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Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mithode. rrata o lelure. Id J 32X 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 CI 9 SEP 1963 CHRIST AN» CHRISTIAN LIFE. ....uNS Pbeached in ZiON Church, Brantford. . BY THE REV. WILLIAM (UfCJlHANK, l>. I> (Author vf the '' Hcavcnfij Vision:') \ TORONTO: ADAM, STEVENSON & CO. BR ANTFORU : JOHN SUTIIEKLAND. IH76. Daily IIxpositor Powkh Printino House, GeoKOE St., liUANTFORD. r PREFATORY NOTE. The sermons in this volume have been issued from month to month during the year. For the most imrt they treat of Christian faith and practice. It is earnestly hoped that, under God's blessing, they may be found useful beyond the limits of the congregation, for whose benefit they were in the first instance; prepared. Brantford, January, 187G. \ \ CONTENTS. I'AGK I. Christ Crucified. " I determined not to know anytliing among you, save .Tesns Christ and Him cmcified."— Isr Curinthianh, ii. 2. '• (Jhrist in yon the hope of glory ; whom we preach, warning every man and teaching every man ia all wisdom that w^e may ))*ro^J** **^®^ "^*" perfect in Christ Jesus. "—Coloksianh i, *7, <60 1 No Rest on Earth. *• Arise ye and depart for this is not your rest."— Micah, ii. 10. ^ ••There remaineth, therefore, a rest for the people of God."— Hebrewm iv. 9 , . _ 13 III. Walking in the Light. ' ♦•O house of Jacob, come ye, and let us walk in the light of the Lord."— Isaiah u. 5 ° 25 IV. A Lajib for a Burnt Offering. "Behold the fire and the wood; but where is the lamb for the burnt offering ? My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt ofienng."— Genesis xxii. 7, 8 3y First Love. " Thou hast left thy first love, "-Revelations ii. 4 49 VI rONTKNTS. VI. Thrseveranck of the Saints. ^ ^^^^ Kept by tl. power of God, thron^hfaith unto HalvaUnn. -1 ^ ^^ l*ETi.'::. i. '"' VII. The Growth of the Kingdom. Cometh a tree, m that the bn* of the the branches thereof. l;i„,rdoin of heaven is " Another parable «P»ke ¥ »f ' * a" touk^and hid ?n three mea.- «^:, CerSK'^rwr Cene.V-MATT,n.v .n. :a.- ^^ :« VIII. Duty Measured by Ability. ^^ •' She hatb done what she could."-MARK xu-. 8 • • IX. Fidelity in Little Things. Luke xvi. 10 X. Perfect Peace. "Then wilt keep him in perfect veaoe, whose mind is stayed on ^^^ thee."— Isaiah xxvi. 3 XL Christian Joy. .. Then he said unto them, Ro your way^^ eat tbejat and drink the ,weet, »d send I»rt.ons„n^otl^«n^f-^^^^^^ FoTth^ joy Sthe Zord'^fi yo«"t'e"B'''-"--N™EMTAH vm. 10. . 121 XII. God's Hidden Ones. * ^^^^ " Thy hidden ones."— Psai.ms Ixxxiii. » 73 b7 110 121 I rONTKNTS. XIII. vu r.UiE LoviNci Kindness Rkmemijeuld. "I luivi- iiut, coiieeiiled tliy Invini,' kimhuHS from tht; great congre- gation. "' " We liave thought of tliy los ing kinthioss, <) OocI, in the midst of tliy temple." -PsALM.s xl. 10, AN1» xlviii, 10. " I will mention the loving kindne.sHof the Jiord."— I.SAIAH Ixiii. 7. ir> XIV. The Anchou Within the Veil. *' An anchor of the soul, lioth Mire .ind steadfast, and which en- tereth into that within the veil." Hemrkws vl. 1!) 157 XV. How L<>N(i iiAvi: I TO Live".' " And the King said unto Bari'.ilLii. Come thuu over with me, and 1 will feed thee with me in Jerusalem. And Barzillai said unto the King, How long have 1 to live that I should go up with thee to Jerusalem ? I am this day fourscore yeara old ; and can I discern between good and evil ? Can thy servant taste what I eat or what I drink ? Can I hear any more the voice of singing men and s^inging women ? Wherefori', then, should thy servant be vet a bunicu unto mv Lord the King?" — 2>'D Samuel xx. 3;v3b ^ lo:) XVI. Sunset at Mid- Day. •' And Mose,-. was au hundred and twenty years old when he died ; his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated." 1)eutl;honomy xxxiv. 7 ISO XVII. All Things with Christ. *' He that sjiared not his own son, but delivered b;m up for us all, how shall he not with him freely give us all things ?" - lloMANS viii. '62 19;i xvm. . Kenewing Strength. *' Thoy that M-ait upon the JiOrd shall renew their strength ; they shall I'Kiunt 11 j) v.ilh wings as oa^^rles ; tliey shall ruti and not be weary, and they shall walk and not faint.'' - Isaiah xl. 31. . 205 Vlll ( ONTKNTS. XIX. HiNDRANCKS. I'AUE "So i)uilt we the wall I am doiu),' ji givftt W( rk, ho that I ( annot come down. Why should the work cease while I leav it, and come down to yon ?"— Nehemiah iv. 0, asu vi. 3 217 XX. Sudden Death. '* Truly :\^ the Lord liveth, and as thy bouI livcth, there h a etep betv/een me and death,"— Ist Samukl xx.'S , 229 XXI. The Power of True Love. *' And Jacob served »ieven yenrsfor Rachel : and they neemed unto him but a few days, for the love he had to her." — Genehis xxix. 20 241 XXII. . . A Good Name. ■'A ;;'immI n;ime is rather to bo chosen than great richea, antl loviii;^' favor rather than bilver and gold." ruoVEUBS xxii. 1 2r.rt XXIII. Sin Blotted Out. "I, oven I, am he that blotteth out thy transgressions for mine own sake, and will not remember thy sins." — laAiAH xiil. 25. *' I have blotted out, as a thick cloud, thy transgressions, and as a cloud thy sins ; return unto me ; fori have redeemed thee." — Isaiah xliv. 23 265 XXIV. Time No Longer. *• And the angel which I saw stand upon the sea and upon the eai'th lifted up his hand to heaven, and sware by hini that liveth for ever and ever, who created lieaven and tlie things that therein are, and the earth, and the thingi that therein are, and the bca and the things which are therein, that there should be time no longer."— Revelations x. 5 6 277 1 en 1 inl rei its th ws br foi 1 gi ■'i hi St ? i vi( * m CHEIST CRUCIFIED. '• I determined not to know anything araohg you, eftve .Testis Christ and Him crucified. — 1st Corinthians. 2ud and 2ad. " Christ in you the hope of glory; whom we preach, warning eyery man and teaching every man in all wisdom; that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus. — Collosians 1, y 27t 28." The saving truths of the gosxiel, and the methods to be employed in bringing them to bear upon the hearts of men, are the same m our day as in the Apostohc Age. What Paul preached and wrote to the early churches must con- stitute the great theme of the Christian ministry, to the end of time. Men may change, and empires may crumble into dust, but the word of the Hving God, like its Author, remains infalhble and unchangeable. Its pure precepts, its high toned morality, and its full and free salvation, through a crucified Kedeemer, are all adapted to meet the wants of men. Not less so are the means to be used in bringing the gospel into contact with human souls. The form, the style, the impassioned earnestness of the mo.st gifted sons of genius, are all to be held subordii^ate to a higher power. These are to be coveted, but simply as in- strumentahties, — in themselves worthless for the end in view. Not on the enticing words of man's wisdom are ministers to depend for success in their pulpit labours, but CHRIST CRUCIFIED. ■ on the power and demoiistration of the Spii'it, so that the faith of their hearers may stand, not in the wisdom of man, but in the power of God. These truths are clearly brought out in the passages read. The Apostle gives us in brief compass, the matter, the method, and the end of his preaching. Fully convinced that i)reaching in itself is foolishness, but that it has pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe, he made no attempt to substitute human learning for divine enlightenment. Writing to the Corin- thians, he snys : '* I came to you, not with excellency of speech or wisdom, declaring unto you the testimony of God. My speech and my i)reaching was not with enticing words of man's wisdom, hni in demonstration of the spirit and power." In other words, he did not mould his preaching according to the rules of polished rhetoric, or the philosophic schools of tlie age in which he lived. He came as the bearer of God's message to a sinful world, holdmg up high above every form of science or deduction of human reiison, the cross of calvary, as the hope of guilty man. He did so, moreover, in a spirit of sincere humility. Bearing in mind his own personal un worthiness as an ambassador of Christ, and trembling under the responsibilities of his po- sition, he avoided the mere elegancies and graces of com- position, lest possibly men might be hindered from recog- nizing the truth itself. He desired their faith to rest upon solid doctrines, not on mere forms of speech ; in the power of God, and not the mere persuasion of men. It is well for us occasionally to compare notes with suc- cessful preachers of other days. The enquiry is not alto- gether needless, whether in many cases we are not forsak- ing the goc d old paths, both in respect to the matter and the method of our preaching* and substituting theories and CHRIST CBUCIFIED. O devices other than those enjoined by the word of God. Never, in the history of the Church, has there been a period when the means of grace were more abundant, and when greater opportunities for the awakening of careless ones presented themselves, and yet our measure of success seems poor and insignificant. Let us not murmur at the withholding of God's spirit, or the deadness of our congre- gations, before we have examined the record of our public ministry, and acquitted ourselves of blame in the sight of God and man. All evangehcal ministers, it is taken for granted, preach Christ and him crucified. Whatever diJBferences there may be in matters of church government and discipline, and whatever variety in formulas and covenants, the great mass of christian churches recognize justification by faith as the foundation of the sinner's hope, and the only ground of his acceptance in the sight of God. Paul stands forth, in all his epistles, as the great advocate of this truth. At the very outset of his ministry in Corinth, he resolved that this should be the great burden of his discourses ; not Christ simply, but Christ crucified ; Christ as the God-man Re- deemer, a bruised and bleeding Saviour, suffering for the sins of guilty men, and dying as a ransom for the lost. It was not as a man — the most perfect man, that ever Uved — that he preached Christ. He did not simply enjoin his hearers to emulate the holy life and blameless conversation which he exemplified in the days of his humanity upon earth ; but back of all this, and before all this, he held up Christ's divinity, as inseparable from, and giving infinite value to the atoning sacrifice of Calvary. The same is true, still more emphatically, of his epistle to the Colossians. The gospel of which he was a minister, he characterises as *' the mystery which had been hidden from past ages, but now was made manifest to thQ 4 CHRIST CRUCIFIED. saints ; to whom God would make known, what is the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you the hope of glory." In other words, Christ is the theme of this gospel, and the riches of his glory, procured by his sufferings and death, the great mys- tery of redemption. It is this Christ, the Apostle Paul preaches, ''warning every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom, that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus." I! I Notice, then, first, the matter of PauVs preaching. The Christ that he preached was a divine person ; the same that appeared to him on the way to Damascus, and then and there set him apart to the work of the ministry. The divinity of the Saviour was plainly manifested in such an act, and what he had done for Paul he could do for others. In no portion of the Apostle's writings do we find anything that gives the least colour to the behef, that the founder of the Christian rehgion was inferior to God. On the con- trary, he speaks of him as "the imageof the invisible God," as "the first born of every creature," as by whom "all things were created," and "for whom all things were created ;" as "the head of the body, the Church;" as "the beginning, the first born from the dead," and as having in aU things the pre-eminence. Language is certainly with- out meaning, if such attributes belong to humanity. No man of candour or intelligence can for a moment beheve that these are the acts of one inferior to the Divine Being. On the contrary, the voice of our common humanity, un- trammelled by prejudice and unfettered by rationahstic theories, coincides with the oft-repeated declaration of scripture, that Christ was very God and very man, the fullness of the Godhead, the life and hght of men. Paul was by no means a despiser of human genius, of CHBIST CRUCIFIED. 