recreating it-oh, it were even easier to dive into
the secrecies of nature, and investigate, with curious accuracy, what goes on in her hidden laboratories, than, by all
the strivings of thought, to imagine to ourselves this life.
giving process.
The mystery is great of the natural seed, which must
rot in the earth, and become, to all appearance, wasted and
worthless, before it can reward with an increase the husbandman's anxieties.  "That which thou sowest is not
quickened, except it first die." But the mystery of the
spiritual seed-a solitary verse, it may be, sinking, unobserved and unfelt, into the heart; lying there, unperceived
or unregarded, whilst evil passions are still holding their
court, and carrying on their revelry; and then, sending
out suddenly fibres and roots, which occupy the space, and
twine themselves, like chains, round the former possessors
— this, though it be taking place every day, so that long
usage has familiarized us to the fact, remains, to every
inquiring  and  right-thinking mind, amongst the most
inapproachable of marvels; and the simple verdict of the
parable contains the decision of all who pour forth their




XVI.]              SOWING THE SEED.               311
attention on this moral prodigy, "It springs, and. grows
up, he knoweth not how."
But, if we are ignorant of the method, we are well acquainted with the result. The parable goes on to describe
this result. "The earth," it saith, " bringeth forth fruit of
herself"-not through the skill of the tiller, but through
virtues wherewith God hath endowed it-" first the blade,
then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear." You
have here an account of successive stages of Christian experience. There is first the convert in the young days of
hisgodliness-the green blade, just breaking through the
soil, and giving witness to the germinations of the seed.
This is ordinarily a season of great promise. We have
not, and we look not for, the rich fruits of a matured and
well-disciplined piety. But we have a glowing and verdant profession. Every thing looks freshly. The young
believer scarcely calculates on any interruptions; and, as
though there were no blighting winds, no nipping frosts,
and no sweeping hail, to be expected and feared in the
spiritual agriculture, the tender shoot rises from the ground,
and glistens in the sunshine.
Next comes the ear; and this is the season of weariness
and watching. Sometimes there will be a long interval, without any perceptible growth. Sometimes the corn will look
sickly, as though blasted by the mildew. Sometimes the
storm will rush over it, and almost level it with the earth.
And all this takes place in the experience of the Christian.
The spiritual husbandmen, and the natural, have the like
anxieties in observing the ear, of which they have sown the
seed. How slow is sometimes the growth in grace! how
slight are the tokens of life! how yellow and how drooping




312               SOWING THE SEED.              [LECT.
the corn! The sudden gust of temptation, the fatal blight
of worldly associations, the corroding worm of indwelling
corruption-all these may tell powerfully and perniciously
on the rising crop, so that often there shall scarcely
seem reason to hope that any fruit will finally be yielded.
Who would recognise in the lukewarm, and dilatory, and
half and half professor, the ardent, and active, and resolute
convert?  Who would know in the stunted and shrivelled
ear, the green blade which had come up, like an emerald
shoot?  We do not indeed say, that in every case, there
will be these grievous interruptions and declensions.'You
may find instances, wherein godliness grows uniformly,
and piety advances steadily and even rapidly towards perfection. A Christian will sometimes ripen for Heaven, as
though, in place of being exposed to the cold air, and the
wild rain, he had been treated as an exotic, and always
kept under shelter. But generally even with those who
maintain the most consistent profession, the earing time is
a season of anxiety and uncertainty: and if it were not
that there are gracious promises, assuring him that the
bruised reed shall not be broken, nor the smoking flax
quenched, often must the spiritual husbandman mourn
bitterly over the apparent disappointment of all his best
hopes, and surrender himself to the fear, that, when the
great day of harvest breaks on this creation, the field
which had once worn that lovely enamel, which gives fair
promise of an abundant ingathering, will yield nothing to
the reapers but the dry and parched stalks, fit only to be
bound in bundles for the burning.
" Every plant," said Jesus, "which my heavenly Father
hath not planted, shall be rooted up;" and we believe also




XVI.]             SOWING THE SEED.              313
in the converse of this saying, that every plant which God
hath planted, shall at last yield fruit as a plant of righteousness and renown. It is not every blade which springs
from the agriculture in which God Himself is the husbandman. The seed sown by the wayside, yields a blade.
But the blade does not go on to become the ear; conviction does not deepen into conversion. This then is not the
renewing work of the Holy Ghost; every blade which
God Himself causes to spring, He causes also to grow till
fit for the sickle. The growth may be hindered as we
have explained to you; and there will necessarily be uneasiness in those who are watching it, lest, after all, the
planting be not of the Lord. But God has his eye on his
own field, and the parable next declares, that when the
fruit is brought forth, or when the fruit is ripe, immediately He putteth in the sickle. There is no marked
change of agency; though it is certain that the sower and
the reaper are not strictly the same. God however is
Himself the husbandman; and though He may act in one
part by man, and in another by angels, the idea of his
supremacy and superintendence must always be preserved,
as it is by the language before us.
God then putteth in the sickle so soon as the fruit is
ripe. No believer is left upon earth, after he is ready for
Heaven. We are often inclined to wonder that trial after
trial should be allotted to Christians, who seem to us much
further advanced than others who have been gathered to
their rest. When we look upon aged believers who appear
to have been long ago fitted to depart hence, and to be
with the Lord, we almost marvel that they are not called
home, and that God still exercises them by a discipline of




314               SOWING THE SEED.               [LECT.
affliction. But of this we may be sure —the ear is not full,
otherwise it would be plucked. We are poor judges of
meetness, or fitness, for the inheritance of the saints in
light. And there is such a difference, a natural difference,
between the subjects of grace, that the amount of discipline which fully prepares one, may leave another with a
vast deal to be done. The resistance of some hearts is unspeakably greater than that of others. The churlish, and
rugged, and irritable dispositions will require more time
ere they are subdued by religion, than the amiable, and
mild, and forgiving. Besides, all are not intended for the
same eminence in glory. There are to be degrees of
happiness; and these we doubt not will be proportioned
to degrees of holiness. And it were therefore most rash,
if we decided the amount of fitness for death; seeing that,
if prepared for one degree of enjoyment, there are higher
and nobler, for which long years of fresh trial and warfare
would still leave us unprepared. One believer is cut off in
the prime of his natural strength, whilst another lingers on
through a weary winter, and overpasses the natural age of
mankind. Both when they die are fit for Heaven; and
neither attains that fitness until the hour of dissolution;
"when the fruit is brought forth, immediately he putteth
in the sickle."
So that we have no other feeling, when standing by the
sick bed of one who has been enabled to fix faith upon
Christ, but that there is fruit before us which is rapidly
ripening, but which, however it may strike us as already
wearing the golden hue of maturity, is not yet ripe. We
do not say that any defined period must necessarily elapse
between justification and salvation. It is out of all ques



XVI.]              SOWING THE SEED.                 315
tion, that, whensoever a justified man dies, he enters into
Heaven.  But if there were needed fresh argument to
demonstrate the improbabilities of death-bed repentance,
we should fetch it from  the Scriptural fact, that, after
we are justified, there must be inwrought in us a fitness
for glory. It is not God's ordinary course-we dare not
limit Him in the extraordinary-it is not God's ordinary
course, to bring close together the seed time and the harvest time; so that the filling of the ear shall follow
instantly on the sowing of the grain. The natural husbandry typifies the spiritual; and we look not in the one
for that abruptness, and that blending of results, which we
find not in the other.  And, therefore, if we observe a
man disposed to delay, calculating that the whole work of
religion may be condensed into an hour, and that, too, the
very last of mortal existence, we would simply say to him,
"The earth bringeth forth first the blade, then the ear,
after that the full corn in the ear." And dost thou expect
the three all at once? If thou art saved, it must be by a
kind of annihilation of time; a year, with all its seasons,
must pass in a minute. And if again we find a true Christian, who, harassed with trouble and pain, longs with
somewhat of impatience for the hour of dismissal from the
flesh, we say to him, Take heed how you desire the moment of gathering to precede the moment of ripeness;
that you live is our proof that you are not yet fit for
death; "when the fruit is brought forth, immediately
(mark that), immediately he putteth in the sickle." We
must dwell a moment longer upon this: it is a matter full
of interest and instruction. It seems often, as we have
hinted, to excite surprise both in the sufferer himself, and




316               SOWING THE SEED.               [Lcr,
in others, when a Christian, who has long been eminent for
piety, and whose faith has been conspicuous in his works,
lingers for months, perhaps even years, in wearisome sickness, as though, notwithstanding the preparations of a
righteous life, he needed protracted trial to fit him for the
presence of God. But there is, we believe, altogether a
mistake in the view which is commonly taken of old age,
and lingering sickness. Because a man is confined to his
room, or his bed, the idea seems to be that he is altogether
useless; that, in the ordinary phrase, he is quite laid by,
as though he had no duties to perform, when he could no
longer perform those of more active life. Was there ever
a greater mistake? The sick room, the sick bed, has its
special, its appropriate, duties-duties to the full as difficult, as honourable, as remunerative, as any which devolve
on the Christian, whilst yet in his unbroken strength.
They are not precisely the same duties as belonged to the
man in health: but they differ only by such differences as
a change in outward circumstances and position will always
introduce. The patience which he has to cultivate, the
resignation which he has to exhibit, the faith which he has
to exercise, the example which he has to set: oh, talk not
of a sick man as of a man laid by! harder deeds it may be,
ay, and deeds of more extensive usefulness, are required
from him who lingers on the couch, than from many a
leader in the highest and most laborious of Christian undertakings.
Is there then any cause for surprise, if a Christian be left
to linger long in sickness, to wear away tedious months in
racking pain, or slow decay? Is it at all in contradiction
to the saying, that, " so soon as the fruit is ripe, immedi



XVI.]             SOWING THE SEED.               317
ately he putteth in the sickle?" Not so-the fruit is not
necessarily ripe, the man's work is not necessarily done,
because he is what you call laid by, and can take no part
in the stir and the bustle of life. It is they who turn
many to righteousness that are to shine as the stars on the
firmament. And is there no sermon from a sick bed?
Has the sick man nothing to do with publishing and advancing the Gospel?  Nay, I think that an awful, a
perilous trust is committed to the sick Christian. Friends,
children, neighbours, the Church at large, look to him for
some practical exhibition of the worth of Christianity;
if he be fretful or impatient, or full of doubts and fears,
they will say, Is this all that the Gospel can do for man
in a season of extremity? If, on the other hand, he be
meek and resigned, and able to testify to God's faithfulness to his word, they will be taught-and nothing teaches
like example —that Christianity can make good its pretensions, that it is a sustaining, elevating, death-conquering
religion.
And who shall calculate what may be wrought through
such practical exhibitions of the power, the preciousness
of the Gospel? I, for one, will not dare to affirm that
more is done towards converting the careless, confirming
the wavering, or comforting the desponding, by the bold
champion who labours publicly at the making Christ
known, than by many a worn-down invalid who preaches
to a household, or a neighbourhood, by unruffled patience,
and simple unquestioning dependence upon God. I, for
one, can believe that he who dies a death of triumph,
passing almost visibly, whilst yet in the exercise of every




318               SOWING THE SEED.               [LECT
energy, from a high post of usefulness, into the kingdom
of glory, may have fewer at the Judgment to witness to
the success of his labours, than many a bed-ridden Christian, who, in the beautiful quietness of a godly submission,
waited year after year his summons to depart. God has
particular lessons to give, and particular ends to answer,
when He calls away one of his servants in the midst of
his strength, and with every indication of triumph, and
when He leaves another to spend not only years in labour,
but months, and even years, in the solitariness of his
chamber, a prisoner on his couch.  Dismiss then the
thought, that there is any thing strange in the lingering
sicknesses, the long-delayed deaths, of Christians who have
given full evidence of their faith and their piety. They
are ready, they are fit, to die, if by readiness, if by fitness,
you mean such a spiritual state that hope might justly
plant itself by their grave, and smile beautifully as they
were committed to its cold embrace. But God putteth
not in the sickle, because He has still work for them to do,
and Heaven has still prizes for them to win. Therefore
do they live. Therefore is the lamp so long in going out.
They live that they may preach, they live that they may
practise, Christianity.  The lamp yet burns, that the
flickering light may guide some wandering or wavering
spirit, and add another sparkle to the crown of righteousness which shall be awarded at the Judgment. 0, then,
marvel not that death comes so slowly; the mercy is that
it comes not more quickly. And whenever the old and
worn-down man falls sick of the sickness whereof he must
die, look not on him as he lingers, as on one who can be




XVI.]             SOWING THE SEED.                319
of no further use; rather regard him as still an efficient
labourer in the highest of causes.
The aged believer, whose closing scene has been regarded as furnishing only material of melancholy contrast,
whether with his own more active days, or with the more
rapid and joyful transition of many brethren in the flesh,
so debilitated has he been by long sickness, " My heart is
smitten and withered like grass, so that I forget to eat my
bread;" he often wins after death a testimony to his usefulness which may well compensate the darkness which
seemed to cloud his decline. The.good deeds wrought by
him in his protracted illness, may not immediately appear.
But, afterwards, we learn that he did not linger in vain,
that he did not die in vain. The example is remembered,
the patience, the meekness, remembered by children, by
servants, by friends, by neighbours. It is remembered, to
be imitated, in their own day of sorrow, their own hour
of dissolution. Then it administers courage, constancy,
hope. Oh! we may suffer much, we may linger long; no
burning rapture may characterize our going hence. But
if there be patient submission to the will of the Lord, our
memory may survive, and be instrumental to the victories
of religion. Ah! then, who has any thing to say as to
the inconsistency of our text with the known experience,
the protracted sufferings, the tedious old age of many of
the righteous? Useful to the last moment, doing God's
work in dying as well as in living, nay, winning it may be
a higher throne, and a richer crown, at the very instant
of breathing out the soul, why it is not more true, that
"the earth bringeth forth first the blade, then the ear,
after that the full corn in the ear," than that, "when




320               SOWING THE SEED.               [LECT.
the fruit is put forth, immediately he putteth in the
sickle."
Now we said that we would not enter on the illustration of the parable, considered as delineating the history
of the Church. We should not have space for the inquiry.
We will only remark that the Church, from the first, has
been God's witness upon earth, and that, when her testimony shall have been fully delivered, the end will have
come, and the dispensation will be closed. The ripeness
of the Church will be, when it shall have witnessed for all
the truths which are to be opposed by the heretical and
the infidel.  Already has the protest been uttered on
behalf of those doctrines, referring both to man and the
Mediator, which are nothing less than the life's blood of
Christianity. If you trace heresy downwards, from the
Apostles' days to our own, you find it fastening -itself successively on the several truths of our faith, so that there
is scarce a fraction which has not been assaulted, and in
defence of which the Church has not shown itself Protestant. What then remains to the rendering the Church
fully ripe? We find from the Scriptures that one great
feature of the last times shall be disbelief or denial of the
second Advent of Christ. As in other days of the dispensation, so in the concluding, there shall be abroad the
covetous, the blasphemers, the traitors, the high-minded,
and all those manifestations of evil which have ever called
forth the protest of the Church. But, over and above
these forms of wickedness, scorners shall be walking the
earth, arguing, from the apparent fixedness of things, to
the improbability of Christ's interference, and tauntingly
asking, "Where is the promise of his coming "  Here, it




XVI.]              SOWING THE SEED.               321
may be, will be the last and most energetic demand on
the witness. The Church must oppose itself to this new
and desperate infidelity. She must protest for the Advent
of the Lorrd against the denial and reviling of a profligate
generation. And when the Church shall have done this,
witnessed that Christ is about to re-appear, and invoke a
scoffing world to prepare for his approach, then, it may
be, will her perfect ripeness be reached, and then, in
accordance with the parable, the fruit being brought forth,
Christ shall "immediately put in the sickle," gather in the
corn, and house his elect, ere vengeance be let loose on
the impenitent and unbelieving.
But we will not pursue this inquiry further. For an
instant we would recur to that application of the parable
which has to do with yourselves as the field, and with a
minister as the husbandman. We have spoken of the
utter weakness of the spiritual labourer, a weakness so
great, that, though he may rise night and day, and spare
no pains, and decline no toil, he cannot ensure one shred of
produce; but, after planting and watering with all the
carefulness of one, who knows himself admitted to an
office of awful responsibleness, must leave altogether with
God the giving an increase. It would accord better with
the feelings and the wishes of nature, if the sower might
do more than thus ply assiduously at the business of husbandry; or if, at the least, he might have an assurance
that some portion of the seed which he scatters shall " take
root downwards, and bear fruit upwards."  But, whilst
even this is denied him, and he may perhaps toil on, year
after year, without sensible evidence of a blessing on his
labours, he has the consolation of remembering that, when
2]




322               SOWING THE SEED.               ELECT;
the grain is sown, he has done his part, and that, whatever
the barrenness, it shall be no witness against him at the
great day of account.
How striking are the words in the prophecies of Ezekiel, " Nevertheless, if thou warn the wicked of his way to
turn from it, if he do not turn from his way, he shall die
in his iniquity, but thou hast delivered thy soul."  When
shall we make you feel that there are, in strict truth, but
two parties in religion, God and the soul? What saith
Solomon?  "If thou be wise, thou shalt be wise for thyself; but if thou scornest, thou alone shalt bear it."  Too
often if a man be spoken to of his eternal interests, if he
be entreated to attend to them, and not to put from him
the gracious offers of the Gospel, he will receive his adviser
as though he were asking some personal favour, and as
though an obligation would be conferred by his acting on
the suggestion. But remember, we beseech of you, that
if the minister be faithful, he is in a great degree independent. Let him sow the seed, and whether there come up
the tares or the wheat; whether the field be wholly sterile
or richly productive; he has done that which it was his
duty to do. And though, if he " turn many to righteousness," those many shall make up his diadem, yet if it be no
fault of his that he hath turned none, who will think that
he must be without a crown through Eternity?  The
working out salvation is a business which every man must
carry on on his own account-remember ye that. I cannot
conduct it for you: you cannot conduct it for me. The
prayers and tears of parents may do much, the warnings
and entreaties of friends may do much, towards bringing
the sinner to a pause: but parents cannot save the soul for




XVI.]            SOWING THE SEED.              323
you, friends cannot save the soul for you: it lies between
you and God; " every man shall bear his own burden."
IMay the Holy Spirit make you feel this, and drive you
to the tillage of your own hearts, to the ploughing now,
that you may reap hereafter!