5 mental gifts and moral endowments. Among the Greek and Koman statesmen and pbilosopliers of his day, there were some who, as noble specimens of mere human force of character, demanded his homage and admiration. Li his own person, there was perhaps the grandest combina- tion of intellectual and emotional power the world bas ever witnessed. But not for a moment did he put himself or his contemporaries on an equahty with the Son of God. He was wilhng to stand afar off — to follow at an infinite distance, and to strip himself of all glory, that his Saviour might be exalted. But still further. The Christ of Paul's preaching was Jesus, the crucified. The purity, meekness, gentleness, and long-suffering, which were so eminently conspicuous in Christ's character upon earth, were not forgotten. These he did not fail to contrast with the common-place virtues of his age, but they were not elaborated as the crowning ^ glory of Christ's person. They formed the back ground of > bis glowing pictures. It was the Cross, the shame and pain of Calvary, and the agony of crucifixion, that formed the great theme of the Apostle's preaching. "God forbid," he says, in writing to the Galatians, *'that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me and I unto the world." The elements in Christ's characlier that called forth the won- dering admiration of the Apostle, were just the ones which in ordinary circumstances would fail to attract the com- mendation of men. Christ in his death exemphfied nothing of what Greek and Roman poetry would style the Heroic : that indifference to pain and suffering that procured for their gods a name in the shrine of the immortals. The divine elements were not palpable to the common gaze — they were only recognized by his chosen and intimate dis- ciples. He was susceptible of mortal pain — of grief and 6 CHRIST CRUCIPIED. sorrow; terrible shadows of melancholy, almost approach- ing despair, seem at times to have swept across his soul, in the prospect of dissolution. The mode of his death, also,, was by far the most humiliating known to any civilized nation. A crucified malefactor was regarded as deserving of no pity. To sing the praises of such an one, was as strange an occurrence as for a poet of the present day to immortalize the memory of the criminal who dies upon the scaffold. And yet this was the very part in Christ's career that the Apostle eulogizes — the cross, and the pain, and shame of Calvary. iiii t ii!i Why, then, did the Apostle so often enlarge upon the termination of the Saviour's earthly existence, rather than the active graces of bis character ? Because that, without the crucifixion of Calvary, all that preceded was vain. The world needed an example of spotless purity and in- finite wisdom, but, more than this, it needed expiation for sin. It needed the shedding of blood. It noelod, as the context says, ** that we, who were sometimes alienated and enemies in our minds by wicked works, should be reconciled in the body of his flesh through death, and presented holy and unblameable and unreprovable in his sight." 'I! II II : . Once morr. it is to h? remarked, that the Christ of Paul's preaching vus a living^ enerqidua force amonff men. There are two ways of pi cm ?] j'lir Cliri'^t. One as a dogma or doctrine, the other as a present power ; one as a matter of liistory, the other as a constant omnipotent influence in society ; one as a dead Saviour lying swathed in the garments of the tomb, the other as the Hving Messiah, ey.nlted to the right hand of His Father, but still ruling in the hearts of men. Christianity as a system of doctrine demands frequent presentation in the pulpit, but the mere statement of doctrine is insufficient to rouse the human soul to a sense- ^ CHRIST CRUCIFIED. of its need and danger. A dead Cluiot, a great fact in the world's history, must ever form the central point ol oui* creed, but it is the living Clurist that is to conquer the world. Away from the shadows of Gethsemane and Golr gotha, we love to follow the risen Redeemer to yonder mountain in Galilee, where, surrounded by his disciples and just on the eve of ascension to his mediatorial throne, we hear him say : •* All power is given unto me in heaven and on earth. Go ye^ therefore, and teach all all nations, bap- tising them in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, and lo 1 I am witli you always, even unto the end of the world." Such preaching — Christ as a divine person, — as the crucified but living Messiah, the world still needs. The noblest type of morality is never found apart from a saving behef in the atonement of the Lord Jesus. Of whatever value mere morality may be as between man and man, it is of no avail to justify the sinner before a holy God. It is only when the heart has been humbled on account of sin and the conscience quickened to a perception of its guilt that Christ is accepted. Then purity of soul and rectitude of life begins. Gospel morality is the fruit of the Holy Spirit. It takes its rise at the cross, when the sinner freed from the burden of sin, and rejoicing in a full and free par- don, consecrates his life to the service of the Saviour. " Talk they of morals, Oh ! Thou bleeding lamb, — the best morality Ib love of Thee." The method of Paul's preaching is next stated in our text, ** Whom we preach, warning every man and teaching every man." The language ifidicates the earnest character of ministerial work. To preach means hterally to cry aloud — to hail inconsiderate passers by — to arrest the attention of the passing tlirong. The preaching of that age was more 8 CHBIST CRUCIFIED. exhortatory than argumentative. It had in it more of the fiery earnestness of the impassioned orator than the solemn judicial utterances of the trained advocate. But in all cii'cumstances, true i)reaching demands fervour and feeUng. When the preacher's voice trembles with electric fire, and he declares the truth as one who is conscious of its over- whelming importance and the danger of continued impeni- tence and unbelief, he cannot fail, under God's blessing, in producing conviction. But teaching, as well as preaching, entered largely into the Apostle's ministry. Tho funda- mental doctrines of our faith are presented on every occa- sion, in language adapted to his audience. He recognizes everywhere the importance of sound views of the nature of Christ's work, in order to consistent Christ like-lives. To enlarge the range of their spiritual vision, and give them a more decided faith, and a firmer grasp of unseen reaUties, was the great object of his ministry. To build them up in the truths of Christianity and render them skilled and able defenders o^the faith, was the end to which all his labors were dii'ected. Mere declamation cannot make thoughtful, devout students of Scripture. It may produce a spasmodic zeal and a fitful enthusiasm, but it cannot expand the mind or deepen conviction of the truth as it is in Christ. Finally, he warned as well as taught. He persuaded men in view of the terrors of the Lord. He did not teach uni- versal salvation, and represent the Almighty as so loving and compassionate that he would never punish the sinner for wilful impenitence and unbelief. So far from tliis, having made offer to his hearers of a full and free forgive- ness, he indicated in clear and unmistakable language the consequences of refusal. If, indeed, there are no penalties attached to unbeHef, the ordinance of preaching is a mere form and nothing more. But if the threatenings of Scrip- ture are true and as certain of fulfilment as are its promises, if the descriptions of everlasting torment are more than CHRIST CRUCIFIED. 9 / figures of speech, then no ordinary sermon is complete without more or less reference to the danger of unforgiven sin. The question is not whether such statements are palatable or pleasing to the mass of men, but are they true ? Does the word of God intimate the certainty of coming re- tribution ? If it does, faithfulness to the souls of men demands that nothing be withheld. In thus warning men to flee from the wrath to come, the Apostle Paul followed the example of Christ. In his public ministry he endeavored to enforce saving truth upon the conscience by pointed allusion to the danger of unbelief. No stronger language ever fell from the lips of men in de- picting the woes and miseries of lost souls, than his. If addressed to modern congregations it would be regarded by many as beyond the limits of propriety. But the solemnity and tenderness of the speaker proved the reality of his words. The task of setting forth in all its ghastUness the dreadful doom of the impenitent must to every preacher of the gospel be far from welcome, but personal feeUng must never interfere with the discharge of solemn obligations. '*I charge thee before God," says the same apostle, in writing to Timothy, " and the Lord Jesus Christ, who shall judge both the quick and the dead, at his appearing and his kingdom, Preach the Word : be instant in season and out of season ; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all long suffer- ing and doctrine." The end that the Apostle had in view, in thus preaching Christ and Him crucified, is stated in the closing words of the text. " That ue may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus." The perfection of the Saints is a subject often al- luded to in the ApostoUc writings. " This also we wish, t\Q}i your perfection.'' " TiU we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect maiiy unto the stature of the fulness of Christ." i 10 V CHRIST CRUCIFIED. l:Hi " Leaving the principles of the doctrines of Christ, let us go on unto perfection.'' The great end of preaching is thus the perfection of Christian character, and just in proportion as the preacher of the gospel keeps this fact prominently he- fore him, will he be successful in the ministry. There is nothing Hke a high aim, whether it be in secular or sacred callings. A good workman dishkes above all things to put out of his hands an unfinished piece of mechanism, or a rough, unfinished model. His own credit and reputation are at stake, apart altogether from the promised recompense, and though he may never reach absolute perfection, there is no reason why he should not aim at it. An exalted view of the gospel ministry is thus a stimulant to the noblest efforts of sanctified genius. If regarded as a mere secular calling, not radically distinct from the common em- ployments of life, what incentive is there to that high and holy aspiration, which the word of God requires in all that seek the office ? Or if it is regarded as demanding nothing more than the outward reformation of men — the main- tenance of morality and the conservation and recognition of civil law, why the mental anxiety and sore travail which have universally characterised the most eminent servants of God in ancient and modern times ? Such erroneous views of the ministry would fill the church with a race of hirelings and banish vital piety from the membership. But when a minister like Paul realizes that his work is grand and noble beyond conception ; that he is engaged under the spirit of God in polishing corner stones for the Uving temple ; in training minds for the highest exercises and employments of heaven ; and that in proportion as he is faithful and earnest in his calling will be the eternal happi- ness of countless souls tln-oughout eternity ; he can well afford to despise all other callings however, lucrative and honorable, and magnify his own as more excellent than aU. CHRIST CRUCIFIED. 11 This view of the Christian ministry, where honestly held, will have two effects. It will enhst the highest culture, the most extensive learning and the highest character and at- attainments in aspirants for the office. Be the numbers few or many, that the preacher addresses, he is engaged in a work whose importance cannot be over estimated. The crowning work of a past creation was man complete in God's image ; the crowning work of the new creation ig man restored and perfected in the likeness of God. It will also deepen the sense of personal responsibiUty in the hearers. That they may eventually be presented faultless, without wrinkle, spot or any blemish before the throne on high, is the grand aim of the ministry. " For what is our hope, our joy, or crown of rejoicing ? Are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming." ^' Perfect in Christ Jesus!'' It is hard to reaUze that creatures so vile and guilty can ever attain such a height of hoHness. Faultless, not simply in the judgment of men, but in the eyes of Him whose gaze no secret sin, however small, can evade. Try to realize the scene as painted by a master hand. '* See, the light is flashing — that strange and searching light — searcliing even in that land where there is no darkness at all — it is fla^-liiiig iu the court of heaven. It is the presence of God's glory. The Father io on his tin-one, and on his right li md is the triumphant Son ; and in the light's full glare a mortal stands whom the Son has been presenting to the Father — once darkened, once alienated, once sinful ; but i:ow washed, sanctified and justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the spirit of our God ; and the last test is come upon him, the hght is shining vertical, full, cloudless, upon his soul, and he blanches not. He is not servile, for the son has made him a king. Erect and unabashed, even under the pres- sure of the searching Hght he stands, and there shines out 12 CHRIST CRUCIFIED. from him the image of the heaveiily, and God the father looks upon him and sees the likenesd perfect and pronounces it very good, and the Son, smiUng upon the spurit he has redeemed, .says, "faultless in the presence of God's glory," and it is caught up by ten thousand voices, and it swells tlurough the azure field, until all Heaven shares the glad- ness and rejoices with exceeding jay. Presented jxfr/^c^ m Christ Jesus ! 0, then the Rlory and the blisa, When all that pained or seeraad amiss Shall melt with earth and sin away ! n , • When Saiats beneath their Saviour's eye, Filled with each other's company, Shall spend in love th' eternal day. < i\ 18 NO REST ON EARTH. AriBe ye and depart for this is not yonr rest. — Mich. 2nd, v. 10. There remaineth, therefore, a rest for the people of God.— Hebrews 4th, V. 9. The text read from the old Testament, refers to the im- pending judgments of God upon Judah and Samaria for their sins. The prophet Micah was a contemporary of Isaiah and Hosea, and testified against tlie grons wicked- ness that prevailed in both kingdoms, which led to the dispersion of the one and the captivity of the otlier. In his prophesy he foretells the doom of both, but intimates the ultimate restoration of the latter to their own land, and the subsequent advent and reign of Messiah. Canaan for many years was held up before the Israelites as their rest ; a place where undisturbed by invading enemies and secure against danger, they should peacefully enjoy the labor of their hands, and the rich products of the earth. But such, because of their sins, it failed to be. In just recompense for their evil doings, recorded in the previous chapter, God declares in the text that they should go forth from this pleasant land, which has become defiled and polluted by their presence. Canaan, which w^as designed to be a rest for them after their wanderings in the wilderness, should be so no longer. And therefore, says the prophet, *• prepare for a change of habitation, for trials more bitter and pro- longed than the desert, for exile in a foreign land and under 14 MO REST ON EARTH. ill heathen rulers, where you shall have leisure to reflect upou past mercies and undeserved goodness." " Arise ye and depart, for this is not your rest." The Jews, from the earliest periods of their history, whether we regard them as individuals or as a nation, have been constant wanderers. To Abram the Lord said : "Get thee out of thy country and from thy father's house, unto a land that I will show thee." A pilgrim and a stranger he continued to be, until after many changes of fortune, the good" old patriarch was gathered to his people, and laid side by side with his beloved Sarah in the cave of Macpelah. And what was true of Abram was more or less true of Isaac and Jacob and their immediate descendants. They sojourn- ed in the laud of promise as in a strange country, and at last died in. faith of securing a permanent dwelling far be- yond the changing scenes and sorrows of the present. ** They embraced the promises, they confessed that they were pilgrims and strangers on the earth, and looked for a city which hath foundations whose builder and maker is God." If we follow onwards the history of the nation the same thing is true. Settled comfortably in the land of Goshen, surrounded by numerous flocks and herds, no longer a few isolated and dependent famihes, but a strong and prosperous nation, the command again comes, *' Arise ye and depart for tliis is not your rest." Just as soon as they began to feel at home in Egypt and cling to its well watered pasture grounds as a statisfying portion, the severity of theii- task- masters was increased, until they gladly embraced the proffered march through the desert. As an eagle stirreth Tip her nest, flutter eth over her young, spreadeth abroad her wings, taketh them, beareth them on her wings," so the Lord stirred up his chosen people, in the midst of their ease and affluence, and led them forth to the land of tr: NO REST ON EAIlTn. 15 Canaan. For forty years tlioii' life wan a daily pilgrimage. If thoy halted for a season upon the march, it wjis only to gather strength and receive instructions as to future wan- derings. And although after their settlement in Canaan they enjoyed a permanency of abode unknown in tlie wil- derness, they were constantly reminded that not even Canaan was theii' home. It was but the type of that per- fect rest reserved in Heaven for all God's childi'en, whether Jew or Gentile ; ^vhether the natural or spiritual descend- ants of Abraham ; whether living under the old or new dispensation. That the earthly Canaan was understood to be nothing more than symbolical of the heavenly, is clearly proved by the language of the Psalmist. •' I am a stranger with thee and a sojourner, as all my fathers were. I am a stranger in the earth ; hide^not thy laws from me. Thy statutes have been my song in the house of my pilgrimage." So spake King David at the time of the nation's greatest prosperity and his own exaltation and honour. And when upon his death-bed he committed to his son Solomon the government of the kingdom and the building of the temple, he added with touching pathos: '-For we are strangers before thee and aojoiu:ners, as were all our fathers ; our days on the earth are as a shadow and there is none abiding." And so sings the Christian now : ^ •• I'm but a stranger here, " ' Heaven is my home, Earth is a desert drear, Heaven is my home ; Danger and sorrow stant^ Bound me on every hand ; Heaven is my fatherland, Heaven is my home." As the Jews needed to be reminded of their pilgrimage, so do we. The church of God and individual members of that church are now in the wilderness. It is a period of trial and probation, of activity and conquest. But sood 16 NO REST ON EARTH. the warfare shall be ended and the victory complete, whea the glorious company of the Redeemed shall enter upon the rest and rewards of the heavenly Canaan. " The ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads ; they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away." And yet how seldom do we realize that that we are pilgrims ? We can scarcely deny the ever-changing and uncertain tenure of our hfe, brought as we are from day to day, to look upon the dying and gaze upon the dead. But what impression after all is left upon our minds ? A few com. monplace utterances about the shortness of life ; the re- hearsal of well-known passages of Scripture, that speak of our days as few and fleeting ; and the exhibition of unusual solemnity at times when death is brought near to our doors or into our families ; does not this comprehend all that most men feel in regard to this grand fact ? Where are those yearnings after immortahty — those longings after Heaven — those ardent hopes and aspirations for eternal habitations, that should gladden the hearts and inspire the lives of those who are soon to enter upon an existence coeval with eternity ! . Now, what was taught the Jew by figure and symbol, has been plainly declared m the New Testament. " Pass the time of your sojourning here in fear. I beseech you as strangers and pilgrims abstain from worldly lusts ;" so writes the Apostle Peter. " Our conversation is in heaven, fi-om whence also we look for the Saviour," so writes the Apostle Paul. The greater portion of Christ's addi'esses to the disciples was to the same effect. They must leave all and follow hiin — they must forsake father and mother, sisters and brothers, houses and lands — they must be entii-ely un- fettered by secular cares and worldly estates. The meaning of such L nguage is plain. The Christian's life in the ] is NO REST ON EARTH. 