LECTURE XVII.
X4hr 0rrat Vnltitth].
REV. vii. 9.
"After this I beheld, and, lo, a gireat multitude, which no man could number, of all nationz,
and people, and kindred, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb,
clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands."
TAKING this vision in the order in which it occurs amongst
the visions vouchsafed to St. John in his exile, it probably
delineates the happy estate of those who had adhered to
Christ during the fierce persecutions which preceded the
establishment of Christianity by Constantine. There can
be no doubt that the book of Revelation is, in the main, a
continuous prophecy, its several parts belonging to several
seasons which follow successively in the history of the
Church. But without disputing that, in its primary import, our text may relate to events which have long ago
occurred, it were not easy to doubt, that in its larger and
more comprehensive bearings, it may be taken as descriptive of the heavenly state, that condition of repose and
triumph which shall be ours, even ours, if we be faithful
unto death. Admitting that the great multitude, on which
the Evangelist was permitted to gaze, "clothed with white




THE GREAT MULTITUDE.              325
robes, and palms in their hands," must be regarded as the
company of those, who, during the early days of Christianity, witnessed manfully for the truth, they must still,
both in number and condition, be emblematic of the
Church in its final glory and exaltation; and we may,
therefore, safely dismiss all reference to the first fulfilment
of the prophecy, and consider heaven as the scene on which
the Evangelist gazed, and " just men made perfect" as constituting the great multitude drawn together from all parts
of the earth.
It is, therefore, on such notices of the heavenly state as
the words before us may furnish, that we design to discourse on the present occasion. We would refiesh you
and animate you, wearied as you may be by the conflicts
and struggles of earth, with glimpses of things within the
veil. We do not indeed mean to address ourselves to the
imagination: if we did, there are more dazzling passages
in the book of Revelation, and we might strive to set before you the New Jerusalem, the heavenly city, with its
gates of pearl, and its streets of gold. But we think to
find notices in the words of our text, which, if not so resplendent with the gorgeous things of the future, shall yet
go closer home to the heart, and minister more comfort to
those who find themselves strangers and pilgrims below.
We will not anticipate what we may have to advance.
We shall only hope that we may meet with what will
cheer and sustain us amid "the changes and chances of
this mortal life," what will keep alive in us a sense of the
exceeding greatness of "the recompense of the reward,'"
of the desirableness of the inheritance reserved for us
above, as in dependence on the teachings of the Holy Spirit,




326             THE GREAT MULTITUDE.            [LECTwe apply to our future state the words of the Evangelist
John, "I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man
could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people,
and tongues, stood before the throne, and before'the
Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their
hands."
Now, when these words are set before us as descriptive
of the heavenly state, it can hardly fail but that the first
thing on which the mind shall fasten will be the expression, "a great multitude, which no man could number."
It is so in regard of parallel sayings, "In my Father's
house are many mansions." " Many shall come firom the
east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham, and Isaac,
and Jacob, in the Kingdom of Heaven."  " A great multitude," "many mansions,"' "many shall come."  But what
are " many," in the Divine arithmetic? Doubtless thousands, and tens of thousands; yea, an innumerable company. Many are the worlds scattered through immensity
-who shall reckon them?  Many are the leaves of the
earth's forests-who shall compute them? Many are the
grains of sand on the sea shore-who shall count them up?
Neither may we think to compass the multitude that St.
John saw "before the throne, and before the Lamb;"
indeed, he tells us this, when he adds, "which no man
could number."  But it is a comforting thing to be told
that "a great multitude," not "great" on a mere human
estimate, but "great" on a Divine, shall press into the
inheritance purchased by Christ's blood. Then not only
is Heaven no narrow, no contracted spot; but, on the
contrary, spacious enough for myriads upon myriads of
happy beings: but these myriads upon myriads shall he




XVII.]          THE GREAT MULTITUDE.              32 
there: the vast expanse shall not stand empty, but shall
be occupied by a rejoicing and adequate assembly.
It is a refreshing thing to look away for a moment,
from the strife and uncharitableness of human systems
and conclusions, each disposed to narrow HIeaven within
its own pale and party, and to behold "a multitude, such
as no man could number," entering by the gate into the
everlasting city. There is something unspeakably cheering
in the contrast between the representation furnished by
our text, and that derived from the exclusive systems of a
miscalled theology. If Heaven were to be peopled according to the estimate of self-opinionated sects; if human
judgment were to settle who shall be privileged to find
place within its precincts; not "many," but " few," it may
be very few, would constitute the celestial assembly. But,
whilst we may justly rejoice in being able to appeal firom
human judgment to Divine, in having the authority of
Scripture, for not only assigning vast capacity to Heaven,
but for regarding it as the home of an interminable throng,
we are to take heed that we lower not the conditions of
admission, as though the entrance must be easy, because a
great multitude shall be there. The great, the solemn
truth remains, that "there shall enter into the city nothing which defileth," "neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie, but they that are written in the
Lamb's book of life."  It may be that human judgment is
vastly at fault, and that human bigotry, magnifying or
idolizing its own tests, would exclude numbers from the
celestial abode, who shall be found amid its glorified
occupants. But whilst this is immeasurably comforting to
those, who, wearied, and almost terrified by theological




328             THE GREAT MULTITUDE.             [LECT
strife, can retire within themselves, and humbly venture,
after due searching and probing of the heart, to exclaim
with Peter, " Lord, thou knowest all things, thou knowest
that I love thee," it affords no groundwork on which
others may build, who are practically neglecting the great
salvation. For because God "seeth not as man seeth,"
because He may find in many a meek, and contrite, and.
retiring spirit, that vital Christianity which is not to be
detected, nay, which may even be denied, on the bringing
it to the coarse touchstones of human systems and sects,
this surely is no encouragement to the wicked, to the careless, to the indifferent: if man's intolerance, or man's
ignorance, leave not sufficient to make up the " great multitude," at least the deficiency will not be supplied by
man's impenitence, obduracy, or contempt of religion.
And a glance at the context should suffice to keep
down any rising thought, that, because there shall be " a
great muiltitude" in Heaven, and, therefore, perhaps numbers whom their fellow-men never expected to be there,
some may find admission who have taken no pains to
secure so great a blessing. " What are these," it is asked,
"which are arrayed in white robes, and whence came
they "  The answer is, "These are they which came out
of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and
made them white in the blood of the Lamb." So far then
from there being any thing for you to reckon upon, ye
who are not striving after a moral fitness for Heaven, in
the alleged vastness of the multitude which is to occupy
Heaven, there is much to admonish and warn you: if ye
know nothing of the "great tribulation," of the warfare
with "the world, the flesh, and the devil," ye may forfeit




XVII.]          THE GREAT MULTITUDE.             329
your places, the places which were made yours, when God
graciously admitted you into his Church: but those places
will not stand empty: " God is able of these stones to
raise up children unto Abraham;" and He will not be
reduced, through the want of faithful disciples, to the
admitting into his presence the rebellious and unclean.
And Christendom, with all the advantages which it has
long enjoyed, may not furnish a population for the New
Jerusalem: but other nations and tribes and tongues, continents, and islands, long, and even still, oppressed with
ignorance and superstition, shall receive gratefully the
Gospel of Christ, and swell the ranks of his Church.
Yea, and over and above there being a warning to us
in the fact, that Heaven shall be peopled to the full, even
should we ourselves come short of the inheritance, is it
not an animating thing to be told of all " nations, and
people, and kindreds, and tongues," as contributing to the
occupancy of the majestic abode? The heart of the true
Christian is sorrowful within him, as he thinks of the
dominion of Paganism.  He grieves over the vast and
rich districts of the earth, which are inhabited by the
worshippers of idols, and could almost despair-so inveterate and deep-rooted appears the empire of Satan-of
the spread and triumph of the kingdom of Christ. But
"lo, a great multitude, of all nations, and people, and
kindreds, and tongues." The purpose of the Lord is fixed:
"the idols he shall utterly abolish:" the march of Christianity may have been slow and impeded; but the truth
shall yet prosper and prevail; and faith, guided by the
sure word of prophecy, may even now behold the wild
children of the desert, the wanderers whose hand is




330             THE GREAT MULTITUDE.             ELECT;
against every man, and every man's hand against them;
the slaves of bloody rites, the victims of fearful delusions,
sitting at the feet of Jesus, "clothed and in their right
mind," and "made meet for the inheritance of the saints
in light."  O glorious society which shall thus be gathered
from all ages, all ranks, all countries! There is beauty in
diversity, there is majesty in combination. I kindle at the
thought of there being " a great multitude" in Heaven:
I kindle yet more at that of this multitude being drawn
from every nation, and' tribe, and tongue. What a throng
to join! what a company with which to associate, and
enter into fellowship!  The righteous of past days, of
present, of future —those who, under earlier dispensations,
caught faint glimpses of the star of Bethlelem; those who,
possessing but the few and brief notices of traditional
religion, felt after God, and proved that He had never
left Himself without witness; Jews who deciphered the
types, and gave substance to the shadows of the law;
Gentiles on whom shone, in all its effulgence, the light of
the Gospel; the mighty gatherings of that splendid season,
when "the knowledge of the glory of the Lord shall
cover the earth, as the waters do the sea"-what a multi.
tude through which to move, with which to make acquaintance, with which to hold converse!
Even now, it is felt to be an ennobling, inspiriting association, if the eminent of a single Church, the illustrious
of a solitary country, be gathered together in one great
conclave. How do meaner men fock to the spot: with
what interest, what awe, do they look upon persons so
renowned in their day: what a privilege do they account
it, if they may mingle a while with sages so profound, with




XVII,]          THE GREAT MULTITUDE.              331
saints so devoted: how do they treasure the sayings which
reach them in so precious an intercourse. And shall we
think little of Heaven, when we hear of it as the meetingplace of all that hath been truly great, for of all that hath
been truly good; of all that hath been really wise, for of
all that hath yielded itself to the teachings of God's
Spirit; from  Adam to his remotest descendant?  Nay,
"let us fear, lest, a promise being left us of entering into
that rest, any of us should seem to come short." There is
a voice to us from the " great multitude," who flock with a
sound, like the rush of many waters, from all nations and
tribes. "A great multitude"-there is room then for us.
"A great multitude" —there will be no deficiency without
us. We can be spared: the loss will be ours: but, oh,
what a loss; and what an aggravation of that loss that,
perhaps, as we go away into outer darkness, " where shall
be weeping and gnashing of teeth," we shall see those who
were once strangers and aliens, flocking into the places
which might have been ours, and be witnesses to the literal accomplishment of the vision, " Lo, a great multitude,
which no man could number, of all nations, and people,
and kindreds, and tongues.'
But it is not merely as asserting the vastness of the multitude which shall finally be gathered into Heaven, that
our text presents matter for devout meditation. We are
not to overlook the attitude assigned to the celestial assembly, an attitude of rest and of triumph, as though there
had been labour and warfare, and the wearied combatants
were henceforward to enjoy unbroken quiet. " They stood
before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with
white robes, and palms in their hands."'  This exactly




332             THE GREAT MULTITUDE.             [LECT
answers to the assertion already quoted, that they had
come "out of great tribulation," and denotes-for such is
the inference from the robes which they wore, and the
palms which they carried, both appertaining to conquerors
— that all warfare was at end, and that there remained
nothing henceforward but the enjoyment of deep repose
in the presence of the Lord. The imagery of the passage
is derived, you observe, from  the triumphs of victors.
Spiritual things can only be shadowed forth to us by
material; and without pretending to decide that the
material is never to be literally taken, —for who, remembering that man is to be everlastingly compounded of
body and soul, will venture to determine that there shall be
nothing but what is purely spiritual in the future economy?
who, when he reads of new Heavens, and a new earth,
will rashly conclude, that, for such a being as man is to be,
there cannot be reserved an abode rich in all the splendours of a most refined materialism, presenting correspondences to the golden streets, and the jewelled walls, and
the crystal waters, which passed in such gorgeous and beautiful vision before the Evangelist? —but, waving the consideration that there may be something more than mere
figure, something of literal and actual import, in these
Scriptural delineations of Heaven, the robe, the palm, the
harp, we may all feel how expressive is the imagery of
triumphant repose after toil and conflict, when applied to
the state reserved for those who shall be faithful unto
death. Not that by repose we are to understand inactivity,
for Scripture is most express on the continued engagement
of every faculty of a glorified saint in the services of the
Creator and Redeemer. The great multitude stand before




XVII.]          THE GREAT MULTITUDE.             333
the throne —the attitude implying that they wait to execute
the commands of the Lord; and they join in a high song
of praise and exultation, "Salvation to our God which
sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb." No idleness then, though there is perfect repose. But rest, as
opposed to any thing that is painful or toilsome in employment-repose, as implying that there shall never again
be weariness, exhaustion, clifficulty, or danger, notwithstanding that there shall be the consecration of the whole man
to the work of magnifying the Lord-this it is which is
promised as the portion of the righteous; and this it is
which is imaged by the palm in the hand, and the song
upon the lip.
Take even that figure which is so common in Scripture,
that of reclining at a banquet, as emblematic of Heaven;
and the figure does not portray idleness, though it largely
does repose. Even guests at a feast are not necessarily
idle, nor necessarily intent on mere luxurious indulgence.
Amid all the pomp and bravery of the gorgeous entertainment, there may be the lofty discussion, and the keen
play of intellectual power, and the collision of mind with
mind, producing new and rich sparks of thought, and the
circulation of profound discoveries in science, or of important occurrences in the world-so that a man may depart
from the festival as from a field of mental encounter and
improvement, on which he has taken many a forward step
in power and in knowledge. And whilst we believe of
Heaven, that there shall be all that disengagement from
laborious effort, or oppressive occupation, which seems
expressed in the figure of reclining at a banquet, or standing before the Lamb, clad in white robes, with the palm




334             THE GREAT MULTITUDE.             LLECT
in the hand, we believe also that there shall be no cessa.
tion from a service which is perfect freedom, and none
from an employment which will itself constitute happiness.
But what an attractive, what an animating view of
heaven, is that of its being a state of repose, as contrasted
with our present state of warfare and toil-the white robe,
in place of the "whole armour of God;" the palm, in
place of the sword, in the hand. He must be, I will not say
a strange man, but certainly a strange Christian, who is
never conscious of a painful pressure from the duties and
trials of life, who is never inclined to exclaim with the
Psalmist, " Oh that I had wings like a dove; then would I
flee away and be at rest." I cannot enter into the experience of that Christian, his life is a mystery to me, for
whom there is no soothing, heart-touching sound in the
words of the Apostle, " There remaineth, therefore, a rest
for the people of God." For let the course of the Divine
dealings with any member of the Church be the very
smoothest that is compatible with a state of probation,
still, compassed about as we all are with infirmity, called
upon to do many things to which we are naturally disinclined; which we can neither perform without painful
effort, nor omit without sinful neglect; exposed to temptations from the world, the flesh, and the devil; bearing
about within ourselves a principle of corruption, which
continually strives to regain the ascendancy, and which is
not to be kept down but by prayer without ceasing,
watchfulness without fainting —indeed, it were hard to understand how any believer could often be other than " weary
and heavy laden," and required to take heed against that im.