17 present world is short, uncertain, unabiding. It is a trail' sition state as opposed to fixity or continuance of abode. It is a mere sojourn — a passing tiu-ougli — a lodging for a night, and tlien passing on. The transient visitor only waits long enough in the town or city, as may suffi^ie to transact his business. He has little time to spend in pleasure, in mere formaUty, in sight seeing or leisurely pur- suits. He has no special interest in the concerns of the place, and no desire to become acquainted with the inhabi- tants. If through force of circumstances his stay is lengthened to weeks or months, the longing after home becomes intense. It is also a state of active labor as opposed to rest. That labor is described under different names. It is a race — a warfare — a wrestling; the continued exercise of all the energies of body and mind — the manifestation of unflagging zeal and devotion in the cause of Clurist. The Christian is sent into the world for a definite purpose. He is to accompUsh a certain amount of work and render a ", specified service. Not until every obligation has boon ful - filled and every duty discharged can he retire from the field of action. Then death comes, changing the relations of the believer to the world and translating him to the un- wearying and invigorating activities of Heaven ; then comes the welcome summons, " Arise ye and depart for this is not your rest." Such I think is the proper view to take of life. We are neither unduly to magnify our present employments, nor unreasonably to despise them. A man may bo a pilgrim and yet accomplish a vast amount of practical j^jod for the world. The average limit of human existence is sliort, but if usefully spent may be prolific in noble needs. Any view of Hfe that has a tendency to cramp tlie onorgiori and sad- den the spirit is false and unscriptural. We must beware of Buch erroneous and gloomy conceptions of the present 18 V NO REST ON EARTH. world. It has many drawbacks — many trials and disap- pointments, but after all it is just what is needed for the trial of our faith and the perfection of our graces. We arc not unduly to love the world, nor be conformed to it, nor regard it as the great end of existence, but we are not on tlic other hand to go about complaining of its providential appointments, as if in its social arrangements, it failed to come ux) to the design of its maker. Nor are we to regard the employments of the present as despicable. They are part of God's grand purpose for elevating our race to a higher state of purity than it has yet attained. The hard and continuous toil of the Israelites in the desert, prepared them for the occupation of Canaan and the building of the temple, and evey duty honestly discharged prepares us for the nobler pursuits of heaven. I think that just in propor- tion as a man rationally enjoys the present state of existence, will he be the more resigned to leave it ; not because he has a low estimate of its capabilities, but be- cause in diligently occupying the present he has attained to a nobler conception of the future. He is not wearied of life's work, but he looks forward to labor of another kind, that shall tax his spiritual energies to their utmost limit. There are many people who go about their daily employ- ments as if they were committing sin. Their entire con- versation is about this " miserable world," its unsatifying character, its hardsliips and its driulgery. They speak in a whisper, they never smile — tliey go about witli hanging heads and rueful countenances — they avoid the society of their fellow men and take no interest wliatever in the affau's of state and those great movements in behalf of humanity, that command the thoughtful intelligence of tlie world. They have not a single word of hope or cheer for the toiling masses ; not a single ray of sunshine is seen either in their NO REST ON EARTH. 19 disap- :or the We arc it, nor not on dential failed we to They ce to a e hard repared of the I us for propor- tate of it ; not but be- lined to iried of T kind, hmit. countenances or their dsvelhngs. Their idea of pilgrimage is complete seclusion from everything that is secular ; theii* endeavor is to glide through life without exposure to the shocks and agitations which unsettle other men, and thus attain a measure of angelic sweetness, unknown and impos- sible to imj)erfect beings. All this is fooUsh and unscriptural. Saints are not made after such a fashion. It is by the steady development of all our powers ; by contact with what is often repulsive and distasteful; by enthusiastic perseverance in well doing ; by tlie expansion of our know- ledge in every direction — in material, in social, in moral ;iiid religious departments, that we are to honour the Al- mighty and benefit our own souls. A man is just as much a pilgrim who is earnest in his business and gathers wealth, and enjoys lawful pleasures, as were the bareheaded, un- shaved and unshod Monks of old, who walked abroad clad in haircloth, with stall' in hand and the mark of the cross upon their forehead. If men are not prepared to leave this world, from the store and counting house, they cannot be fitted for the great change by the austerities of monastic Ufe. The road to heaven is just as short from the market place as from tiio church ! employ - ire con- atifying peak in hanging (ciety of e affahs imanity, world, e toiling in their The spirit of the text istlicvtlore neither understood nOr obeyed by assuming an isolated position in society, and despis- ing the many blessings that heaven confers upon us in our present state of pilgi-image. What it does teach, is, that this life is not the whole of existence — nay, that it is but the smallest part ; and that all our engagements are to be enter- ed upon and carried on with a view to another and a higher state of being, where we shall find employments adapted to our fullydeveloped powers. This world is a sphere of prepar- ation and soul culture, more than perfect enjoyment. It is re- lated to the future as the seed is to the flower — as the acorn 20 NO REST ON EARTH. is to the oak — as the babe is to the full grown man. Up to a certain measure, we are to be contented with our present surroundings, but never to lose sight of the glorious inheritance that is in reserve. Christianity en- joins contentment, but it also requires an active faith in the future. Destitute of all aspirations after immortality and with no desires after something grander and better than our present heritage, we cannot experience that state of mind, which makes a man gladly welcome death as the consummation of his dearest hopes. If the present satis- fies our wants ; if we have no throbbings and pulsations after more imperishable riches than earth affords ; if we look upon existence in this world as a completed thing ; if friends and business and tangible reahties have such a fas- cination, as to make us wholly indifferent in regard to better things, then we are not pilgrims, — we are unfitted for that change of occupation, companship and citizen- ship which awaits the child of God. It is not good for a man too frequently to anticipate death, if it unfits him for the active duties of life. But to ignore all thought of death from day to day and strive to banish the very idea of eternity from the mind is the ex- treme of madness. To follow the remains of companions and friends day after day to the grave and yet never put the question "am I ready for the change?" is surely in- conceivable folly. And yet my hearers, how many of you seriously and habitually anticipate the hour of your depart- ure ? When you closed your stores last evening and bal- anced up the business transactions of the week, did it strike you, that possibly you would never again enter them; never again stand at your desk, or behind your counter, and that ere the beginning of another week, you might be called to render the account of Ufe and balance NO REST ON EARTH. 81 affairs with your maker ? That time will come. To you it will be the la?t message from heaven and to me the last sermon. Supposing then, that the marching orders came thus suddenly and unexpectedly, what are yoiu* feehngs in prospect of death and judgment ? Are you willing to de- pai't ? Are you waiting for the call ? Have you a well grounded assurance, that whatever be the character of your closing moments, all shall be well with you in the eternal state ? Can you joyfully say : " This is not my place of restiug, Mine's a city yet to come, Onwards to it I am hasting On to my eternal home. Soon we pass the desert dreary, Soon we bid farewell to pain, Never more be sad or weary, Never, never, sin again. ** There remaineth therefore a rest for the people of God." Not indolent repose or selfish induhjence. We must not think of heaven as akin to the paradise of Mahomet, where the faithful enjoy every pleasure that can gratify the senses, and where reclining upon silken couches, in bowers of resplendent beauty, and surrounded by costhest luxuries* eternity is dreamed away in unprofitable reverie. Heaven is a place of unceasing activity, where God's servants serve him dayand night ; where all the powers of the glorified are engaged in themes adapted to their enlarged capaoities, without weariness or exhaustion. The most studious and gifted intellects, soon tire of prolonged application. The eye becomes dim, the cheek becomes pale, the hair pre- maturely grey, and the brow deeply furrowed, in propor- tion as the mind is enriched and the sphere of human thought extended. But not so in the future state. Mind will not only be purified, but intensified. Age after age will but add new strength to the redeemed intellect and 22 NO BE^T ON EARTH. disclose new wonders to the eye. The rest of heaven is action, but destitute of the langour that is associated with present toil. What then is this rest ? It is rest from sin. Not only before, but after conversion, sin retains a wonderful mast, ery over us. It opposes every holy resolution and vitiates every pure desire. Soul sick, because sin sick, the despair- ing believer cries out "who shall deliver me from the body of this death?" Sin has changed the world into a very battle ground, and man's soul into a broken, tuneless and discordant harp. But in heaven it has no place. There all is perfect purity and harmony. "As the needle in the compass, after many tremulous vibrations, at last settles in steady repose in the direction of its pole, so the redeemed spirit — aU its tremblings and faintingsand fitful aberrations at an end, shall remain with its refined energies, its ennobled powers and purified aspiiutions, undeviatingly fixed and centered on Jehovah himself." It is rest from suffering and sorrow, "God shall wipe all tears from their eyes ; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain." Life to many is a scroll of lamentation, written within and without. The gleams of sunshine that light up the dark chambers of the soul are few and fleeting. Under the chastising rod ' * we go on repeating our cries, telling and retelling our afflic- tions, and wearying with these the kindest ears. Friend- ship gets worn out by our lamentations — love feels itself giving way, sympathy becomes useless and the springs of the human heart dry up." But all this changes when the eye closes upon the world. We leave all that is mortal and painful with the mouldering tabernacle in the grave. The night of weeping becomes the morning of joy, and the dis- embodied spirit enters upon an existence, untroubled as it NO REST ON EABTH. 