XVII.]          THE GREAT MULTITUDE.             335
patience at the burdens of life, which would show itself
in undue eagerness for the repose of eternity. It is not
that he would give up the service of God, but that he
would be able to serve God without weariness. It is not
that he would rest from holy employment, but that he
would have employment entail no necessity for rest.
It is not that he would be released from the struggle
with corruption, but that he would have no corruption to
struggle with, the final touches of sanctification having been
given, so that he is "without spot, or wrinkle, or any such
thing."  It is not that he would make peace with spiritual
enemies, but that he would be surrounded with none but
spiritual friends.
And such a state of repose awaits us in heaven. There
shall be no weariness there-" they rest not day nor night,"
employing every power on the doing God's will, and yet
sensible to nothing but the delightfulness of the employment. There no evil nature shall ply the believer with
temptations to sin. There no subtle adversary shall lie in
wait to deceive, no roaring lion seek whom he may devour.
O blessed estate! There is more of music in that one word
" rest," than in all that pealing anthem which, taken up in
St. John's hearing by " every creature which is in heaven,
and on the earth, and under the earth, and such as are in
the sea," filled the temple in the midst of which was the
throne of the Almighty.  And I ask not to be told what
those palms may be which the victors carry in their hands,
nor what those shining robes wherein they are arrayedfor, as yet, I may be poorly fitted to understand, to appreciate, heavenly happiness. But I can feel something of
the comforting power of the sublime announcement,




336             THE GREAT MULTITUDE.              [LECT.
"Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord: yea, saith
the Spirit, for they rest from their labour, and their works
do follow them." I can gaze on the "'great multitude,"
as they flock from all nations and tribes; and I can long
and pray to be found at last in their number, not because
I know precisely what the joys are of which they are
about to partake; but because, at least, I know that they
are exchanging warfare for peace, danger for security,
tumult for quiet, corruption for incorruption-yea, I know
of this multitude, that they are to stand "before the
throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes,
and palms in their hands."
There is another distinguishing feature of the heavenly
state which may be gathered from our text. You cannot
fail to observe, that, though the great multitude is collected from all nations and tribes, there is perfect concord
or agreement; they form but one company and join in
one anthem. The representation is much the same as is
furnished by the saying of our Lord, " In my Father's.house are many mansions."  There are "many mansions,"
you observe-just as St. John beheld " a great multitude:"
but there is only one house. As though Christ had said,
There is room for as many as will enter, and there shall be
but one roof over all. There is something very beautiful
in the representation of the innumerable company of the
redeemed as constituting, through eternity, only one household. It is melancholy to think how the visible Church
of Christ has been divided and rent, so that the aspect of
those who equally profess Christianity is as far removed as
possible from the aspect of a family. The slightest causes
seem to have been sufficient for violations of that brother



XVII.]         THE GREAT MULTITUDE.             33?
hood, which ought to have subsisted amongst men, and.
yet more, amongst Christians; so that there has not been
a thousandth part of the zeal in avoiding offences, as in
magnifying into importance whatever might be an apology
for a division. But the words of our text assure us that
nothing of these differences and separations shall follow us
through eternity. The redeemed are to constitute one rejoicing company. Nay, and the representation may almost
be said to go beyond this. How are they'to constitute
this one company, associated by close ties, and joining in
the same song, unless thej are to know one the other hereafter? When Christ speaks of many as coming firom the
east and the west, He speaks also of their sitting dowln
with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob. But this were apparently no privilege, unless they are to know these patriarchs. So also if men of all nations and tribes and
tongues are to make up one family, it can hardly be
doubted, that every one will know every other. And if
they are to be known, the one to the other, who have been
utterly separated upon earth, we may be sure as to that of
which some have doubted, and on which many have longed
for more express revelation, the recognition of one the
other in the world above, by those who have been friends
or kinsmen below.
We need not say to you that it is a very interesting
feature in heavenly happiness, that of the renewal of the
acquaintances and associations which have been our chief
joy on earth. There is no fear of our not dwelling with
delight on such a feature: the fear is rather the.other way,
of our suffering the mind to be engrossed with the prospect of re-union with the dead, as though the again meet22




338             THE GREAT MULTITUDE.            [LECT.
ing those whom we have loved were what should especially
make Heaven desirable. This cannot be the right view of
Heaven. Whether or not we can feel or understand how
such a thing may be, it is evident that Heaven must be independent on earthly associations, independent in the
sense that its happiness will be perfect, even should a saint
stand alone, as perhaps many will stand, without kinsman,
without friend, in the shining assembly. But the certainty
that Heaven will not require, in order to its being a place
of perfect happiness, the presence of the objects of earthly
affection, is quite consistent with the belief, that, if friends
and kinsmen meet above, they shall know one the other,
and derive from their meeting new elements of rapture
and joy. That God Himself will so supply the place of
the absent as that they shall not be missed-this is noways
at variance with the truth, that, when those who have been
parted below find themselves fellow-heirs of the kingdom,
they shall experience intense gladness in renewing their
friendship, in again becoming bound the one to the other,
though in a high and pure and happy association, such as
was hardly even imaged by the most affectionate upon
earth.
There is no need, in order to our excluding from our
pictures and anticipations of Heaven the selfishness and
contractedness of human families, that we should deny all
play hereafter to the best charities of our nature, and
seek to persuade those, who are weeping for the dead
that have died in the Lord, that because "in the resurrection they neither marry, nor are given in marriage,"
therefore, in the resurrection, the stranger shall be all the
same as the friend, and the friend all the same as the




XVII.]         THE GREAT MULTITUDE.             339
-stranger. There is no need, even now, that, if a man grow
more benevolent and philanthropic, enlarging as it were
his. heart, so that he daily embraces within its affections
more and more of his kind, he should therefore become
less warmly attached to his more immediate family-on
the contrary, we may believe, that, in proportion as he
came the nearer to the loving all men as himself, and sent
out, in wider and wider expatiations, the sensibilities of his
nature, he would find a deeper deliciousness and delight in
his own domestic nest, and cling all the more tenderly to
those, whom God had given him to give sunshine to his
home. And hereafter, if-as we may be thoroughly sure
will be the case-there shall be an universal affectionateness, the myriads of the redeemed making up but one
family, each knowing, each known and loved by, every
other, there may yet be only the more intimate, though
the more hallowed, intercourse with those with whom on
earth we had taken sweet counsel; and the heart, which
has grown large enough to leave out none in the interminable throng, may have but the wider and the warmer
abode for such as were its companions in the house of its
pilgrimage.
And this doctrine, the doctrine of the renewal in Heaven of the intimacies and associations of earth, may certainly be considered as derivable from the text; for if, as
we have said, the great multitude, beheld by St. John,
constitute one family, though gathered from all nations
and tribes, it cannot be doubted that those, who, here
below, were strangers the one to the other, become associated and acquainted above; and it were incredible that
men shall know those to whom they had been strangers on




340             THE GREAT MULTITUDE.             [LECT.
earth, and yet be strangers to those to whom they had
been friends. Still, they way in which the doctrine of
future recognition is delivered-not broadly stated, but
left to be inferred from other announcements-should lead
us to think more of Heaven as of a scene of enlarged association, the meeting-place, not merely of divided households, but of the believers of every generation, of the
elect of God from the beginning to the end of time. It
argues a heart still bound up in selfishness, if it be nothing, if it be little, to us, that, admitted into heaven, we
are to be, freed from all petty bounds and distinctions, and
to form part of one close, but countless, community.
The soul should be stirred within us, as we think of
patriarchs, and prophets, and priests, and kings —of apostles, confessors, and martyrs; of the illustrious, not by
earthly achievements, which too often dazzle by a false
glare, and are dimmed with the tears of the wronged and
afflicted; but the illustrious in the fight of faith, the
patience of hope, the labour of love-and not only of the
illustrious whose names go down in Christian biography,
the precious legacy of age to age, watchwords to the Church
when she would rouse her fainting children, and keep
them to their posts; but of that unknown, that unremembered multitude, the good, the godly, of successive generations, who, in the quiet privacies of ordinary life, have
served their God, and their Redeemer, whose names have
perished from every book but that in which to be enrolled
is to have the citizenship of earth, sea, air, the past, the
present, the future-for "He," saith Christ, "that overcometh shall inherit all things"-oh, I say, the soul should
be stirred within us, as we think of such an assembly, and




XVII.]         THE GREAT MULTITUDE.             341
hear ourselves invited to join it, and are told that we may
have the friendship of each and every one in the interminable gathering.
I ask not to be told of the splendid adornments with
which the roof of Heaven shall be inlaid-enough for me
that, according to words already quoted, there is to be but
one roof over all the inhabitants. The representations of
the future, which address themselves most to the heart, are
not those which are gorgeous with the gold and precious
stones: these are the most dazzling, but not the most penetrating. The heart is to be reached by what breathes
most of the tranquillities of universal love. And poetry,
in its longings for something on which to pour the splendour of its imagery, might seize on the white robes, and
on the palms, with which the ransomed are decked: but
if the soul's deepest chords are to be swept, then must we
hear of the repose of a home, and the hallowed charities
which weave themselves into a family; and all this is intimated to us —oh, that we may be incited to make it our
own!-by the vision vouchsafed to St. John, " I beheld,
and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of
all nations, and people, and kindreds, and tongues, stood
before the throne, and before the Lamb."
"Before the Lamb"-yes, the glorified humanity of the
Redeemer fixes by its presence the position of Heaven, and
at the same time gives it its magnificence. We know not
what Heaven, or the place of separate spirits, might have
been, ere the mystery of godliness was revealed, and the
Word had been made flesh, and effected man's redemption.
But it could hardly, if we may venture the expression, be
eonsidered the same place as now: for until it contained




342             THE GREAT MULTITUDE.            [LECT.
the Lamb which had been slain, it contained not what
makes Heaven to those who had forfeited their immortality.   Christ ascended triumphantly the mediatorial
throne, that He might be the wellspring of joy, and the
fountain of glory, to the great multitude which He had
purchased with His blood. There could be no Heaven to
such as ourselves without Christ: Heaven would be no
Heaven without Christ: so that, in entering Heaven, Christ
prepared, as He promised, a place for his disciples.
There are possibly other characteristics of the heavenly
state which might be drawn from the words which form
our subject of discourse. But we have gone far enough.
We have adventured thus far, because it may be a wholesome and refreshing thing, to withdraw occasionally from
the mazes of controversy, the cares of life, and the toils of
conflict, and to meditate on the portion reserved for the
righteous.  But we will not pass beyond what may be
practical and personal. It is not the Heaven which may
dazzle your imaginations, but the Heaven which may stimulate your efforts, which we are anxious to present to you.
Is not this Heaven, this place of perfect and beautiful repose, this meeting-place of the children of God-is not
this worth striving for, worth the surrender of a few poor
indulgences, worth the endurance of a few brief trials?
For shame, that you can hesitate. For shame, that, with a
Redeemer at your side, ready to impart all the assistance
which can be needed to your obtaining the inheritance,
you can linger amid earthly entanglements, and be so slow
in securing possession, if not so indifferent as to letting it
slip. For shame, that, whilst so many are pressing in from
all nations and tongues-pressing from the burning east,




XVII.]          THE GREAT MULTITUDE.             343
man's earliest home: from the distant west, so long an un.
discovered world-you, the children of the kingdom, with
every advantage of country and churchmanship, can mani.
fest so little earnestness, allowing it to be inferred, from
your apparent preference of the shadows and braveries of
earth, that you count it but a poor monarchy, of which
Christianity has conveyed to you the promise.
Let us rouse ourselves, lest, what we pursue so languidly, we miss eternally. The time is at hand. The
Judge standeth at the door. Already has Heaven gathered within its circuit the spoils of many generations.
Patriarchs are there, and prophets, and priests, and kings.
The young are there, the old are there; the men of every
clime have pressed into the spacious dwelling. But the
gate is still open: "yet there is room:" all of you may
enter Heaven: we will not be content that any should be
outcasts. I want to meet you all in a better land: I wish
that we might spend eternity together. Therefore do I
summon the careless to penitence, and the penitent to diligence. It may be but a little while, and the number of
the redeemed will be accomplished: it can be but a little
while, and our own portion will be fixed. "The violent,"
saith our Saviour, " take the kingdom by force"-oh, that
we may not be of the indolent who lose it by sloth!




LECTURE XVIII.
RUTH ii. 20.
"4 And Naomi said unto her daughter-in-law, Blessed be he of the Lord, who hath not left
off his kindness to the living and to the dead. And Naomi said unto her, The man is
near of kin unto us, one of our next kinsmen."
You can hardly need to be told that a connection the very
closest may be traced between the Jewish and the Christian dispensations.   But sometimes this  connection is
overlooked, and requires to be carefully examined and
explained. This is specially the case in regard of Redemption. There was Redemption, a process through which
-things and persons were redeemed, under the Jewish dispensations, as there is under the Christian; but we are not
perhaps so much in the habit of associating them as we
ought to be. Yet, one and the same character of a Redeemer is kept up through the whole of the Bible.  The
Redeemer under the law is most accurately the type of
the Redeemer under the Gospel.  There may be no broad
or distinct allusions to Christ. But whenever you meet
with a transaction of Redemption, whether it be a Redemption of land or of person, you will find that the




THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.             345
matter is so ordered as to be most strictly typical-the
features of our Redemption through Christ being unequivocally stamped on the legal arrangements which come
under review.
It will be the chief object of our discourse to make
good this'assertion. We count it an instructive and interesting thing to trace Redemption as kept always in sight;
so that the Jews were taught, even through the common
dealings of life, the great spiritual deliverance that was
wrought out in the fulness of time.  WTe are persuaded,
that, in proportion as the Jewish code is diligently examined, will it be found to teem with notices of our Redemption by Christ. God so constructed this code that it
should be virtually a system of references to Christ, and
that thus the devout Jew, whether engaging in the solemnities of the Temple worship, or busying himself with
temporal occupations, might have his attention turned to
that "seed of the woman," who, in the fulness of time,
was to put away sin by the sacrifice of Himself. We do
not indeed mean, that, with the change of dispensation
have passed away all these mementoes of the manner of
our salvation. We rather agree with those who hold that
there is still much in the arrangements of Providence,
which may serve to remind us of God's dealings in grace.
There is perhaps nothing over-fanciful in the thought, that
the food on which we chiefly subsist should constantly
suggest the idea of our Redemption through Christ. Is
it to be denied that since the use of animals for food, and
those principally which were miade choice of in sacrifice,
the world literally subsists by shedding of blood, so that
the death of the innocent is every day the life of the




346           THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.           [LECT
guilty? The meat which perisheth may well thus remind
us of that meat which endureth unto life everlasting; and
the slaying, for the support of the body, of those beasts
which were once offered in typical sacrifice, is no slight
memento, that, for the support of the soul there died a
victim whose "flesh was meat indeed, and whose blood
was drink indeed."
But to return to the Jewish dispensation, and to that
keeping up the character of a Redeemer, upon which we
desire to fasten your attention. We bring you a text from
the book of Ruth, in which, though the word "kinsman"
is used by our translators, the marginal reading, as you
will observe, is "one that has the right to redeem."
Naomi is speaking of Boaz, who had shown great kindness
to Ruth, whilst gleaning in his fields. Here and elsewhere,
she calls Boaz "the kinsman;" but the word used in the
Hebrew is " the Redeemer." It was the law amongst the
Jews, that if a man died childless, his widow should
become the wife of his brother. If there were no brethren, the law seems to have been extended to the nearest
relations, so that the next of kin became the husband of
the widow. Now Chilion, the husband of Ruth, had died
in the land of Moab; and Naomi, her mother-in-law, being
thus left without a son, there was no husband's brother to
take Ruth from her widowhood. The law therefore gave
Ruth a marriage claim on the nearest of kin, and she
urged this claim upon Boaz. There was indeed a kinsman
who stood nearer in relationship than Boaz: but he, refusing to perform the part bf a kinsman, conceded to Boaz
the right of inheritance. Boaz then honourably answered
the marriage claim of Ruth, and receiving her as his wife,




XVII1.]        THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.             347
gave occasion to the friends of Naomi to exclaim, " Blessed
be the Lord, who hath not left thee this day without a
kinsman," or literally without a Redeemer. But if we
examine this history a little more attentively, we shall
perceive that it was not exactly his marrying Ruth which
gained for Boaz the title of Redeemer. His challenge to
the man who stood in closer relationship, was,,that he
should buy a parcel of land which Naomi was about to
sell. The nearer kinsman refusing, Boaz himself bought
the land, or, as the Scriptural phrase is, redeemed the
land; and it was this purchasing the inheritance, and so
preventing it from passing to strangers, which caused Boaz
to stand in the position of Redeemer.
And if we look into the law of Moses, we shall find
three states which are marked out as requiring the interposition of a Redeemer. If there had been forfeiture of
inheritance, or if there had been loss of liberty, or if there
had been shedding of blood-in each of these cases it was
enjoined that the Goel-for such is the Hebrew namethis Goel or Redeemer being always the nearest of kin,
should interfere on behalf of the distressed individual.
And our desire is to show you, that, whenever the law
directed the interposition of the Goel or Redeemer, it gave
a typical lesson on the offices of Christ. The occasions
which produced the interference of the legal Redeemer,
and the manner in which that interference was conducted;
these bear so accurate a reference to the Gospel Redeemer,
that we cannot doubt it to have been the mind of the
Spirit, to keep the grand scheme of human Redemption
always present to the people of Israel. We will take in
succession the three cases in which the Goel or Redeemer




348            THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.             [LECT
was bidden to interfere-the forfeiture of inheritance, the
loss of liberty, the shedding of blood-and, examining
each transaction under its legal description, strive to show
you the fidelity with which it imaged the deliverance
wrought out for us by Christ-Christ, of whom we may
most emphatically say, in the language of our text, "The
man is near of kin unto us, one of our next kinsmen,'
" Blessed be he of the Lord, who hath not left off his kindness to the living and to the dead."
We begin with the forfeiture of inheritance. You will
find in the twenty-fifth chapter of the book of Leviticus
directions given for the interference of the Goel. If an
Israelite had become poor, and had sold. away some of his
possession, the nearest of kin, called the Goel or Redeemer,
was directed, if possible, to purchase or redeem the land.
In this case it became the property of the Goel until
the year of Jubilee, when it went back to the original
proprietor. The alienated or forfeited possession might,
at any time, be redeemed by the first owner, supposing
him able to pay the price of Redemption. But if he were
not able, then none but the Goel could redeem it for him;
and if the Goel came not forward, no stranger might interfere; the possession must remain unredeemed.
Now there can be no difficulty in at once discerning the
typical character of this transaction. We fasten, first of
all, upon the fact-a fact which is learned equally from
each of the three cases of legal Redemption-that none
but a kinsman could fill the office of Goel or Redeemer.
It was not enough that an individual might be ready to
come forwards on behalf of the impoverished Israelite.
Had he the rights of the closest kinsmanship? If not, the




XVIII.]        THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.             349
law altogether refused to allow the interposition: its fundamental principle, in all such cases, appearing to have
been, that kinsmanship was indispensable to the constitution of a Redeemer. And who sees not, that, in laying
down and adhering to such a principle as this, the law
taught impressively the lesson, that He who should arise,
the Goel of a lost world, must be bone of their bone, and
flesh of their flesh?  It would have been nothing, that
rank upon rank of celestial intelligence should rush eagerly
forwards, and, compassionating the ruined estate of our
race, offer to devote their magnificent energies to the improving its condition. Were they the kinsmen of the lost?
could they make out relationship? could they prove that
there existed between themselves and the fallen any of
that alliance which results from community of nature?
Then, an angel, not being a kinsman, could not be a Redeemer. None but a man could be the Goel of mansuch was the truth which the law emphatically taught,
when refusing, in any case, to concede to a stranger the
right of Redemption.
And is not this the truth which was literally acted upon
in the appointment of a " Mediator between God and
man?" " Forasmuch as the children are partakers of flesh
and blood, He also Himself likewise took part of the
same."  And shall we ever hesitate to say that the comforting and sustaining thing to the followers of Christ, is
that the Goel, the Redeemer, is, in the strictest sense, their
kinsman? That Christ was like myself in all points, my
sinfulness only excepted; that his flesh, like mine, could be
lacerated by stripes, wasted by hunger, and torn by nails;
that his soul, like mine, could be assaulted by temptation,




350            THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.            [LECT
harassed by Satan, and disquieted under the hidings of the
countenance of his Father; that He could suffer any thing
which I can suffer, except the remorse of a guilty conscience; that IHe could weep every tear which I can weep,
except the tear of repentance; that He could fear with
every fear, hope with every hope, and joy with every joy,
which I may entertain as a man, and not be ashamed of
as a Christian-there is our creed respecting the human
nature of Christ; and if you could once prove that Christ
was not perfect man (always bearing in mind that sinfulness is not essential to this perfectness), there would be
nothing worth fighting for in the truth, that Christ was
perfect God; the only Redeemer who can redeem our lost
heritage, being necessarily our kinsman; and none being
our kinsman who is not of the same nature, born of a
woman, of the substance of that woman, our brother in all
but rebellion, ourself in all but unholiness.
Such we know abundantly from the testimony of Scripture, and from the very nature of the case, it was needful
should be the Goel, or Redeemer, of men. And when, in
all cases of Redemption, the law peremptorily refused to
admit any one but the kinsman to the office of Redeemer,
can it be questioned that there was perpetually inculcated
on the Israelites the great truth of the human nature of
the Mediator? Has there not throughout been the maintenance of that character of a Redeemer, which, putting
our deliverance far beyond the power of angel or archangel, makes brotherhood indispensable to the effecting
atonement; or renders it needful that we should be able
to say, "The man is near of kin unto us, one of our next
kinsmen," if we are ever to declare of any being, in the




XVIII.]        THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.              351
full and comprehensive meaning of the words, "Blessed
be he of the Lord, who hath not left off his kindness to
the living and to the dead?"
But there is nothing in these remarks which applies to
one case of legal Redemption more than to another. We
have only argued from the general requirement of kinsmanship, without attending to the particular features of
the instance brought under review. But if you wish to
describe man's natural condition, and the change ffeected
in that condition by the interference of Christ, whence
could you fetch better terms than from the directions of
the law in regard of a forfeited inheritance?  Who is the
Israelite that ha's grown poor, and alienated from him the
possession of his fathers, if it be not man, originally the
chosen of God, rich in a birth-right which gave him a glorious world for his dwelling-place, and Immortality for his
life-time; but who, afterwards, by yielding to temptation,
stripped himself of all his wealth, and made himself heir
to nothing but corruption? A magnificent creation was
our possession; and we sold it to Satan; making it over
to the ravages of the destroyer, who rifled its beauties, and
let loose upon it the long train of wrath and calamity.
The image of the Almighty was our possession; and we
parted with this, destroying it by an act of rebellion. An
eternity of happiness was our possession; and we threw
away this; bringing down on ourselves the curse of death,
of death alike to body and soul. And we became poorwho shall measure to us the spiritual poverty of man?
have we a solitary fraction to pay down for the Redemption of the land? The way is open, as it was with the
Israelites, if the man himself be able to redeem it, let him




352            THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.            ELECT.
redeem it. But can we buy this creation back from
Satan? can we sweep together the costly and the precious,
and tender an equivalent for the image of God? can we
accumulate the purchase-money for a bartered Immortality? And if the effort be hopeless, must the inheritance
be forfeited for ever?  No, God's appointment with our
race is just what it was with the Israelites,'" the land shall
not be sold for ever." Who then shall redeem it? who
but the Goel, the kinsman, the brother?  God will provide a Redeemer. There shall arise a man, yet, oh, infinitely more than a man; and his human nature shall give
Him the right, whilst his Divine gives Him the strength
— the right of kinsmanship, the strength of payment-and
the blood of this mysterious person shall be poured forth
in ransom; and He shall buy back the land which the
rebellious have lost.
This was the achievement, which, in the fulness of time,
the Goel effected. He literally redeemed man's inheritance. He snatched materialism itself from the dishonours
of the fall, securing the dawning of a day, when new
heavens and a new earth, sparkling with a richer than the
early beauty, shall succeed to those which sin hath profaned. He gained for man the renewing influences of the
Spirit; and thus brought us into such a position, that we
may be cast, as it were, once more into the mint, and
come forth with a fresh impress of the likeness of God.
He purchased the bartered Immortality; for did He not
" abolish death, and bring life and Immortality to light by
his Gospel "  Thus the Goel, the kinsman, redeemed the
land. But what He redeemed, He did not instantly
restore. He has gained the right over the land; but, for




XVIII.]        THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.              353
a while, He keeps possession of that right, and gives not,
back at once the whole forfeited inheritance. And was
it not thus with the Goel under the law? He redeemed
the land; but then he retained it until the year of Jubilee.
In the year of Jubilee the original proprietor came forth,
and the Goel restored him  all which he had forfeited.
With the blast of a trumpet throughout the land was
ushered in the Jubilee year of the Israelites. With a
nightier trumpet-peal, heard on the mountains, and in the
deserts, and in the cities, and in the sepulchres, shall commence the Jubilee year of this creation. Then shall the
Goel, appearing in his majesty, and yet retaining all the
tokens of his kinsmanship, call up the new heavens and
the new earth fiom the wreck of the old. Then shall He
portion out eternal glories to those who have clung to
Him as their surety, and restore, in all its splendour, the
long-lost inheritance.
Thus, without entering into minuter particulars on the
law of PRedemption, we make good, as we think, the
alleged typical connection between the PRedemption of
land under the law, and the Redemption of mankind, as
revealed to us by the Gospel. We show you, that, by and
through the person and office of the Goel, God was perpetually informing the Israelites as to the character and
work of the Messiah. And when we have pointed out to
you the impoverished Jew, spoiled of the possession of his
fathers, unable of himself to do any thing towards regaining the inheritance-and have then turned your attention
on a kinsman Redeemer paying down the ransom, bringing
back the land into the family, keeping it in his own hands
until the Jubilee trumpet sounded, and then restoring it
23




354            THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.             [LECT
to the original owner-we think that we have furnished
you with so vivid a sketch of Paradise lost through human
apostacy, regained by the purchase of a Kinsman, and
given back on the day when the archangel shall lift his
trump, and blow the blast at which the sheeted dead shall
start, that it must on all hands be confessed that the Goel
of the law was pre-eminently a type of the Redeemer of
the Gospel-yes, all must be ready to look upon Christ as
shadowed forth in these words of Naomi, "This man is
near of kin to us, one of our next kinsmen. Blessed be
he of the Lord, who hath not left off his kindness to the
living and to the dead."
Now we have spoken at so much length on the first
case of legal Redemption, where there had been forfeiture
of inheritance, that a brief notice will suffice for the
second, where there had been loss of liberty. The cases
are so far alike, that they may be regarded as different
exhibitions of one and the same condition; and whatever,
therefore, we have advanced in respect to the former
instance, applies, with only a slight change in the imagery,
to the present. You will find, by reference to the twentyfifth chapter of Leviticus, from which we have already
quoted, that, for the discharge of debt, or the procurement
of subsistence, an Israelite might sell himself either to an
Israelite or a stranger. If he became the servant of an
Israelite, there appears to have been no right of Redemption: he must remain in the house of his master till the
year of Jubilee. But if he became the servant of a stranger, then there was a case for the interposition of the
Goel; and the law ran, "After that he is sold, he may be
redeemed again; one of his brethren may redeem him."




XVIII.]        THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.             355
As in the instance of the redemption of land, if the man
were able, he might be his own redeemer. * But if he had
no ability to pay the ransom himself, then either one of his
kinsmen must interpose on his behalf, or the man must
remain unredeemed; the law still holding good that no
stranger could discharge the office of the Goel.
You will observe the peculiarity, that the Goel had no
right to interfere, unless it were to a stranger that the
Israelite had been sold. If the master were an Israelite,
the servant was in no sense alienated from God's people;
and the exigence was not such as to warrant the Goel's
interference. But if the master were a stranger, then the
servitude became typical of man's bondage to Satan. It
might be said in a degree to have withdrawn the servant
from the congregation of Israel; and thus a case was made
out for the kinsman Redeemer; the Goel might come
forward, and the servant might be free. You will perceive
at once, that, in its typical character, this transaction is
identical with that already reviewed. Is it not the Scriptural representation of man by nature, that he is "the
servant of sin, led captive by Satan at his will "  The
Israelite hath sold himself to the stranger; and not one
farthing can he advance towards buying back his freedom.
Must he then languish for ever in bondage? Must the
chain be for ever upon him?  Must he groan for ever
beneath the load of oppression?  There  advances a
mighty one who proclaims Himself his Kinsman and Goel,
made of a woman, made under the law, and bearing the
ifkeness of sinful flesh. He pays down in suffering the
price of Redemption: He strikes the chain with his cross,
and it is broken into shivers: He bids the prisoner come




356            THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.             [LECT,
forth, and walk in the glorious liberty of the children of
God.
We will not however enlarge upon this: the typical
correspondence is too obvious to be overlooked. We rather
proceed to the third case of the Goel's interference, a case
which differs considerably from those already examined.
It was the office of the kinsman, the Goel, to interpose,
not only when there had been forfeiture of inheritance, or
loss of liberty, but also when there had been shedding of
blood. You will find the account of this third office of
the Goel in the thirty-fifth chapter of the book of Numbers, which particularly describes the appointment of cities
of refuge. It is here, indeed, easy to overlook the kinsman
Redeemer, and not to observe that he is introduced into
the discourse. Our translation speaks only of the "avenger," or the " revenger of blood." But the original word
marks simply the Goel-so that the Goel, the kinsman
Redeemer, was, in virtue of kinsmanship, the avenger of
blood. If murder had been perpetrated, the prosecution
and execution of the murdered devolved on the nearest of
kin to the murdered party. He must pursue the murderer; and if he overtook him before he reached the city
of refuge, he might take summary vengeance for the death
of his relative.  But if the Goel were not at hand when
the crime was committed, it would seem that no styranger
had right to arrest or follow the criminal. He betook
himself unmolested to the nearest city of refuge, and
remained there in safety until the cause was tried before
the judges of the land. So that, in this case, as well as in
the others, the interference depended on the kinsmanship.
Nothing else could warrant a man in undertaking the