23 is sinless. The very remembrance of earthly tribulation shall fade from the memory, like the confused impressions of dream land, tliat arc forgotten amid the activities of the returning day. No cry of sorrow, no sense of pain, no out- bursts of anguish, disturb the lasting peace and calm of heaven. Finally, it is rest from all worldly anxiety and care. Physical toil is no longer demanded, nor the mind tortured by dark forebodings of poverty and want. The christian's home in glory, is not only his father's purchased possession, I'lit itis furnished with everything necessary for the highest w tlfare. In the heart filled with God's presence, there is no room for anxious thoughts. If such is the rest prepared for Gods spiritual IsraeUtes, surely in the Apostles words, ** to depart and be with Christ is far better." Christian fellowship on earth is sweet, but it is neither pure nor permanent. We miss many faces that once gi*eeted us in the sanctuary. We long to meet them and to share their blessedness. To the sincere christian the thought of such reunion should be a joyful anticipation. Were our hearts turned and tuned as they should be to the harmony of heaven ; if we could but reach that state of perfection in this present hfe, when the wings of faith and love expanded, makes the soul feel rest- less in its prison house of clay, we would rejoice in the thought of freedom, and count the remaining days of our earthly pilgrimage long and toilsome. There have been such saints. To them dying was but going home — the grave the pathway to glory — the cold sweat of expiring nature but the dew drops of paradise, — the closii^ of tlic natural eye, but the opening of celestial vision I What christian indeed, but feels that at best, this world is but the crucible to refine and purify his nature, and restore him to the image of his maker. This is but the workshop of his 24 NO BEST ON EARTH. mental powers — a school of preparation for something better — all that he can attain on earth is but the rudi- ments of heavenly knowledge. The fuller development of the mysteries of grace, is reservcvl for tlie eternal world. Thus assured that there remains such a rest for the people of God, and that the rest will be all the sweeter in proportion to the loving service rendered here, let us not spend our few remaining years, in vain regrets and melan- choly musings over opportunities of usefulness and seasons of privilege neglected. ** The night is far spent-^the day is at hand ; let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light." Let us *• walk cir- cumspectly, not as fools, but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil." " " Brethren, arise, Let US go b'BDce ! Death aud the grave are here, The sick-bed and the bier. The children of the tomb Jilay love this kindred gloom ; - , Bat we, the deathless band, "^ Must seek the deathless laud. " .Brethren arise," Let US go hence ! This is not our abode Too far, too far from God. What are earth's joys and gems What are its diidems? Our crowns are waiting us Within our father's home. Our friends above the skies \io bidding us arise ; Our Lord, be calls away To scenes of sweeter daj' riian ttiis sad earth can kuow. Let us arise and go !'* "4< WALKING IN THE LIGHT. " hoase of Jacob, come ye, and let us walk in the light of the Lord." — Isaiah 2nd and 5th. These words are a call to repentance and change of con- duct addressed to the Jewish nation. In the opening verses of the chapter there is presented a cheering picture of Messianic times, when the church of the living God, shall attain her long predicted glory and eminence among the nations of the earth, and when the sceptre of Imman- uel shall rule the world. *' It shall come to pass in the last days that the mountain of the Lord's house shall be estabUshed in the top of the mountains, and shall be exalted above the hills ; and aU nations shall flow unto it." By the expression " mountain of the Lord's house," we have first, a reference to the temple built upon Mount Moriah, which symbolised to the inhabitants the worship of the true God, and secondly, an indication of the time yet future, when the spiritual temple or house of God shall become so conspicuous, as not only to be seen by all nations, but to attract all nations to the worship of the true Jehovah. It shall then be established or fixed, beyond the reach of all possible attack from external foes, for Christianity being everywhere diffused and everywhere accepted, shall rule men's hearts and conform their Hves to its holy require- ments. And therefore adds the Prophet, *< many people shall 26 WALKING IN THE LIGHT. go and say, ' come ye and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to tlie liousc of the God of Jacob ; and he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths ; for out of Zion shall go forth the Law and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.' " The " many people " include Jew and Gentile. The Heathen shall abandon their idols and shatter then* altars, and embrace the gospel. The Jew having the veil of unbelief removed from his eyes, shall submit to the authority of Messiah and gladly recognise him as the promised hope of Israel and the world. From Zion the church of the living God, righteous laws shall emanate for the guidance of the nations ; and finally, under the mild, but supreme government of the Prince of peace, war and bloodshed shall come to an end. " He shall judge among the nations and rebuke many people ; and they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks : nation shall not hft up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more." Now, in view of this happy issue, the Prophet calls upon the Jews to begin even now the work of reformation. As they had been highly favoured beyond all other people, he would have them at once, and in advance of heathen king- doms, exhibit that purity of conversation and holiness of life, befitting their distinguished blessings. " 0, house of Jacob, come ye, and let us walk in the light of the Lord." Let us henceforth abandon false Gods — the worship of idols — the human standards and human opinions of the world — the gross sins and guilty rebellion of the past, and in simple, childlike obedience, accept the teachings of heaven. Begin a new page in your history — seek after a higher and nobler national existence — be honest in the practice ot that religion and the love of that Jehovah, WALKING IN THE LIGHT. net bain of le will IS ; for le Lord ew and )ls and le Jew I, shall cognise From 78 shall finally, ince of ''He people ; id their I sword re." Us npon Lon. As )ple, he m king- iness of louse of Lord." I'ship of J of the ist, and bings of after a in the ehovah, whom you liave so freqii'?ntly avowed as your hiwgivcr and king. II such be the moaning of the passage, it Iiuh a wider application than to tlie Jews of old Testament times. It is addressed to all who have made profession of the christian faith. Forget the past — begin a new spiritual existence — seek to exhibit those virtues and graces that are incumbent upon the children of God, and mark the followor.s of the lamb. Notice first, the reason why the church of Christ should aim at the injunction of the text. It is the coming of Christ — the realization of all those precious hopes and promises, that for ages have kept ahve the faith of God's saints and stimulated them to united effort fr; :l.o regor or- ation of the world. Whatever views are hit ^,> christians regarding the millenium and j^ersonal reii^ii c/\ (;hrist, all are agreed, hi expecting that happy time, v.] ' i the gosj^el shall rule supreme in the hearts of men and mould the laws of nations ; when the hoary sj'stems of superstition which have so long hindered the advancement of the truth shall be banished from our world ; when heathen altars and statues erected to unknown and unreal Gods, shall crumble into dust and the son of righteousness arise with healing for the suffering myriads of our race. * That the arrival of such a long expected da>, should be to the church of God, the perfection of joy, cinuiot for a moment be doubted, in view of the pv.ivcrs and ftorts she has put forth, for the coming of lliir. goUUii age. It is true, that her prayers have neither ]n-^on so fevvont nor so frequent as they should have been, n'!** lic-v i;f ikvous bene- factions equal to her resources and oppoitniiitit s ; never- theless we must regard them as evidence of Ik r earnest 28 V WALKING I.\ THE LIGHT. \ longings for tliat time, wlien holiness shall be written upon the bells of the horses, and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose. The faith of the church has in some respects been severely tested. She has waited long for indications of the dawn of morning ; she has listened eagerly for the sound of the chariot wheels ; she has called once and again "watchman, what of the night ?" and to her cry received the answer, " The morning cometh and also the night." At times, bitter persecution and bloodshed, or si)iritual dcadness among professing christians, or the prevalence of unblushing vice and infidelity, have made her almost de- spair of the set time to favour Zion. But still she main- tains her confidence in the declarations of the Scripture, tliat he that comes shall come and not tarry. The night of weeping miiy be long, but joy cometh in the morning. Now if such be the assurance of the church, what is de- manded of her ? If the day of victory is drawing near, how should she prepare for it ? If the bridegroom is soon to appear, how shall she stand in his presence ? By aiming at the character in'esented in tl.e text — " 0, house of Jacob, come ye, and let us walk in the light of the Lord." Two things, I take it, are specially intended in the exhort- ation. Greater holiuefss and greater aetivity. Has the ' church of the present day these ch«racteristics ? There never was a period, when the machinery of the visible church was more complete, or when greater efforts were put forth, for the extension of the Bedeemer's king- dom. In all the clmrches, there is evident progress. But do such manifestations of spiritual life, however much in advance of the past, come up to the demands of the case, and are they proportionate to the vast increase of error i selves in the of all burdei churcl. all dev case a; it is st which land ! the vai mands in behi Now strikiuf need o It is w( uncerti ritualif and to speed! tractin to the of the bers wi with so acteris( accomj graces soiled ? The WALKING IN THL LIGHT. liO m upon >icG and ,s been s of the 50und of L again received night." spiritual ilence of lost de- e maiii- n'ipturc, night of ing. at is de- car, how soon to T aiming louse of i Lord." 3 cxhort- Has the > There lo visible irts were •'s king- progress. however tnands of crease of error and wickedness tliat exists ? Arc we cojnliu*tiiig our- selves as on the eve of a mi^'lity struufi^^lo, thai sliiill usher in the reign of righteousness am] justice ft)r the oppressed of all nations, and emancipato liunianity from its long burden of shi and sorrow ? I hardly tliink there is any church of Christ that will maintain that its energies are at all developed to the extent demanded. And if this is the case as regards active endeavours for tlio salvation of souls, it is still more apparent, as regards that holiness of life, which should cliaractorise the evangelical churches of our land ! Where is there that separation from the v/orld and the vain amusements of the world, whicli the master de- mands in his followers — the most powerful of all urgunients in behalf of our holy religion ? Now in view of the consummation of all tlungs, so strikingly predicted in the context, surely the church has need of exemplifying a greater resemblance to her head. It is well to protest against error and heresy ; to utter no uncertain sound regarding the innovations of rationaUsm, ritualism and romanism, that are coming in like a flood, and to pray with all fervency that the man of sin may be speedily overthrown ; — but is there not a better way of at- tracting the world to a love of Christianity, and submission to the authority of Christ ? If we could but raise the tone of the church at large, and leaven her ministers and mem- bers with greater faith and holier daring, and inspire them with something of the meekness and gentleness which char- acterised the son of God when in the world, would she not accomplish more than in the arena of warfare, where her graces are so apt to become polluted and her garments to be soiled ? • i - The question then is pertinent, what are we doing as 80 WALKING IN THE LIGHT. cliuj'clies, to bring about the luippv time spoken of by the Prophet ? We