XVIII.]       THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.             357
office of the Goel; and thus that distinguishing feature of
the Goel, which made him throughout the type of our
Redeemer, the feature of kinsmanship to the party requiring interference, stands out as prominently when blood
was to be avenged, as when land was to be redeemed, or
liberty regained.
But wherein, in this instance, lies the typical resemblance
between the offices of the Goel and of Christ?   Te suspect that wrong interpretations have been advanced of
the figurative meaning of a portion of the law, through
men's not observing that the " avenger of blood" is the
Goel, the kinsman Redeemer. It is the common idea, that
the cities of refuge were typical of Christ; and that the
manslayer, who fled thither for shelter, was the human
race, pursued by the justice of the Almighty. We are
far from implying that there is no fidelity or beauty in
such a figure; or that, under certain limitations, it may
not be lawful to reckon as antitype and type, our Redeemer and the city of refuge. But we have adduced, we
hope, no inconsiderable proof, that the fixed and standing
type of Christ under the law was the Goel, the kinsman
Redeemer; and that the offices of this Goel gave the clear
outlines of those of the Messiah. Whenever, then, we
find mention of an interference of the Goel, we seem
bound, by all fair laws of interpretation, to search for
something analogous to the interference of the Christ;
and we may well hesitate, after having heretofore found
man's advocate in the Goel, to assent to a commentary
which, in this case, would find his adversary. We will
not, therefore, seek the figure of Christ in the city of
refuge. We look for Christ in the Goel; and since the




358            THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.             [LECT
Goel is here "the avenger of blood" we will search for
Christ in " the avenger of blood."
We wish you to bear in mind that our only business
lies with the office of the Goel. If you follow the murderer into the city of refuge, you might find circumstances
inconsistent with that designation of the murderer, which
we are about to advance. But this touches not the question of the office of the Goel, and has therefore no right
to be introduced into the debate. There would be just as
much objection against the supposing Christ typified by
the city of refuge. Those who were really guilty fled in
vain to the city, and must be delivered up to the punishment due to their crime. Who can find in this any emblem of the flying of sinners to Christ, and of the succour
afforded to those who have deserved hell by their many
offences? We are bound to be always careful not to overstrain types. But, in the case of the Goel, let attention
be only limited, as it ought to be, to the person and office,
and the resemblance is so perfect that it might be hardly
possible to exaggerate the figure. We have now, therefore, only to do with the Goel as the avenger of blood;
and we keep out of sight the arrangements connected with
the cities of refuge.
If murder were committed, the Goel alone, the kinsman Redeemer, could pursue the murderer. Such is simply
the typical exhibition-and who does not find in it the
representation of the office of Christ? Created deathless
and inperishable, was not the human race slain by Satan,
when he wrought up our first parents to an act, prohibited
by the words, " In the day that thou doest it, thou shalt
surely die 2"  We suppose it to have been with reference




XVIII.]        THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.              359
to this slaughter of mankind, that Christ said of the devil,
" he was a murderer fiom the beginning."  It was clearly
through the instrumentality of Satan, that death, whether
of body or of soul, gained footing in this creation. But,
if done through his instrumentality, it may justly be ascribed to his authorship. And we count it, therefore, most
correct to describe Satan as the great manslayer. He it is
that hath shed human blood; and all that vast mowing
down of successive generations, which keeps the sepulchres
replenished with fresh harvests of the dead, must be referred to that awful being, who hath been " a murderer from
the beginning."  And if we can thus find the manslayer
in Satan, cannot we find the avenger of blood in Christ?
Who pursued the murderer! Who, so soon as man lay
wounded and bleeding on the earth, snatched up the sword,
and followed the track of that malignant spirit, whose blow
had prostrated the world's population? Who, century
after century, unwearied and undiverted, opposed Himself,
in every quarter, and by every weapon, to the shedder of
blood; till, at last, meeting him front to front in one dread
struggle, He took on him  a vengeance which drew the
wonder of the intelligent universe, and " through death destroyed him that had the power of death?" Who was it,
that, sorrowing over the wretchedness of the stricken race,
put on righteousness as a breastplate, and clothed Himself
with zeal as a cloak, and then, equipped for conflict, sprang
forih to grapple with the assassin?  Who but the Goel?
VWho but the Kinsman Redeemer? Who but that seed of
the woman, predicted to bruise the serpent's head?  Who
but that Son of man, the brother of the slaughtered ones,
who " spoiled principalities and powers, and made a show




360            THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.             [LF.("I'
of them openly, triumphing over them in his cross?" Oh,
it is certain, that, though Satan for -a while may still be
permitted to roam over this creation, there has been gained
a mastery which reduced him into the bond-slave of our
Kinsman. It is certain that One who sprang from amongst
ourselves, allied to us by oneness of nature, associated by
all the linkings of brotherhood, has gone after the manslayer, and overtaken him, and spoiled him of his strength;
and that, though He allow him, in subservience to the
mighty purposes of God, still to walk this globe with the
slaughter-weapon in his hand, He is only reserving the
full taking of vengeance till the year of Jubilee arrives;
and that then, reckoning with the murderer for all the
blood with which the earth has been drenched, He will
hurl him headlong into the lake of fire, and thus call forth
an acknowledgment from congregated intelligences, that
the Goel of man has been the avenger of man's blood.
Yes, we thus show you, that, when the Goel rose up at
the sight of the corpse of his kinsman, and rushed forth in
pursuit of the assassin-just as well as when he interfered
to redeem his kinsman's land, or his kins'man's person —he
was the figure of that illustrious deliverer, who, in process
of time, should undertake the championship of his brethren,
regain their inheritance, burst their chains, and avenge
their blood. We may consider therefore that the point at
which we have been labouring, is sufficiently established;
that we shall carry with us your assent, when we take it as
an ascertained truth, that there was a standing type of
Christ under the legal dispensation, a type which would
be presented to the Jew in the various transactions of life,
and that this type was the Goel, the Kinsman Redeemer.




XVIII.]        THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.              361
It is over the grave and the separate state, as well as over
this earth with its duties and trials, that our Goel extends
his care and protection: having guarded his people through
life, He forgets them  not in death, He forsakes them not
after death; and therefore of Him, Him who " is near of
kin unto us, one of our next Kinsmen," may it be said with
an emphasis, which could never, comparatively, have been
used of any other Goel, " Blessed be he of the Lord, who
hath not left off his kindness to the living and to the dead."
We shall not presume to say that we have examined
every case in which the Goel interfered. We have certainly taken the chief instances; and if others occur, a similar
process of reasoning will bring out, we are persuaded, a
similar result. And do not suppose, that, in pleading for
the typical character of the Goel, we plead for the existence of a figure which was hidden from the men of the
old dispensation. When Job exclaims, "I know that my
Redeemer liveth," it is, "I know that my Goel, my Kinsman, liveth." And if the holy ones amongst the Jews
could describe Christ as the Goel, would they not naturally
turn to the offices of the Goel, in order that they might
ascertain the offices of Christ?
Kinsmen of Christ-for ye are all his kinsmen-kinsmen of Christ, shall your Goel have thus mightily interfered, and will ye put from you, through unbelief, the
benefits of his interference? He made himself the Kinsman of each one amongst you. Bear that, we beseech of
you, in mind. Who is there that is not the kinsman of
Christ? The kinsmanship resulted from his taking human
nature; and it is enough therefore to be a man, and I
know myself Christ's kinsman. And as He is the Kins



362            THE KINSMAN REDEEMER.
man of all, He is the Goel of all. He tasted death for
every man. He redeemed every man's inheritance. He
regained every man's liberty. He avenged every man's
blood. If not, how was He the Goel of the race? But
then He imposes a condition-" If ye will not believe,
surely ye shall not be established." If ye will not believe,
the land, though I have ransomed it, shall not come back
to you; and the liberty, though I have purchased it, shall
not be bestowed on you; and upon your own heads shall be
your own blood. We give you thus the simple, glorious
Gospel; and may God send it to your hearts.  The Goel
has interposed: He hath performed all the offices of the
Kinsman: and now unbelief, and nothing but unbelief, can
exclude the poorest, the meanest, the most wicked amongst
you, from a full and free share in the perfect Redemption.
Can any of you think of being his own Goel, of effecting for himself the salvation of his soul? There are chains
to be broken; there is Paradise to be regained; there is
Satan to be trampled under foot. And which of us is
sufficient for these things? Who will undertake them in
his own strength?  It can hardly be that you will not
shrink from what so manifestly surpasses human power.
Then close at once with your Goel: take the Redemption
which is proffered, without money and without price: you
will find Christ "able to save to the uttermost all who
come unto God through Him." And when enabled to
say, in the language of faith, "The man is near of kin
unto us, one of our next kinsmen," your experience of his
preciousness will lead you continually to exclaim, both here
and hereafter, "Blessed be he of the Lord, who bath not
left off his kindness to the living or the dead."




LECTURE XIX.
ACTS Xiv. 22.' Confirming the souls of the disciples, and exhorting them to continue in the faith, and
that we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God."
TIIESE words relate what was done by Barnabas and Paul,
on revisiting Lystra, Iconium, and Antioch, cities where
they had preached the Gospel, and planted Churches.
We take them  as our subject of discourse, because our
Church devotes this present day to the commemoration of
St. Barnabas, the Apostle, whom she defines in her collect
" as endued with singular gifts of the Holy Ghost."  His
name was originally Joses; he was of the tribe of Levi,
but born at Cyprus.  This latter circumstance explains
what is said of him, on his first mention in the book of the
Acts, "Having land, he sold it, and brought the money,
and laid it at the Apostles' feet." You will remember,
that, according to the law of Moses, the Levites were not
allowed to possess estates of their own in the promised
land: but this did not prevent their acquiring property in
other countries: Joses then, possessing land in Cyprus, was
at liberty to sell it, and throw the proceeds into the com



364                  ST. BARNABAS.               CLECT.
mon fund, which was then applied to the sustenance of
poor Christians; and, on his doing this-for he may have
been amongst the first or most liberal contributors to so
charitable a design-he seems to have received from the
Apostles the surname of Barnabas, which is interpreted by
St. Luke, " the son of consolation."
We have but little information as to the life and labours of Barnabas.  WVe read of his having been sent by
the Apostles to confirm the new Christians at Antioch,
who had received the faith on the preaching of those
" which were scattered abroad upon the persecution that
arose about Stephen."  When Barnabas came and had
seen the grace of God, " he was glad, and exhorted them
all, that, with purpose of heart, they would cleave unto
the Lord." The Evangelist then adds a testimony, which
fully bears out the expressions in the collect of the day,
"For he was a good man, and full of the Holy Ghost and
of faith."  He then became, for a considerable time, the
coadjutor of St. Paul; but even those great lights were
men of like passions with us: dissensions arose between
Barnabas and St. Paul: they separated, but still laboured
in the same cause; each chose a field for himself; and both
strove, with like zeal, to win converts to the faith of their
common Lord. There is little further known in regard of
Barnabas. But it is generally agreed that " his last labours were employed in his native country, and that, by
the malice of the Jews, he was tumultuously assaulted,
and stoned to death at Salamis, the principal city of
Cyprus."
And now, in taking our text as a fit subject of discourse
on the feast of St. Barnabas, and in commenting especially,




XIX.]               ST. BARNABAS.                 365
as we design to do, on its latter clause, " We must through
much tribulation enter into the Kingdom of God," we feel
as though you may think that more consolatory words
night have been looked for from'" the son of consolation."
Has Barnabas only to tell us of " much tribulation?" Has
he no more cheering tidings, by which to vindicate his
name?  Nay, my brethren, if he speak of " much tribulation," he speaks also of that tribulation as a way of entering into the "Kingdom of God."  Is it not consolatory to
be told by St. Paul, that " our light affliction, which is but
for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and
eternal weight of glory?"  Of course, the consolation does
not lie in the being told that there are afflictions which
must be borne, but in the being assured that these afflictions shall be instrumental to our everlasting good. It
might scarcely consist with the name of Barnabas, that he
should speak only of the multiplied sorrows which fall to
the true believer's lot; but we recognise the voice of the
" son of consolation," when those sorrows are represented
as preparing us for Heaven. And often as, in one way or
another, this truth comes before us, it seems always to take
a more than common hold of the mind: cares and griefs
are so numerous, so varied, so oppressive, that nothing falls
more gratefully on the ear of a Christian assembly, than
the mention of afflictions as fitting us for glory.
But we must take care Slest we misapply the exhortation of Barnabas. The very readiness with which numbers
hearken to a discourse upon sorrow, the soothing sound
which there evidently is in words which tell how the Lord
chasteneth his people, should suggest the importance of
having it rightly understood, that though the kingdom is




366                 ST. BARNABAS.                [LECT.
to be entered "through much tribulation," there may be
"I much tribulation" which does not lead to the kingdom.
And this single remark may serve to show, that there is
room for great practical mistakes in regard of sorrow, as
well as of other divine orderings and appointments; so
that the subject should occasionally be brought forward in
the pulpit, not in order to the exhibiting the comforts and
consolations which God hath graciously provided for them
that mourn in Zion, but rather for the correcting what
may be erroneous in men's views, and the placing in its
true light the moral discipline wherein affliction has so
large a share. Such then is our design on the present occasion. It is the feast of St. Barnabas, and you expect
only soothing things from the son of consolation. But
whilst we wish you, and mean you, to have these, we must
also labour that you take not comfort on insufficient
grounds; therefore let us now see-and may God's Spirit
assist us in the search-whether the emphatic declaration
of St. Peter, as to Scripture being wrested to their own
destruction by the unlearned and unstable, may not be applied even to the words of Barnabas in our text, that, "we
must, through much tribulation, enter into the Kingdom
of God."
Now let us give you something of a parochial minister's
experience: let us make you accompany him, as he goes
one of his week-clay rounds, and introduce you to certain
cases of sickness or suffering. Our first visit shall be to a
person afflicted with great bodily disease, enduring racking
pains, which threaten to be of very long continuance,
neither likely to be alleviated by medicine nor terminated
by death. This is a most affecting alnd melancholy case:




XIX.]                ST. BARNABAS.                 367
no one of common sensibility can look on a fellow-creature,
thus sorely tried, and not long to say something to him
which might be cheering and soothing. And it is evident
that this is hardly to be done, unless reference be made to
another state of being: the case is clearly beyond the
ordinary and worldly expressions of hope and condolence;
so that it were better to keep silence, in fear of being
thought to be only trifling with misery, if we may not introduce the mention of a better land, where tears are
wiped away, and pain is unknown. But it is the clergyman's business, and it is also his privilege, to point the
afflicted to Heaven; and the natural impulse will be, as he
gazes on the stricken and disconsolate man, to say to him
in a voice of the most thorough sympathy, "Be of good
cheer; we must, through much tribulation, enter into the
Kingdom of God."  And perhaps the words are evidently
apprehended and relished by the sufferer: you can see, by
the faint smile which gleams for an instant on features distorted by pain, that the reference to the ends and objects
of affliction, tells on the feelings, and offers the kind of
comfort on which the heart is eager to seize.
But we must examine a little into the state of mind of,
this sufferer: however harsh and unkind it may seem, to
distress him with questions, and run the risk of destroying
even that small measure of support which our salutation
gave, we are not to leave him under a possible delusion,
but must endeavour to ascertain whether it be on right
grounds that he regards present sorrow as instrumental to
future happiness. Alas, it is not needful to put many
questions, or elicit many statements, in order to the discovering how confused, yea, how false, are the afflicted




368                 ST. BARNABAS.              [LECT.
man's notions. Ask him whether he know himself to be a
sinner, and that God's law hath denounced grievous punishment upon sin; and he will tell you, yes, he knows
himself a sinner, and therefore liable to the. heavy wrath
of God: but he will probably add, that, having so much
of stern suffering to endure in this life, he hopes that, in
the next, he shall find himself at rest.  How often, how
lamentably often, has the parochial minister to listen to
some such statement as this-the sick man implying that
he regards his sufferings as the punishment of sin, so that
what he now undergoes is so much taken off from future
penalties, and may even be so great as to leave nothing to
be endured after death.
But what can be more fatally erroneous than any such
notion? Admitting, as of course we do, that all suffering
is a consequence of sin; for had not sin entered the world,
suffering could have had no place; what men endure now,
can be at most but the temporal punishment of sin, and
must leave the eternal undiminished. It is not indeed for
us to decide why one man has so much more to endure
than another. The Judge of all the earth will do right:
and hereafter there shall be such ample explanation of
every dealing as will prove it to have been both in wisdom
and goodness, that, for years, excruciating pain was the lot
of this individual, whilst unbroken health attended upon
that. But one stern truth we are bound to deliver without compromise and without hesitation, and this is, that
there is nothing whatsoever, in the present sufferings of the
one, or the present freedom from suffering of the other,
from which to argue, that when the two die, they may not
have precisely the same amount of suffering to undergo




XIX.]               ST. BARNABAS.                369
through Eternity, the same portion to receive in that terrible state, where " the worm dieth not, and the firo;, not
quenched."  0 fearful aggravation of present affliction,
to think that it may all go for nothing, that the being,
who lies before you distracted by pain, and whose cries
might pierce a heart of stone, may, all the while, have
standing against him the vast del)t under which sin has
brought him to the justice of God; so that, if, in one
of those throes of agony which it is agony to witness, the
immortal spirit were to escape from its worn, distracted
tenement, it would be doomed to that inconceivable, interminable wretchedness, which must be the heritage of such
as are not found in Christ.
But who shall doubt that this might be the case?
There is no expiatory power or virtue in our sufferings.
They make no atonement.  If endured patiently, they
leave in full force the incurred penalties of God's Law; if
impatiently, they but incur fresh. Let this be remembered
by you all; for we will not undertake to say how far the
notion, which the parochial minister so often finds, in its
grosser forms, amongst the sick and suffering poor-the
notion of enduring all one's pains in this life, and therefore
finding ease and happiness in the next-may obtain place
in more refined shape, and under some specious disguise, in
those whose opportunities of knowing better should have
secured them against such delusion. A life of misery is no
security against an eternity of torment. You may lose
both worlds, wretched here, and wretched hereafter. Sorrows may be heaped upon you; you may be forced to
drain the very dregs of the cup of trembling.  But
throughout the most severe and terrible allotments, there
24




370                ST. BARNABAS.               [LECT.
may be the same unsubdued heart, the same centring of
the affections upon earthly things —ay, and, from what we
have now been observing, a growing opinion, that God is
exacting from you here the penalties of his law, that He
may be able to acquit you when brought to his bar. And
our present business is with the urging on you, that you
take heed how you infer that the path of tribulation must
be the path to glory. You are not to think, that, because
God " scourgeth every son whom IIe receiveth," therefore
every one whom He scourgeth must be a son. You are
not to think, that, because " many are the troubles of the
righteous," every one who has many troubles must therefore be righteous.  Oh, not so; sorrow may be the frequent accompaniment of godliness; but there may be multiplied and intense sorrow, where there is no godliness to
accompany. You must look for other proofs and evidences
of piety than sufferings, "whether in mind, body, or
estate:" for however commonly piety and sufferings may
be combined, it does not show that there is no piety, that
there is no special suffering; and far less does it show that
there is piety, that there is special suffering.
Be careful then of any misinterpretation or misapplication of the words of our text. For events may apparently
come alike to all. God may rebuke a wicked man in his
wrath, and a righteous man in his love: but the dealings
may wear the same aspect, though there is so wide a distinction in the originating cause.  And whilst all are
sinners, and whilst sorrow is fastened to sin, whether in
the way of appointed judgment, or of natural consequence,
it may, yea it must, be continually happening that calamities beset those who, all the while, are living in alienation




XIX.]               ST. BARNABAS.                371
from God, that tears are the portion, night and day, of
men who have no Scriptural ground for hope, that God
will finally wipe away tears from their eyes; and nevertheless the proposition of our text may be unimpeached, as
announcing an ordinary, if not invariable, appointment,
that " we must, through much tribulation, enter into the
Kingdom of God."
Now we trust that you will have thoroughly understood
the drift of the foregoing remarks. We have seen so
much tendency among the sick and the suffering, to the
taking the being visited with affliction as an evidence or
proof of being God's children, that we are very anxious
to point out what ought to be too manifest to need any
showing, that, though God's children are commonly afflicted,
all that are afflicted are not God's children. "Whom the
Lord loveth, lie correcteth," is a Scriptural proposition.
But "'whom  the Lord correcteth, He loveth," is a very
different sentiment; he who is a son may expect, that,
being such, he shall be chastened; but he who is chastened
must not, on that account, conclude himself a son.
There is however a wholly different, though an equally
erroneous, inference, which may be drawn from our text
and from  other passages of Scripture, which, in like
manner, associates suffering with piety. When one man, to
whose share fall more than common troubles, reads the
saying, that "we must through much tribulation enter the
Kingdom of God," there will be danger of his hastily
concluding, Then, surely, I have one great sign of being
on the way to the Kingdom, for "much tribulation" is
given as my lot. But when another who is not called to
extraordinary trials, whose course of life, on the whole, is




3'72                ST. BARNABAS.                [LECT.
one of evenness and peace, reads of entering the Kingdom
through "much tribulation," there is great likelihood of
his suspecting that he is destitute of a chief evidence of
being a child of God; The children, he will say, are chastened and corrected; can I then be a child, who experience
little or nothing of this fatherly discipline? This is a case
which comes under the parochial minister's observation, if
not as frequently as the former, yet sufficiently often to
render it right that we give it a careful consideration.
There is hardly a shape or form which doubts may not
assume; if the greatness of trouble distress and harass one
Christian, the very want of trouble may be a trouble to
another. And certainly one may observe many cases, in
which, for many years, God seems to have done to an
individual or a family what Satan alleged as the producing cause of the piety of Job, " Hast thou not made
an hedge about him, and about his house, and about all
that he hath on every side? thou hast blessed the work
of his hands, and his sustenance is increased in the land."
Every thing goes smoothly and brightly; the party is
an object of great respect and esteem: death makes no
inroad into the household: there is prosperity in business:
children grow up "in the nurture and admonition of the
Lord;?' and the whole domestic aspect, or picture, is that
of a choice and curtained spot, which the Almighty Himself has marked off for exemption  from  those rough
visitations which so often lay waste the homes and hearts
of the children of men.
How natural for an individual, whatever his earnestness and sincerity in religion, when he observes how he
thus seems defended and shielded, to experience something




XIX.]               ST. BARNABAS.                 3' 3
like uneasiness on hearing or reading our text! how
natural for him to say, Can I indeed be on my way to
God's Kingdom, when thus exempted from those " many
tribulations," which an Apostle asserts to be the necessary
entrance? Ah, my brother, life is not finished yet; there
may remain time enough for many reverses, many funerals,
many disappointments, many calamities. Be not impatient
for the coming of trial; but keep always praying, that,
when it comes, you may have patience for its endurance.
It will come soon enough, sooner perhaps than you will be
ready to meet it. It does not take long to darken the
brightest sky, when God has once "commanded the clouds
from above:;" when He restrains not his east wind, there
is no need of years, moments suffice, to blight the sweetest
flowers, and nip the choicest buds. And in the mean time,
thou canst not justly say, thou hast no trial: the want of
trial is thy trial; unbroken sunshine may be a trial as well
as continued storm-ay, why not even a greater, as making
thee doubtful of thy " calling and election?" for an old
writer justly says, "Pain of the body is after all but the
body of pain;" it is the pain of the soul which is the soul
of pain: and certainly to one, who truly loves God, there
cannot be a severer thing, than that, whatsoever it be,
which causes him to doubt whether God loves him. He
might more readily welcome troubles which brought
witness of his being a son, than preserve exemptions which
breed suspicions of his being an alien. So that long uninterrupted prosperity may be the portion of a wicked man:
it may also be the portion of a righteous man; with the
wicked it will nourish presumption and indifference to
religion; with the righteous it will suggest fears as to




374                 ST. BARNABAS.                [LECT.
acceptance with God; and these fears, springing from the
thought that the believer has not trial enough, may themselves constitute no common trial.
Though, in all honesty, there is another view which
should be taken of the question, Can I be a true Christian,
when I have so little of tribulation   We might meet the
question with another, Why have I so little tribulation?
Do you think that the " much tribulation," spoken of in
our text, is made up exclusively of Twhat the world counts
disasters and calamities? Nay, not so, else how could our
blessed Lord speak of our taking up the cross " daily," and
following Him? The " tribulation" consists greatly in conflict with our own evil hearts, in the grief occasioned by
our frequent fallings into sin, in the sorrow and the shame
of finding the lines of the Divine image so faintly traced
within, the power of corruption still so strong, the will so
biassed, and the affections so depraved. And know ye
nothing of this tribulation?  Alas, that were tribulation
indeed. He who cannot find trouble enough inside, has
stronger ground for fears as to his spiritual condition than
the finding none outside.  Though, it must further be
inquired, how comes there to be no external tribulation?
The tribulations of which St. Paul spake, were, we know,
to arise mainly from the persecutions to which the bold
profession of Christianity would then expose the converts
from idolatry. But has the' offence of the cross ceased?
Is there no longer any such thing as the being "persecuted
for righteousness' sake?"  Nay, if true religion have never
made you an enemy, be not too sure that you are not an
enemy to it. The offence of the cross cannot wholly cease,
because it is the heart, as it is human, rather than man, as




XIX.]              ST. BARNABAS.                 3175
he is heathen, by which the prejudice is felt. The world
must dislike genuine piety, as that by which it is opposed,
reproved, condemned; and it ought to make us doubt
whether our piety be genuine, if it never cause a clashing
between the world and ourselves. Do you say that you
know nothing of " tribulation" as occasioned by religion?
But are you quite sure that you have done your duty as a
religious man?  Have you been faithful in the reproving
sin, in the not suffering sin upon your neighbour?  Have
you drawn the line with due breadth and distinctness,
between the world and yourself?  No wonder, if the
world do not persecute you, when you do not openly
separate from the world. No wonder, if you have not incurred much obliquy, dislike, and contempt, if you have
been conceding to the world, handling its faults with the
greatest possible gentleness, and practically slurring over,
so far as you could or dared, the distinguishing characteristics which mark off its votaries from faithful followers of
Christ.
Suppose you were to make an experiment, ye who are
ready to express wonder and fear at having so little of
trial and tribulation, the experiment of being more rigid
and conscientious in the practice of Christian duties, of
being more faithful in telling men of their faults, more
zealous in seizing opportunities of defending and displaying
the doctrine of the Cross, more earnest in showing what
are the real and every-day doings and demandings of vital
religion. Ah, perhaps the result of such an experiment
would be the rapid removal of every ground of misgiving,
that your path was too easy to be the path of God's Kingdom. I do not mean that the experiment might bring




936                 ST. BARNABAS.              [LEcT,
trouble upon you in the shape of loss of property, or of
the frequent funeral, or of the bitter disappointment, or of
the carking care. But the cold dislike, the scornful laugh,
the ill-disguised contempt, the broken friendship, the keen
resentment, the injurious speech-these, which are the
weapons with which the world wages war, when and where
Christianity has the patronage of the State-these, which,
be ye well and thoroughly assured, are always brought
into exercise by the uncompromising display of Christian
principle and practice-these would sufficiently destroy the
character of your path, as being too comfortable, too
smooth, too much strewed with flowers, too little set with
thorns, to be the path to Heaven. Oh, there may be
riches, there may be health, there may be domestic enjoyment, there may be prosperous circumstances; but let a
believer labour earnestly at the doing his duty in that station of life wherein it hath pleased God to place him, his
duty in and to himself; his duty to the Church and to the
world, and we can be confident that he will not long find
or fancy in his experience any exception to the rule, which
St. Barnabas laid down in our text, that, "we must,
through much tribulation, enter into the Kingdom  of
God."
Now we have not thus so much either defended or
examined the assertion of our text, as considered two cases
in which a wrong use may be made of the passage-the
one, that in which the having to endure tribulation is unwarrantably taken in evidence of the being truly religious;
the other, that in which comparative exemption from tribulation is, as unwarrantably, thought to prove the not being
on the way to the Kingdom of Heaven. On the one hand,




XIX.]                ST. BARNABAS.                  377
we have wished to guard you against a false comfort; on
the other, against a false fear-false comfort, which men
may draw from their griefs; false fear, which they may
ground on their blessings.
But let us not forget that the Church commemorates
this day the son of consolation; and let us now, therefore,
observe that the text affixes a particular character to afflictions, as the ordinary instruments through which God fits
his people for their glorious inheritance.  For you may
clearly see, from the mode of expression which he adopts,
that Barnabas does not merely assert a fact, that we shall
have "much tribulation:" he alleges a suitableness, that
this " much tribulation" is the due preparation for the kingdom. "We must,"-it behoves, it is needful for us.  He
gives much the same representation as is given in the verse
already quoted from St. Paul, " Our light affliction, which
is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding
and eternal weight of glory."  But how " worketh for us?"
The Apostle cannot mean that the affliction produces the
glory, in any thing of the sense in which a cause produces
an effect. It does not work for us glory, as if it made satisfaction for sin, and opened to us Heaven. This is the
error that has been combated in an earlier part of our discourse; and again and again be it said, that no amount of
suffering here can be taken in substitution for suffering
hereafter. 0 ye children of sorrow, dream of any thing
rather than of what ye endure now excusing you from
future punishment, or giving you a sort of title to rest
beyond the grave. But affliction "worketh for us glory"
in the sense of preparing, or fitting, us for glory: God
thereby disciplines his people, detaches them from earthly




378                  ST. BARNABAS.                [LrCT,
things, refines their affections: it is in the furnace of trial
that He makes them holier, using the trial to burn out, so
to speak, the indwelling corruption; and whatsoever tends
to increase present holiness, tends equally to increase future
happiness; there being, as we are taught, an appointed
proportion between the two, or rather, the one containing
in it the germ, or even the very essence of the other.
And thus, also, as affliction worketh for us-glory, working in us meetness, or fitness, for glory, so is it necessary
that, through much tribulation, we enter the Kingdom.
Not indeed that the tribulation is indispensable; for God,
if He pleased, could make us ready for the Kingdom,
through some other process than that of "much tribulation;" but the "much tribulation" is his ordinary course;
so that, as a general rule, we "must" endure it, we must
look to endure it, if we hope for final entrance to a land
of light and life. And what a character does this give to
tribulation! I understand from this what St. Paul means
when he says, "We glory in tribulations."  Glory in
them! was then the Apostle a Stoic? did he profess to
make light of pain, and to count it no evil?  Nay, it was
no Stoic that could say, as he said of Epaphroditus, "He
was sick nigh unto death; but God had mercy on him,
and not on him only, but on me also, lest I should have
sorrow upon sorrow." And in place of accounting pain
no evil, this same Apostle hath elsewhere distinctly said,
" No chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but
grievous." Yea, and you should carefully observe that
our text is so constructed as to show that Barnabas and
Paul were not laying down a rule for others, from which
they were to be exempted themselves.  There is a sudden




XIX.]               ST. BARNABAS.                3T9
change of persons in the verse. You observe that, the
third person having been used, whilst mention is made of
the Apostles as "confirming the souls of the disciples, and
exhorting them to continue in the faith," the first person
is employed when the discourse comes to turn on the
tribulations which would have to be endured. "We must,
through much tribulation, enter into the Kingdom  of
God."  It is as though Barnabas and Saul, when they had
to speak of suffering, from which nature is most averse,
were careful to have it understood, that they were speaking of that in which themselves had full share: it is as
though St. Luke, when recording the exhortation for tile
instruction of the Church in every age, was directed to
throw it into such form, that no one should ever be able
to read the latter part, without being reminded that it
included himself.
But if St. Paul thus identify himself with tribulation,
and if, from expressions already quoted, he were no Stoic,
but thoroughly sensitive to tribulation, how are we to
explain his glorying in tribulation? how could he "glory
in tribulation," and yet reckon chastening not to be " joyous but grievous?" This is easily explained. He reckoned
tribulation grievous in itself; but he gloried in it as a
preparation for Heaven. He felt it to be an evil; but he
would not have been without it for any thing which you
could have offered himl; it was making him ready for the
blessed abode which Christ had made ready for him; and
he knew that the one preparation was just as needful as
the other-what availed it that the place should be prepared for the inhabitant, unless the inhabitant were also
prepared for the place? Heaven can be Heaven to those