bcheve that it is to be Imstened by human agency. How then would we wish ourselves employed when the miister calls and our conduct comos under the re- view of the omniscient Jehovah ? Sure Iv not as idle, indiiit'er- ent, and listless spectators of events, orasservants whohave hid tbeir Lord's talents in the earth, but rather as good stewards of the mysteries of the kingdom; — ''blameless and harmless, the sons of God without rebuke in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, holding forth tho word of life." But the text is equally applicable to individual members of the church. ** Come ye, and let us walk in the light of the Lord." To walk is to live, to act, to conduct ourselves according to the purity and simplicity which the Bible in- culcates. The light of the Lord, is the revelation of his will. The Apostle Paul uses such language, when he en- joins the members of the early churches " to walk in new- ness of life — not after the flesh, but after the sjurit." *' Ye were sometimes darkness," he says, "but now are yo light in the Lord — walk as children of light and have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness." There can be no mistaking the meaning of such words. It implies a change of hfe — a revolution of feeling — the deliberate choice of another and higher standard of conduct than is common to the world. TJie world is still in darkness, but Christ, as the light of the world, has come to banish the darkness. Our actions are therefore to be in keeping with the char- acter of his missio]i. Now v.cre I to x)nt llie question to every individual hearer of the gospel — what \s tlie standard of your conduct — how are you eudca, ouring to live — what are your aims ? W'Ould WALXIN'O IN THE LIGHT. 31 by tlic human iployetl the re- iidiffer- hohavo IS gooil imeless le midst word Qembers light of nirselvcs Bible lu- ll of his I he eii- in iiew- ." "Yc r^ light in llowship [in be no I change hoice of iimon to irist, as arkness. ie char- il hearer ct — how ? would the unanimoiL-; response be, We are walking in the light of the Lord ? I fear it much. Some walk as they tell us, by the light of nature. They seek no higher monitor, and need no more infallible guide. The material universe, with its silent voice proclaims to tliem v/ith unmistakeable clearness their duty and their destiny. In the stars above them, in the landscape at their feet and in the roar of the tempest, they recognise a presiding Deity, and have all they need for the guidance of their life ! We do not despise the teachings of nature. To the trained eye of the child of God, she reveals the beauty and goodness of the great Creator. The wisdom and unchang- ing faithfulness of the Almighty maker of the universe, shine forth in all his works. But apart from the page of inspiration, nature is at best, a blind and uncertain guide. It is only as interpreted by the spirit of God that her teach- ings profit. It is only in so far as her revelations coincide with the higher revelation of heaven, that she is of any value to men in tlie practical affairs of life. The man who attempts to live by the hght of nature, is a greater fool, than he who attempts to navigate the ocean without chart or compass, or the man who dives into subterranean cav- erns without safety lamp to direct his steps and protect him from the dangers and poisonous vapors that infest the darkness ! Nature has done much for man, but not in the sphere of civilization or morals. The arabs of the desert, destitute of christian culture, are wild, uncivilized, and savage, living by plunder and cherishing revenge. And although we do not charge such crimes against men in christian lands, who i)rofess to have no higher guide than the hght of nature, we fearlessly assert, that their vh'tues cannot compare with those of their fellowmen who follow the unerring dictates of heaven. Nature without a God, 82 WALKING IN THE LIGHT. offers no restraint whatever to the passions — the cupidity, the avarice ana cormption of the unregenerate heart. There are others, who walk by the light of reason and boast of their intellectual superiority to their fellowmen. The grace of faith has no place in their creed. Human testimony they can credit, but the divine word they ignore. They beheve that right and wrong are so manifest, that there is no need for supernatural guidance. With proud contempt they look down upon simple minded christians, who seek something better than human counsel. They feel quite secure in following the promptings of their own judgment, which in no case has as yet deceived them. In a word, they deny the existence of a divine revelation, and regard the old and new Testament scriptures as unworthy of acceptance by inteUigent men ! Now what we have said regarding those who walk by the light of nature, is equally applicable to modern rationahsts who have no higher guide than the inner sense. Reason within certain Hmitations is a noble mental endowment. Its powers are varied and far-reaching. But reason is absolutely helpless regarding the more important questions that perplex the mind and cannot satisfy the deep yearn- ings of humanity. It sheds but a feeble light upon the dark inscrutable ppvidences of the present life, or those awfully mysterious problems that succeed the gloom and darkness of the grave. But there are many good men, who govern their conduct by the hght of conscience and think they cannot err, so long as they follow such a faithful monitor. There never was a greater mistake. Conscience in some men is the very embodiment of oppression and injustice. When un- WALKING IN THE LIGHT. 33 enlightened by the spirit of God, it drives men to the com- mission of the most flagrant crimes. All men have con- science, and yet do men always act as if directed by an infallible guide ? You tell me that men reject the warn- ings of conscience and hence their remorse for unlawful and unrighteous deeds ; — but what shall we say of the thous- ands who act in accordance with the dictates of conscience, and never experience any sense of wrong-doing, though daily violating the law of God ? Conscience when enhghtened by the spirit is an emi- nently safe guide, for then it is but the reflex of heavens mandates. But for every such conscience in the world, there are himdreds unimpressible and indifferent to the sanctions of morality. And therefore, when men speak of walking by the hght of conscience, everything depends upon the kind of conscience. Is it a good conscience sucli as Paul speaks of, or a conscience searecl as with a hot iron? It is no index to a man's character that he walks by the light of conscience, unless it is instructed by the teachings of scripture. Now it is one thing to admit the folly of walking by the light of nature, or reason, or conscience, but another thing to obey the exhortation of the text. It was not for want of knowledge of the true God, that the Jews so frequently lapsed into idolatry and preferred darkness to light, and so at the present day, many professing cluristians, taught by sad experience their own helplessness and ignorance, refuse the "hght of the world," whose beams are for the healing of the nations. To walk in the hght of the Lord, is a precept of universal appHcation in all the details of life. It does not mean .: i u WALKING IX THK LIOHT. simply ail acknowledgement of God in the ordinances of religion, but the giving up of our entire life to the control of heaven. It implies a daily recognition of his presence — a consciousness that his eye is ever upon us in the discharge of our varied duties. It presumes that we can ask the Almighty to investigate our motives, and that we are not afraid to bring them to the test of Gods word. Walking in the light of the Lord, implies, habitual dependence upon Gods goodness — a looking to him at all times for direction, and a fear of offending him, whose favour is more than life and whose loving kindness is better than silver and gold. Only so far as wo thus walk in the light of the Lord can we expect success, whether in temporal or spiritual matters. The many mishnps and unexpected reverses we encounter, are due to the fact that we trust to our own wisdom which is foolishness and are guided by the feeble flickering light of our reason, rather than the steady light of Gods law and testimonv. If then we would as christians enjoy greater peace and inward joy, let us quit dependence upon human counsel, and betake us to that fountain of light, in which alone we can see clearly. Says the Psalmist, " With thee is the fountain of light, and in thy Ught we shall see light," ** Thy word is a light unto my path and lamp unto my feet." Any other conduct in Gods children is unbecoming. What communion hath light -vsdth darkness ? house of Jacob, come ye, and let us walk in the light of the Lord." There is affectionate entreaty in the language of my text. It is the kind parent, mourning over an ignorant and erring child, and yearning after his restoration. " Come — return ; — give up your fooUsh and unprofitable wanderings in forbidden paths ; cease trusting to your own weak and WALKINVt TX the LIiiHT. imi)i3i'rcct endeavours ; rest in the arras of my love and trust in the sincerit}' of mj' promises." There is no word of rebuke — no mention of past misdeeds — no threats of coming rotribution. Only come and all will be forgiven and forgotten. It is thus that the AlmigLty recalls hist backsliding children, who have slighted his love and are living indifferent to his claims. Conscious of many short comings in the past, we call on you to-day, to seek after a nearer and closer walk with God. How can we better begin a new period of existence, than by resolving hence forward to walk in the light of the Lord. We cr.nnot err if we thus live. We may have our full share of trials, but they shall minister to our good. We may meet with many disappointments, but they cannot endanger our heavenly possessions. We may be called as the year advances to look into the grave, as we commit to its cold embrace the dear ones of our homes, but the light of heaven shall give to it supernatural radiance and angeUc forms in shining raiments shall rebuke our fears. We may ourselves pass away to that land of eternal day, where shadows never flit across the vision, and where the bright- ness of the lamb dispels- all gloom and darkness. How can we better prepare for such a wondrous change, than by adopting as our daily motto the words of the text, " walk in the light of the Lord." At this season of the year we are called to friendly greet- ings for each others welfare. It is a time of joy in many homes — in some mingled with tears and sorrow. Ah ! the brightest thought connected with new year seasons, lies in the knowledge, that we are drawing near that land of un- sullied purity and perfect happiness, where we shall see face to fuce and know as we are known. Our path on 86 WALKING IN THE LIGHT. earth is often dreary. Even with the hght of Gods favour streaming full npon us, we feel lonely and far from home. But the journey shall soon end, and the dangers of the darkness be over. " A child of light am I ; My way I cannot, cannot miss ; And yet the goul I scarce descry In blinding darkness such as this. Oh, Lord, the world is dark ! Bnt thou art only, only light, Its snn is but a dying spark But thou art ever, ever bright." How good to know that the Ught of the world can never be extinguished ! It shall continue to shine on, until every land is wrapt in its effulgence. And so in a less degree should be the life of every christian. You cannot shine so brightly, but you can reflect the glory of the sun of right- eousness. " Among whom ye shine as lights in the world " says the apostle. As hghthouses are placed on rock bound coasts to warn seamen of the dangers of shipwreck, so are christians in a dark and dreary world. Said a traveller to the keeper of the Calais lighthouse, *' But what if one of your lights should go out at night ?" " Never — impos- sible, he replied. Sir yonder are ships saihng to all parts of the world. If to-night one of my burners were out, I should hear from America or India, saying that on such a night, the lights at Calais lighthouse gave no warning, and some vessel had been wrecked. Ah, Sir, sometimes I feel, when I look upon my lights, as if the eyes of the whole world were fixed upon me. Go out ! Burn dim ! Never ! impossible !" What a lesson in these words for every child of God. According as his character is luminous — clear — truth reveaHng, or dark, suspicious, and contradic- tory, may he be the means of saving or damning some WALKING IN THE LIOHT. 