380                 ST. BARNABAS.              [LECT
only who are made meet for Heaven: should he then
glory in the rearing of the palace, and in the throwing
open its doors? and should he not also glory in what
schooled him to pass the gates, and find a home in the
magnificent structure? He gloried then in tribulationnot from him would come congratulatory speech on beholding a Christian apparently exempt fiom visitations of
trouble. His congratulations were more likely to have
been heard, when sorrow had broken, as an armed man,
into a household, and grief had set up its abode, like one
who did not mean to be speedily or easily dislodged.
"We glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation worketh patience, and patience experience, and experience
hope."  Who then can wish to be without tribulation?
It were caring but little for the Kingdom, to care much for
the tribulation through which we must enter it.
Nay, and this is but a half statement: this is as though
tribulation were only a something to be passed through;
whereas it is a preparation: it is that out of which glory
is to grow: tears turn to jewels in the crown; sighs to
songs upon the harp; poverty becomes wealth; bereavement, possession; contumely, triumph. Again, therefore,
we ask, who would wish to be without tribulation?
Whilst indeed God is pleased to keep sorrow from your
doors, it is not for you to seek it, but rather to take thankfully the blessing and the brightness so graciously bestowed: and, whilst you have the heart to keep with all
diligence, and sin to reprove with all faithfulness, you will
always, as we have shown you, have trouble enough to
employ you, and to exercise. But do not shrink, if there
be signs as of the disturbing of the external peacefulness,




XIX.]               ST. BARNABAS.                 381
if the clouds begin to gather, and God seem about to give
you "the bread of adversity, and the water of affliction."
Rather prepare to bid sorrow welcome. Rather receive it
with a solemn joy, with a thankful submission. There are
other forms which attend its sad and measured march,
besides those of anxiety and anguish. As it approaches,
palled in deep night, there are other voices, which fall on
the listening ear of faith, besides those which swell the
shriek and mingle in the dirge. The spirits of the departed righteous throng about calamity, as it turns its
fatal step towards the believer's door. Their utterance it
is, which is so distinctly and sweetly heard, amid the
murmurings of the gathering storm, "0 child of God,
wouldst thou be without chastisement, whereof all are
partakers?" wouldst thou forget thy Master's word, "In
the world ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer,
I have overcome the world?" wouldst thou be an exception to an experience whereof all we are witnesses —ay,
and the son of consolation it was who spake the wordsthat, " through much tribulation must men enter into the
Kingdom of God."




LECTURE XX.
GALATIANS V. 7.
" Ye did run well; who did hinder you that ye should not obey the truth l"
IN a recent discourse, we took occasion, from what is recorded of Asa-that his heart was perfect, though the high
places were not removed out of Israel-to speak to you of
the possibility that there might be decay at the heart in
the matter of religion, though as yet the life gave no signs
of spiritual decline.  But we have since felt as if we had
not gone sufficiently into so important a matter, as if we
had not examined with due accuracy the symptoms of the
insidious disease, as if we had not exposed with due faithfulness how frequent its occurrence, and how fatal its tendency. And as I purpose leaving you to-day for a brief
period of necessary relaxation, I should not feel easy if I
did not go at greater length, and with greater minuteness,
into this matter of spiritual decline-for how possible it
may be-ought I not even to say, how probable? —that
there are some amongst you who have begun well in a
Christian course, but who have been gradually growing




SPIRITUAL DECLINE.             383
slacker and slacker, less earnest in duty, less fervent in
affection; and to whom therefore may fitly be addressed
the pathetic remonstrance of St. Paul to the Galatians,
"Ye did run well; who did hinder you that ye should not
obey the truth 2" Perhaps we shall only be repeating-at
all events, only amplifying-the statement in a former
discourse: but better do this, better weary you with repetition, than run any risk of leaving you with vague and
indefinite notions, where it so much concerns your safety
that you should be alive to your danger. Observe then,
that, if we take as our topic of discourse what is called
spiritual declension; if we endeavour to examine the
symptoms, and expose the peril, of that moral disease
which eats away religion in the soul; we are not to be
regarded as speaking only to those-though such are not
excluded-who prove, by outward and undeniable signs,
that they are forsaking their God and Redeemer-the disease is rather one which, like that fatal malady, which
leaves the cheek beautiful and the eye brilliant, whilst it
rapidly undermines the strength, may allow external appearances to continue specious and flattering, though the
work of death is fast going on within. Observe, for instance, what is said, in the Book of Revelation, of the
Ephesian Church. " I know thy works, and thy labour,
and thy patience; and how thou canst not bear them
which are evil; and thou hast tried them which say they
are Apostles, and are not, and hast found them liars; and
hast borne, and hast patience, and for my name's sake hast
laboured, and hast not fainted."  Here, by a reduplication,
and even a repetition, of epithets, the idea is strongly conveyed of an active, persevering, and patient religion-a




384               SPIRITUAL DECLINE.             [LECT.
Church, of which all this could be said, must have been
distinguished by great readiness both to do and suffer in
the cause of God and his Christ. Yet the next words are,'c Nevertheless I have somewhat against thee, because thou
hast left thy first love." It is not laid to the charge of the
Ephesian Christians, it is not even insinuated, that they
laboured less than at first-but it is distinctly asserted,
that they loved less, as though that, which alone can give
the action any worth, may be on the wane whilst in the
action itself there is no perceptible difference.
Let us set ourselves, then, to the examining whether men
may not have a name to live whilst they are dead in God's
sight. May God enable us to be at once faithful and affectionate in detecting and exposing the signs of a disease,
under which, as we have said, it is but too possible that
some amongst you may be labouring, the disease of religious decline. May his Spirit, without which there can be
no right understanding of the things of religion, be our
guide whilst we endeavour to show you, in the first place,
how you may find out whether, according to the words of
our text, you are ceasing to " run well;" and in the second
place, what reasons there are for regarding the condition
so described as one of pre-eminent danger.
Now we have already pointed out to you that there
certainly was spiritual decline in the case of the Ephesian
Chri.stians-they no longer had that ardent affection which
they had felt and displayed when first converted from
idolatry: they were not as warm in their love towards
God and the Saviour; and they are plainly told, that,
unless they repented, and did the first works, they should
quickly be visited with the removal of their candlestick.




XX.]              SPIRITUAL DECLINE.               385
But in the last also of the Apocalyptic Epistles, which is
that to the Church of the Laodiceans, you have a denunciation of lukewarmness, the being neither hot nor cold in
religion, and an assertion of such indignation as felt in consequence by God, as you can scarcely perhaps find expressed in any other part of Scripture. This lukewarmness which is charged on the Laodiceans, can be only a
greater degree of that leaving their first love which is
charged on the Ephesians; and the utter loathing, with
which the lukewarm are spoken of, must indicate, that,
where spiritual declension has gone far, the man who is its
subject is held of God in perfect abhorrence. The language in our text will apply to any or all of the stages of
the disease-for the ceasing to run well may indicate a
slight, and almost imperceptible, decline of speed, and extend also to the slow and hesitating step which can scarcely
be said to make any progress in the heavenward path.
Thus there may be various stages of the disease; from that
of the man, in whom love is not quite as ardent as at the
first, to that of another, in whom it scarce retains any
thing of its original fervour. Amongst those who have
really " run well" in religion, and who still, to all outward
appearance, are true servants of Christ, we may have many
who are wasting away through the spiritual consumptionsome on whom the malady has only just gained a hold,
and others whom it has already reduced to little more
than moral skeletons. But whilst we endeavour to lay
before you certain of the symptoms of spiritual decline,
you must be honest and fearless with yourselves: if you
will not, as we proceed, search into your own cases, and
see how far they answer to our description, in vain imight
25




386                SPIRITUAL DECLINE.              [LECT.
we depict with a most thorough accuracy the signs and
stages of insidious disease.  Come then, let conscience do
its part, and we may, by God's help, assist you in determining this most momentous of questions, Might St. Paul
say of us, as of the Galatians of old, "Ye did run well;
who did hinder you that ye should not obey the truth?"
Now the first test, to which we would bring the professing Christian, anxious to determine whether he is ceasing to run well, is that furnished by secret prayer, and the
study of God's word. When a man is first brought to a
sense of the evil of sin, and of the graciousness of the
deliverance wrought out for him by Christ, he is frequent
and fervent in prayer, and he reads with great earnestness
the pages of Scripture.  And if he go on " running well"
in religion, he will be increasingly diligent in these private
duties, finding, every day, more and more against which,
and for which, to pray; and feeling the Bible to be a
store-house of instruction from  which it is his privilege
continually to draw. But now suppose, that, in place of
this, the Christian grows remiss in spiritual exercises, glad
of an excuse for shortening his devotions, easily satisfied
with any reason for omitting them, and speedily wearied
when he engages in their performance-what are we to
say of him, if not that he presents one great symptom of
spiritual decline? Prayer is not inaptly called the breathing of the soul; and you may be sure, that, where this
grows shorter and more difficult, there is no healthful play
in the organs of life. If any one of you is beginning to
abbreviate his seasons of private devotion, reading a
chapter or two less of the Bible, spending fewer moments
in meditation, in self-examination, and in supplication for




XX.]              SPIRITUAL DECLINE.              387
others and himself-and all, not because he has actually
less time at his disposal, but less will to devote it to such
occupation-let that man look at once to his state: the
fervency is departing from the love: the disease has
already made inroad on the spiritual constitution: he "did
run well;" alas, what has hindered him that he is no
longer obedient to the truth?
And as one great symlptom of spiritual declension may
be gathered from the more private means of grace, so may
another from the more public. The Christian, in whom
vital religion is in a healthy estate, attaches great worth
to the public ordinances, finding it vastly for his edification and comfort to join the worshipping assembly, to
listen to the preaching of the WVord, and to receive those
sacred elements which both represent and convey the
body and blood of his Redeemer. He would not willingly
absent himself from the congregation; for he has learnt
to exclaim with one of old,' How amiable are thy tabernacles!" "I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go
into the house of the Lord." Ile does not require to have
the messages of the Gospel adorned for him by human
rhetoric: it is the simple, beautiful truth, which he loves,
and which came home to him so thrillingly when first
l)rought to know the Lord; and this he recognises and
prizes, however humble the garb under which it is presented. Neither can he be content with occasional commulion, neglecting as frequently as he attends the most
solemn rite of our religion; he knows his need of that
flesh which is meat indeed, and of that blood which is
drink indeed; and thankfully avails himself of every
opportunity of obtaining spiritual sustenance.  Such is




388               SPIRITUAL DECLINE.             [LECT;
the Clhristian when his first love is in its strength, when he
is "running well," with the first vigour of dedication to
God. But suppose him to become less assiduous, and more
formal, in the public duties of religion; suppose that he
easily finds excuses for staying away firom church-a
degree of sickness, or a state of the weather, which would
never keep him from any worldly engagement, keeping
him friom public worship-suppose that he get satiated
with the simple Gospel, and cannot be contented, unless
he have flowery and oratorical preaching: suppose, yet
further, that he reduces his sacramental attendances to
certain high festivals, communicating at Christmas, Whitsuntide, and Easter, but finding no inconvenience from
spiritually fasting all the year besides-what are we to say
of him, if not that he has ceased to " run well?" he is
losing the spiritual appetite, so that he no longer " hungers
and thirsts after righteousness"-can we doubt then the
progress of the spiritual decline?
But let us take other symptoms, equally decisive,
though perhaps more easily overlooked.  There is no
feeling stronger in a genuine Christian, than that of a
desire to promote God's glory, and the salvation of his
fellow-men. The consciousness of having received vast
and unmerited benefits, the sense of gratitude for his own
deliverance from condemnation, the apprehension of the
greatness of that wrath which will overtake the impenitent-these constrain him, whilst warm with first love, to
the counting nothing too costly or laborious, so that Christ
may be magnified, and those who are sitting in darkness
may see a great light. But suppose him to become comparatively indifferent to the diffusion of the Gospel-not




XX.]             SPIRITUAL DECLINE.              389
indeed withdrawing his subscriptions from societies, but
taking little or no interest in their failure or success; not
declining all part in the enterprises of Christian philanthropy, but engaging only so far as there is bustle, and
show, and excitement-so that it is not with the heart,
though it may be with the purse and the hand, that he
helps forward the cause of the Redeemer-ah, who will
say that there is no abatement in the " running well?" who
will deny the spiritual declension?
And again —there is a broad line of separation between
men of the world, and men of religion. Those who have
been renewed in the spirit of their minds, and those who
are still in the alienation of nature, differ immeasurably
the one from the other, and cannot unite, except as the
former abandon their principles, or the latter undergo a
great moral change. And the healthful Christian is quite
aware of this. He knows that separation from the world
must be his distinguishing characteristic; and he guards
accordingly, with godly jealousy, against any such conformity as would do violence to his profession. His conscience
is tender; and whensoever there may be doubt as to what
is lawful for him, and what unlawful, he will always take
the safe side, feeling it better for him to give up what he
might have retained, than to retain what he ought to give
up. But there may be, and often is, a great change in
these respects. The man of religion comes to view the
world with less fear and repugnance. He fancies that he
has been hitherto overstrict, and that he might safely
conform, more closely than he has done, to the customs
and fashions of the ungodly. The conscience grows more
accommodating; and now the calculation is, how far he




390               SPIRITUAL DECLINE.            [LECT.
may venture, how much of earthly pleasure he may allow
himself, how nearly he may sail on the same tack with
the world, without actually steering for the same port.
Alas, this is among the strongest of symptoms, that the
man has ceased from " running well:" he who is less and
less scrupulous as to the being "conformed to this world,"
must be already far gone in spiritual decline.
And not unlike the symptom of making light of the
difference between the religious and the worldly, is that of
the making light of differences between various creeds.
The peculiar and distinguishing doctrines of the Gospel
are prized by the genuine and ardent Christian, as treasures
without which he were unutterably poor. It is not as the
tenets of the Church to which he belongs that he values
them —he rests on them all his hopes of everlasting happiness; and he, therefore, who attacks them, seeks to rob
him  of his all, and leave him  bankrupt for eternity.
Hence he looks with abhorrence on Socinianism: it would
strip Christ of divinity; and this, he feels, were to strip
himself of immortality. He looks with dread upon Popery: by its fables and falsehoods, though mixed with fundamental truths, it keeps the sinner from the Saviour, and
substitutes dross for gold; and whatever obscures the
mediatorial work involves him in a darkness from which
he can find no escape. But this repugnance to error may
not continue. Whilst thoroughly orthodox in his creed,
he may be less alive to the importance of its doctrines.
He may come to look more leniently upon heresy, confounding bigotry with the honest attachment of truth, and
mistaking for charity a growing indifference to falsehood.
And wherever there is any of this lowered sense of the




XX.]              SPIRITUAL DECLINE.              391
indispensableness of fundamental truth, and of an increasing disposition to think lightly of wrong systems of religion-as though, after all, the heretical and orthodox, the
reformed and unreformed, if there were but a few mutual
concessions, might meet on the same ground, and shake
hands as brethren-you may be sure that the Christian
course is ceasing to be "well run:" whilst that proceeds
vigorously, the relish for truth is shown by a loathing of
falsehood; but when that grows languid, the taste is less
keen; error is no longer nauseated: the world applauds
the Christian for having become liberal, whereas he should
grieve over himself as having become lukewarm.
These, then, are certain of the symptoms, by which you
may detect the presence of spiritual consumption. Though
all should moreover remember, that it is against the very
nature of religion to suppose a man stationary; so that
any one who sees no reason to hope that he is advancing,
has reason for fear that he is declining. Judge then yourselves, ye who would know whether ye are the subjects of
spiritual declension-can ye find cause to hope, after a
rigid process of self-examination, that ye are the subjects
of spiritual advancement? Are you more humble than
you were, more sensible of your sinfulness, stronger in
faith, warmer in love, less attached to earthly things, more
attracted by heavenly? Is it a greater privilege to you to
pray, a less labour to be obedient? Have you a firmer command over your passions? is the will more in harmony
with the divine? is the conscience more sensitive, and is
the judgment prompter in deciding for the right against
the agreeable? In prosperity, have you less of pride and
self-confidence? in adversity, have you more of patience