87 l^oor soul that is struggling against temptation and ready to be dashed upon the rocks of perdition. Those to whom these words were first addi-essed did not value the light, and now the scattered members of the Jew- ish nation, wander here and there, aliens from the common- wealth — without the knowledge of a Saviour and the hope of pardon through his merits. Their light has been changed into darkness and how great is the darkness I Are wo like them indifferent to our privileges ? do we neg- lect the house of prayer ? do we despise the ministrations of the sanctuary ? If so, their terrible fate, may soon be ours. Where to-day the once highly favoured churches of Asia ? Where the cities where Christ wrought his mighty works and spake such wonderful words ? They are blotted out of existence, with scarcely a memento left behind to tell of their former greatness. The light of the sun performs its mission in the world of nature and so must the gospel. If not here, its cheering life giving beams shall enUghten other lands, and lead the heathen to the cross ! ^1 N A LAMB FOE A BUENT OFFEETNG. " Behold tbe fire and the wood; bnt where is the larab for the burnt cfferiDg? M.y pon, God will provide himself a lumb for a burnt offering." — Gecesie, 22nd, v. 7-8. Isaac could have asked no question more natural or appropriate. He had long been tau.eht that without a victim there could bo no sacrifice, and v»ithout the shed- ding of blood there could be no remission of sin. It seem- ed strange that his father should make every other i^re- paration needful in the circumstances, but that the most important element of all should be forgotten. The altar, the wood, the fire and the knife were but of secondary im- portance. Unless there vras a lamb for a burnt oftering, the journey to Mount Moriah was in vain. That Isaac knew nothing from his father's conversation of the burnt offering designed by command of God, is evident. Perhaps the answer to the question may have suggested the mysterious nature of the sacrifice. But the patriarch's heart was too full, and his feelings too solemn to enter into any minute details at this trying moment, or tell his eon of the terrible fate that soon awaited him. Nothing, indeed, but the strongest faith could have sus- tained him in this act of obedience to the decree of heaven. There were many cogent reasons that Abraham might have pled for refusing to slay his son. Had not the A LAMB FOR A BURNT OFFERING. Almiglity declared, witli all the Bolenmity of an oatli, that miirdor was the most attroeioiis of crimes, and that " whoso slieddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be Khed."? Inthis case how much more aggravated the crime, seeing that the victim was his only beloved sou, one whose conduct and filial affection had endeared him to liis parents, and gained for him a place in their hearts, only second to the love they bore to God himself. Moreover, the deed of blood was to be consummated without the knowledge of his wife. Not until the body of her son was burned to ashes would she be made acquainted with her sad bereavement, and realize that the murderer was the companion of her hfe and the father of her child. From a human point of view, everything was against the commis- sion of such a crime, and seemed to justify tlisobedience to the command of God. But, added to these considerations of mere liesh and blood, if Isaac is to die what of the promises made to Abraham, that in his seed all nations of the earth should be blessed — that kings should come out of his loins, and that in Isaac, and not Ishmael, God's covenant should be established throughout all generations '? Long before his birth he was declared the heir of promise. Abraham and Sarah had comforted themselves with tbe thought that this son of their old age should not only be the stay and conso- lation of their dechning years, but would perpetuate their name and memory through a long hue of princes, and, finally, that the Messiah himself should descend from the father of the faithful. Were all these visions of grace and glory now to vanish ? Was the Almighty only mocking and deceiving them with hopes and expectations, that were never intended to be realised ? Better far, in such a case, never to have had a son to comfort them, or promises of a 40 A LAMB VOR A BURNT OFFERING. long line of descendants, more numerous than the stars of heaven, if, at the moment when their fulfilment seemed most certain, they should be hopelessly destroyed ! But such objections had no weight with Abraham. He never hesitated for a moment. He expressed no reluct- ance. He did not even ask the Almighty for an explana- nation of this strange procedure. We cannot doubt that serious thoughts filled his mind all through this crisis ; but never for a moment did they interfere with his cheerful obedience to the will of heaven. There is no delay what- ever in carrying out to the very letter the orders given. Mount Moriah is far distant, and the journey is tedious. The secret grief that for three days must fill his heart un- known to any other human being, and the thought of walking side by side with his son who is all unconsciously the prepared victim for the altar, are so many additional ingredients in his cup of woe. " If I must make the sacrifice, why not now — why not here? Why not. make known to Isaac by divine revelation the wiU of heaven that he must die, and thus prepare him for the ordeal ?" No such feelings find expression upon the lips of Abraham. His faith must be tested, not merely by sacrificing Isaac, but by the mode of sacrifice indicated by God. For when men are called to surrender the nearest and the dearest, it must be in his appointed way, and not according to their own preferences. And right nobly did the patriarch's faith rise to the height of the emergency. Early in the morn- ing he arose and saddled his ass, clave the wood, and with the intended victim for the burnt offering, hastened to the appointed place. That there may be no possible interfer- ence with his purpose, when Mount Moriah looms up in the distance, lie leaves beliind the two young men, and |;ars of jeemed He reluct- plana- t that s ; but eerful what- given. dious. irt un- ght of siously itional ke the ^ make lieaven i3eal?" aham. Isaac, ' when est, it 3 their s faith morn- iwith to the kerfer- up in I, and A LAMB FOK A BURNT OIFERING. 41 with Isaac chmbs the mountain side. The artless, touch- ing enquiry of his son, '* Behold the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering ?" does not in the least make him falter. Leaving it with God to provide a substitute for his son, or equally willing that in the person of his son the lamb for the burnt offering may be found, he answers, " My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering." Nay, not until the recaUing voice of the Almighty is heard does he desist from the bloody deed. The altar is made, the wood laid thereon, his son bound and placed upon the altar and the knife outstretched to slay the victim when his faith, now fully tested, receives its reward. " Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou anything unto him, for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me." But where, we ask, is the lamb for the burnt offering. Behold, behind him there is a ram caught in a thicket by the horns ! No wonder that the rapturous joy that filled the patriarch's soul gave a new name to that hallowed spot — " Jehovah Jireh — the Lord will pro'N'ide,*' " The sainis should never be diimajed, Nor sink in belpleas fear; For when they least expect hia aid, The Savioor will appear. This Abraham found ; ho raised the knife, God saw, and said •♦ Forbear ! Yon lamb shall yield his meaner life — Behold the victim there." Now, wliat was the nature of this faith so conspicuously displayed in Abraham ? Wast it simply that unquestion- ing obedience wliich every child of God is boucd to render, even when the command is absolute and uncondi- tional ? Was it a firm belief in the wisdom of God's com- mand, although undiscoverable by humsiU reason ? — that 42 A LAMB FOR A BURNT OFFER»*'G. all things work together for good to them that love God, and that our Beverest calamities and our sorest bereave- ments may be our greatest blcsshigs ? There can be no doubt but that there were these elements in Abraham's faith, but there was viiirh more than these. The apostle throws light upon tliis interesting po" ' in the epistle to the Hebrews, where he says, " By fait .xbraham, when he was tried, offered up Isaac ; and he that had received the promises offered up his only begotten son, of whom it was said that in Isaac shall thy seed be called ; accounting that God was able te raise him from the dead, from whence also he received him in a figure." These words describe not only the character and strength of Abraham's faith, but the object of his faith. He recognized the power of God to raise his son from the dead, and believed, notwith- standing his being offered in sacrifice, t "tall the promises referring to him and t#his seed would iterally fulfilled. This faith in God's power to raise Isaac from the dead may mean one of two things, or both. It may mean that he beheved that by a miracle, akin to that of the resurrec- tion of Lazarus, his son would be restored to him, or that at the last day, in company with the dust of sleeping saints, the glorified body should rise and take its place at God's right hand. The latter belief is most consistent, and worthy of the glowing eulogium passed upon Abraham's faith by the apostle. For if Abraham was assured that his son was only for a brief season to be parted from him, and that from the ashes of the smoking altar, his body was instantly to be raised to life, there would have been little scope for the exercise of faith at all. But if we think of Abraham sacrificing his beloved son with no prospect of re- union until he himself had passed away to another world ; — as looking forward beyond the lapse of centuries to the A LAMB FOR A BWRNT OFFERINO. 