392              SPIRITUAL DECLINE.             [LECT.
and acquiescence? Indeed, if you have cause to conclude
that you have stood still, you have verily cause to conclude
that you have gone back.
But we have now spoken sufficiently on the symptoms
of spiritual decline, sufficiently, we mean, for every practical purpose-our object being that of enabling the sick
man to determine whether he have the disease, and not
that of curiously noting down every sign and shade of
the malady. It is our business to endeavour to come down
amongst you, as a physician, with his instruments in his
hands, that we may determine, if possible, whether the
lungs be yet sound, and whether consumption may not
lurk where there is no taint as yet on the outward appearance. We apply our instruments, or rather, we entreat
you to apply them for yourselves. It is nothing to us that
your profession is still that of godliness, and that you have
not visibly returned to the world and its iniquities. It is
an insidious disease, of which we are in quest-not open
apostacy, which all might discover and denounce,-but
secret declension, which may be scarcely detected, till it
have reached its last stage. We try you by what you are
when on your knees: we try you by what you are when
brought into God's house, and by what, when exposed to
the cold winds of the world. We listen for the beatings
of the heart: we inquire what lassitude is produced by
exercise, and what food taken with appetite. And with
all frankness, but yet with all affection, we assure those of
you who may be making a Christian profession, that, if
they have fallen into habits of shortening their season of
private devotion-and, much more, if they have no such
seasons at all-if they have comparatively no relish for




XX.]              SPIRITUAL DECLINE.               393
the simple Gospel, but must have it garnished up by man,
before it can be palatable; if they can do without the
Sacrament, except on high festivals; if they can conform
themselves to the world as nearly as they dare, and are
always calculating how small a sacrifice will serve for religion if they think; less of the differences between error
and falsehood, and reckon it charitable to become latitudinarian-ay, and even if, on a careful review of past years,
they cannot judge themselves to have advanced in spiritualmindedness, and those various graces which are the fruits
of the Spirit-we tell them, that if they find, not all, but
any, of these symptoms in themselves, they ought to conclude that disease has begun, if it have not already made
fatal progress: they may still be able to appeal to their
works, their labour, and their patience; but they ought to
feel that St. Paul, were he on earth, would address them
as he addressed the Galatians, "Ye did run well; who did
hinder you that ye should not obey the truth 2"
And here we come to the considering the dangerousness
of the state which is thus metaphorically described-for
some of you might be disposed to say, Well, what if we be
not running as well as we did, we may still be running
sufficiently well to reach Heaven at last. But if you remember how our Lord reasoned in regard of salt which
lost its savour, you will be forced to the conclusion, that he
who has the disease on which we discourse, must almost be
considered as having entered " the valley of the shadow
of death."  "If the salt have lost his savour, wherewith
shall it be seasoned? It is neither fit for the land, nor yet
fcr the dunghill, but men cast it out." It is not the difficulty of infusing salt at first, on which these words bear;




394               SPIRITUAL DECLINE.             [LECT.
but the difficulty, when salt has been infused, and its
strength has evaporated, of restoring the savour which it
originally possessed. And in like manner the grand difficulty is not that of producing Christian love at the first,
but of restoring its heat, when it has been suffered to grow
cold. But why should the difficulty be greater? might it
not be thought that it would even be less, seeing that the
man, who has only degenerated, is not, at least, insensible
to the claims of religion, and has proved himself not invulnerable to moral attack? We reply that, even amongst
ourselves, and in reference to human attachments, the difficulty of reviving a decayed affection is almost proverbial.
The party who has loved, and then ceased to love, is, of
all others, the least likely to love again. If the fire of
affection have once gone out, it is of all things the hardest
to re-illumine the embers. And the difficulty which is experienced in the revival of a human affection must be
looked for, when it is the love of God and of Christ which
has grown languid. You are to observe that a great deal
must have been done for the man in whom the love of
God has once been kindled. The Spirit of God must have
striven with this man, striven with him successfully, so as
to have roused in him the dormant immortality, and brought
him to some experience of the power of the Gospel. But
this Divine agent will not persist in working where there
is no earnestness in holding fast what has already been
wrought. If lie have given some measure of spiritual
warmth, and you expose yourselves to damp, or unnecessarily permit the cold winds of temptation to beat on you,
He will work with less and less energy, or communicate
less and less of animating grace.




XA.j             SPIRITUAL DECLINE.             395
It is very mainly on this account that we look with so
much apprehension on any case of spiritual decline. It is
not the actually irreligious man on whom the disease can
fasten. It must be a man on whom religion has had a
hold; and in the weakening of that hold is our great evidence of his danger. For that hold could not have been
weakened, except through compliances with the world, or
omissions of known duty, for which the man himself is
wholly answerable, and which not only loosen what has
already been fastened, but alienate that Spirit which can
alone restore firmness. And we cannot but suppose that
this Spirit is more displeased when neglected by one in
whom He has effectually wrought, than when resisted by
another with whom it has striven in vain.
There is treachery in the first case, the cutting slight,
and the base ingratitude, which will be far more likely to
grieve the Divine agent than the open opposition which
distinguishes the last. And if every one of you who may
be the subject of spiritual declension, can only have become so through provoking the withdrawment of the
renewing influences of the Holy Ghost, what marvel if we
look upon him with no common alarm? How is it that
the love has lost its fervour, except that that Spirit, which
alone can keep it ardent, has withdrawn its holy fires? and
how shall it be made to burn again, if its very dimness be
as much a proof of your having driven away that Spirit,
as an evidence of his departure? the lost heat can be restored by none but God's Spirit, and it would not have
been lost, had not that Spirit left man, in just judgment,
to himself. Oh then, there may be none to prove to you
that you are in danger of eternal destruction, because you




39 6             SPIRITUAL DECLINE.            [LECT
have manifestly gone back to the world, because you have
visibly restored the empire to evil, and returned to open
enmity with righteousness-yet know ye of a truth, that,
as involving the alienation of the Holy Ghost, -it is to
stand within a hairbreadth of everlasting ruin, to stand in
such a position that. an Apostle might say to you, as to
the Galatians of old, "Ye did run well; who did hinder
you that ye should not obey the truth 2"
But, you will say, the Spirit may be recalled, and then
the smothered flame may be rekindled, the lost speed recovered.  We will not deny it-God forbid that we
should. We are not required to make the case out hopeless, but only full of difficulty. But this we must sayand we say it mainly for the warning of those who are
still "running well"-that the very circumstance of the
having been concerned as to religion, and then grown indifferent, is wondrously calculated to prevent the use of
those means, through which the Spirit may be induced to
resume his abode in the soul. The man is lukewarm; and
Christ exclaims in the Epistle to the lukewarm Laodiceans,
"I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot; I
would thou wert cold or hot." If this mean any thing, it
must mean that Christ had more hope of the cold than of
the lukewarm-one thing or the other, cold or hot, He
emphatically wishes for, implying special abhorrence of
that which was neither.  And we are not surprised at
this. The man who has cooled gradually down, but who
yet retains some measure of spiritual heat, will be the last
to allow or suspect any danger: feeling yet a degree of
warmth, he will conclude himself as zealous in religion as
religion requires, and count it enthusiasm to pretend or




XX.]              SPIRITUAL DECLINE.              397
desire to be more.  It was thus with the Laodiceans.
" Thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and
have need of nothing, and knowest not that thou art
wretched and miserable, and poor and blind, and naked."
They were self-complacent, and  self-complacency  was
amongst the worst features of their state, because exactly
calculated to keep them what they were, to prevent them
from discovering, and therefore from attempting to correct
their degeneracy. The lukewarm will have ordinarily just
heat enough to keep him from perceiving the cold; and
so, whilst the fire is going out, he will be quite pleased
with its blaze. Here then the question presses with fresh
force, how shall the half-extinguished flame be rekindled?
I know that the Spirit of God, through its irresistible fires,
could restore the love to its pristine condition.  Yea, I
know that this Spirit, however grieved and provoked to
withdraw its influence, is ready to return, if there be only
contrition, and an earnest desire to regain the lost ardour.
But it is the very property of the diminished heat to seem
hot enough; and therefore, not because there is no power
to warm, but no wish to be warmed, is there a fearful
probability that the subject of spiritual decline will never
be recovered, but continue deteriorating day by day,
though up to the very last he may not only pass with
others for a genuine Christian, but be unsuspicious himself
that he has no right to the character.
And if this decaying of the first love, this declining
from the first speed, go on, so that we have the form of
godliness with none of its power, indeed there are perhaps
no terms too strong for the describing what the professor
becomes. Take away the life from religion, leave us noth



398               SPIRITUAL DECLINE.             [LECT.
ing but formality-and there is not on the face of theb
earth an individual so useless to others and himself, as the
one in whom love remains, but remains in its ashes, and
not in its fires. We are not speaking of actual apostacy
The man who makes profession of religion, and then
openly abandons that profession, is indeed chargeable with
aiming a heavy blow at Christianity; for he publicly declares, that, having put the thing to the proof, having
made trial for himself, he has ascertained it to be better
and wiser to take side with the world than with God.
But the apostate is not the man in whom the love has
merely lost its warmth, or the spiritual step its speed; he
is the man who has cast out the love altogether; there is
no disguise about him; whatever his disease, the symptoms
are all external. whatever his danger, it is plain to every
eye. And this is not the case which we now have in hand.
We are now upon love which is dying away; and we
affirm the lukewarm man useless to himself and to others
-to himself, for such religion as his will never save him;
to others, for such religion will not enable him to be instrumental to the saving his fellow-men. " He that hath
ears to hear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the
Churches." There is no subject on which you can be addressed of greater difficulty and importance than that
which is now engaging your attention. We have endeavoured to put you in possession of the symptoms and
dangers of spiritual disease, before leaving you for a few
weeks; but we are still quite dissatisfied; for we seem to
have altogether failed in expressing our own sense, whether
of the commonness, or of the fearfulness, of the disease,
which we have wished to expose.




XX.]              SPIRITUAL DECLINE.              399
We have striven to be simple and faithful, avoiding all
such speech as might have diverted the mind from the
solemn points in discussion, and dealing with you just as a
medical practitioner would deal with those in whom he
feared that a secret poison might be at work, and whom
he was anxious to instruct in the detecting its presence.
And yet, before leaving you, we could almost wish to go
over the whole ground again, fearing that we have not
been plain enough, or not explicit enough, or not earnest
enough. For how can we be sufficiently energetic and
faithful, when it is but too possible, that, even amongst
the apparently righteous and consistent of our hearers,
there may be going forwards a process of decay? so that
whilst, Tuesday after Tuesday, we summon the wicked
to forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts,
those to whom the summons is not addressed, and who
would never dream of applying it to themselves, may be
wasting down into the mere wreck of Christianity, losing
all the strength of religion, and suffering all its essence to
escape.
Or if-in place of speaking especially to the unconverted-a class of which we dare hardly doubt that it
constitutes a large section of our hearers, we dilate on the
privileges of believers, on the freeness of their justification,
on the promises made to them by " God who cannot lie,"
and on the inheritance reserved for them in Heaven; how
can we be otherwise than startled as the conviction comes
over us, that the discourse may be admired and appropriated by some who never doubt its close reference to
themselves, though all the while they may be ceasing to
"run well," and may therefore be becoming the lukewarm,




400               SPIRITUAL DECLINE.            [LEcT.
whoml Christ declares that He holds in utter abhorrence?
It is, as we have several times intimated, the insidiousness
of the disease, which makes it so difficult to cope with,
and so likely to be fatal. The analogy or resemblance is
continually forced on us, between what our medical men
call consumption, and what our theological call spiritual
decline. You knor very well that the presence of consumption is often scarcely suspected, till the patient is
diseased past recovery. The worm has been eating out
the core of life; and yet its ravages have been overlooked
-for the victim hardly seemed to languish-and if the
hectic look may have occasionally excited a parent's fears,
they have been quickly allayed by assurances that no pain
was felt, and by smiles which appeared prophetic of life.
And even when no doubt can exist in the minds of others
as to the presence and progress of the malady, it is, we
might almost say, one symptom of the complaint, that it
flatters the patient, so that often he will be expecting
recovery on the day of his death. Every clergyman who
visits the sick has seen much of this. It is not an unfrequent feeling in young persons, that they should like to
die of consumption, because they suppose this lingering
mode of quitting life well adapted to preparation for the
last dread account. But they little know with what difficulty the consumptive patient is brought to look death in
the face; there is perhaps no disease which less tells its
victim what its fatal errand is; you know how beautifully
brilliant it often makes the eye and the cheek-alas, this
is but emblematic of what it does upon the heart, flushing
it with hope, and. suffusing it with light, when the winding-sheet is woven, and the evening shadows are falling.




Xx.]              SPIRITUAL DECLINE.               401
But this disease, so insidious, so flattering, so fatal, is
the exact picture of spiritual decline. Indeed, there is one
point of difference; but it only makes the moral malady
the more formidable of the two. It may be hard to make
the consumptive patient see his danger —but that danger
is apparent enough to others; friends and neighbours,
however unsuspicious at first, become well aware of the
painful truth as disease is more confirmed.  But where
there is spiritual decline, it may be unsuspected to the last.
Ministers and kinsmen may perceive no difference in the
man-equally regular in the public duties of religion;
equally large in his charities; equally honourable in his
dealings; equally pure in his morals. This was the case,
as we showed you, with the Ephesian Church. They were
the same'in their patience, in their labour, in their works,
and nevertheless they had left their first love. They had
ceased to "run well." The fatal symptoms may be all
internal; and because they are not such as to draw observation, there will be no warning given by others; and the
sick man, inot examining himself, and not finding that his
religious friends suppose his health on the decline, will be
all the more likely to feel persuaded of his safety, and to
learn his disease, alas! only from his death.
"He that hath ears to hear, let him hear."  We would
not willingly, at any time-more especially when leaving,
as we now do, for the few next weeks, our accustomed
place-do that which is spoken of in the Prophet, "make
the heart of the righteous sad whom  God hath not made
sad."  But in an age of great religious profession, and
when moreover we have not the fires of persecution to
furnish tests of the strength and fervency of our love, we




402               SPIRITUAL DECLINE.
ought t to take frequent opportunities of setting before you
the fearful probability, that many are baclksliders who are
thought to be steadfast, and that many have let go the
spirit, who still retain all the form of devotion. See to it,
men and women,  whether or not there be amongst you
this spiritual canker. Ye may find out, by the symptoms
which we laboured to exhibit, whether or not you are in
any measure ceasing to " run well."  Ye mnust be honest
and bold with yourselves; the case is not one for trifling,
and you are not to shrink from proving yourselves diseased. Go down into your hearts; try the pulse tMere;r
use the thermometer there; stay not upon the surface
where a thousand things may preserve the appearance of
animation, and induce what will pass for the glow of life
and health; but descend into yourselves, search into yourselves, and be content with no evidence but that of an
increasing love of God, and an increasing hatred of sin.
And if the freshness have gone out of your love, and
you detect the degeneracy; if the heat have diminished,
and you ascertain the lukewzarmness; if the lungs are
affected, and you prove the unsoundness-it is not despair,
but effort, which we preach to you  wre do not leave you
for a season, bidding you reckon all lost, but bidding you
strive that all may be recovered-for even to the Laodiceans, the Laodiceans of whoml  He had spoken in terms of
absolute loathing, our blessed 7Redeemer could say,'"I
counsel thee to buy of me gold tried in the fire, that thou
mayest be rich; and white raiment, that thou mayest be
clothed; and anoint thine eyes with eyesalve, that thou
mayest see."




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