48 final resurrection of the just, when, according to the pro- mise and power of God, ho should nwake to eternal life, we can cordially join witli tlio apostle in describing this act of faith as one of the grandest upon record ! That Abraham, apart from the declaration of the Apostle, was acquainted with the doctrine of the resurrec- tion, there is little reason to doubt. It was no new idea in that early age of the world. The creed of the Old Testament church demanded it, although it may not have been taught as dogmatically as with us at the present day. It was a hope that inspired the patriarchs with unspeakable comfort, when they laid in the grave the body of their friends. Pilgrims and strangers upon the earth, they looked forward to the possession of a better country, even an heavenly. Their language was that of David : "As for me, I will behold thy face in righteousness ; I shall bo satisfied wheii I awake with thy likeness. Thou wilt shew me the path ^f life ; in thy presence is fullness of joy ; at thy right hand tliere are pleasures for ever more." But was this all that Abraham's faith laid hold of when he offered Isaac for a burnt offering at God's command ? "What do we think of instinctively when we read the words ** My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering."? Most certainly, of the lamb of God, who, in the fulness of time, should come into the world to die for guilty man. That Abraham's faith took hold of this great central truth of the gospel, in common with saints of later days, we cannot doubt. Christ, when rebuking the un- believing Jews, contrasts their conduct with that of the Patriarch. ** Your father, Abraham, rejoiced to see my day, and he saw it and was glad." The day of Christ is his earthly existence — his manifestation m the flesh — the 44 A LAMB FOR A BURNT OFFERING. entire work of redemption, from the time of the advent until dying upon the cross he finished transgression and made an end of sin. It was this day that Abraham rejoic- ed to see, and did see, by faith. That his spiritual vision was clearer than the maas of Old Testament saints we can well believe ; that he had a more intelligent grasp of the sufferings that brought tVe Saviour to the cross we can easily understand, so that when standing upon Mount Moriah,'{)nd about to slay his son he thought of the time when, near that very spot, a greater tragedy was to be enacted, and blood more precious than that of Isaac to be shed by a father's hand. Yes, my hearers, the faith that instrumentally saves you saved Abraham. He rested in the merits of the atonement ; his eye looked upon the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world. ' . There was a time in the history of our race, when we can conceive of the angels weeping over man's fall, and saying •* Where is the lamb for the burnt offering ?"• The loud hosannas that from eternity had filled the heavenly world were silent, while justice pronounced the death knell of humanity. *'Die he or juBtice must ; unless for him Some other able, and as willing pay The rigid satisfaction — death for death." Then it was that the Son of God, "in whom the fulness dwells of love divine," offered to make atonement for man's sin, " Lo, I come in the volume of the book it is written of me, I delight to do thy will, 0, my God." Thus the Father provided himself a lamb for a burnt offering. Among evangelical christians there is perfect unanimi- ty of opinion that Christ died for the sake of others and not for personal guilt or sin. There are, however, many false A LAMB FOR A BURNT OFFERING. 45 vent and ejoic- Ivision |6 can if the can ount time to be to be that ed in ■iamb and unscriptural views held as to the nature of Christ's vi acious sufferings and death. In a popular discourse it is out of place to traverse the wide field of speculative theology and review the different opinions held concerning the atonement. THere is one, however, of comparatively recent date, that cannot be overlooked. "Admitted/' say certain writers, **that Christ's death and sufferings were vicacious and expiatory, the same principle runs through nature and human society. It is no uncommon thing to see one Buffering for another, end atoning by that suffering for wrong'doing committed, not by the man himself, but by another. Substitution is not unknown in our sinful world. The mother who watches day and night by the sick bed of her child, who is stricken with a deadly plague, and Uves only long enough to see her child restored, is an example of self-sacrifice. The youth who plunges into the deep to rescue hfs companion, and sinks to rise no more, after saving the life he loved, — and the physician who, when endeavoring to discover the secret nature of some fearful malady, dies a martyr to his heroism, are exajnples of vicari- ous suffering, and by such instances of wonderful affection we can understand the nature of Clirist's sacrifice for guilty men." Such language evinces but a limited knowledge of the most common facts connected with the death of Christ. His death was noi only suffering for the sins of others, but full satisfaction for the sins of others. It was not simply absolving tlie sinner from the curse of a broken law, but imparting to him a righteousness, altogether beyond human power to bestow. A man may suffer for another and the law may, in certain cases, accept such substitution, but all the human suffering in the world cannot change the character of the guilty one, nor alter his standing in the ■ I V 46 A LAMB FOR A BURNT OFFERING. sight of God and man. But Christ s death does hoth. As our substitute, he not only bears our sin but renders full satisfaction to an offended Deity for our crimes ; he pur- chases for us a full and free pardon ; gives us a perfect righteousnoss^ and renders certain our acceptance with heaven. Nor will anyone who attaches any meaning to the language of scripture, compare for a moment the terrible agonies of a dying Saviour with the sufferings of the creature. It seems almost blasphemy to whisper such a thing. We must first deny the divinity of Christ before such a comparison is reasonable, and, even then, we will find it hard to point out any similarity that gives the shadow of countenance to the theory we are now rejecting. There can be no doubt but that Isaac was a type of Christ. The cheerful surrender of his son by Abraham, and the consecration of that son to death, symboUses tlie more wonderful surrender and gift of God's own son for the salvation of our race. Without insisting, as some do, that Christ was crucified on the very spot where the altar was erected for Isaac, or that he had attained the very age of the Saviour when he died upon the cross, there are many points of resemblance worthy of notice. Isaac carri- ed the wood intended to consume his own body ; Christ bare his own cross. ''They took Jesus and led him away, bearing his cross. Isaac was to suffer for no special sin of his owa; Christ died for no personal guilt. "He was holy, harmlens and undefiled — separate^rom sinners. He was wounded for our transgressions ; he was bruised for oar iniquities — the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and with his stripes we are healed." Isaac willing- ly submitted to the command of his father, and made no attempt to save his life. So Christ, though he had the power to rescue himself from his enemies and escape the A LAMB FOR A BURNT OFFERING. 47 As Irs full supernatural agonies of the cross, cheerfully laid down his life. "Thinkest thou not that I cannot now pray to my father and he shall give me more than twelve legions of angels, but how then shall the scriptures be fulfilled?" It was by his father's hand that Isaac was to die ; it was that hand that was to fire the wood and fan the consuming flames ; and it was by the determinate counsel and fore- knowledge of God the father that Christ suffered upon the accursed tree. "Thou couldst have no power at all against me/* said Christ to Pilate, " except it was given thee from above." It pleased the Lord to bruise him. f He put him to grief; he made his soul an offering for sin. " Awake, 0, Sword, against my shepherd ; against the man that is my fellow ; smite the shepherd and the sheep shall be scattered." It was not the maUgnity of the Jews, nor the covetousness of Judas, nor the cowardice of Pilate that brought Jesus to the cross. These were but the instru- ments of heaven. God provided himself a lamb for a burnt offering in the person of his own beloved son. It is our joy and privilege to-day to make offer of this lamb of God who taketh away the sins of tlie wurlil. The death of Christ is the corner-stone of the cUusliau faith, as the burnt offering lay at the foundatitiu ui the whole sacrificial system, and gave value to all the other rites that followed. Before we can present acceptable oflferings of praise and gratitude, our souls must be sprinkled with atoning blood. The burnt offermg under the old Testa- ment economy was a i)€rpetual sacrifice, — day by day throughout all generations the lambs were to be offered at the door of the tabernacle before the Lord. So also the efi&cacy of Christ's sacxifice is perpetual. He dies no more, but by his one offering for sin he has forever propitiated the wrath of God and made reconciliation between man and his 1 1 48 If A LAMB FOR A BUBNT OFFERING. maker. Tlie power of Christ's cross to sftTe and to satisfy divine justice only ends with the restitution of all things It includes both Jew and Gentile. All who feel that they are sinners and rest in simple faith upon the infinite mercy of God in Christ may enjoy its blessedness. f "Jehovah Jireh " the Lord will provide. He has pro- vided in the past and his goodness and grace will attend us in the future. "He that spared not his own son, but dehvered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things." Every believer can testify to the faithfulness of God and the fulfilment of his promises. He may not therefore despond, nor dare to doubt his love. In our greatest straits deliverance is near. * *' Thongh troubles assail, >, And dangers affright, Though friends should all fail, And foes all unite : Yet one thing secures us, . V Whatever betide, — The Scripture assures us. The Lord will proride." tif i^ > * ,1 ' t FIRST LOVE. "Thou h&st left Ihy first love."— Revelation, 2nd, and 4th. The history, character and destiny of the churches of Asia, have been recorded in Scripture for the instruction and warn- ing of Christians at the present day. Prominent among the lessons taught us, is the responsibility of churches for the abuse of their reUgious privileges. He that walks among the seven golden candlesticks, and whose eyes are as a flame of fire, takes cognizance of their advancement or backsliding in the divine life. The text accuses the church of Ephesus of the latter crime. It had left its first love. Its original fervor and zeal in behalf of a pure Christianity had abated ; its earnest maintenance of the truth had given place to indifference and mere formal respect for the ordinances of religion. Spiritual life was feeble and steadily declining : those sin- gular gifts and graces — that pre-eminent holiness and purity of deportment, that marked its members in former years had given place to worldly-mindedness and mater- ial gratifications, inconsistent with the creed or practice of Apostolic Churches. Its glory was fast passing away — its sun waa setting to rise no more. \ 50 FIRST LOVE. The former history of the Ephesian church is an in- teresting one. No society of Christians ever gave such promise of permanence in the Lord's work, and successful endeavors to propagate a living Christianity. It was dis- tinguished in Apostolic history, for the absence of all those heresies and irregularities, that were so common in the early churches. "It had no disorders such as troubled Corinth ; no fanaticism such as had troubled Thessal- onica, and no violent schisms, such as rent in twain al- most every church that Paul had founded." The frequent visits of the Apostle to the Ephesian church, testify his extraordinary interest in its welfare. In his second mis- sionary journey he came to Ephesus and reasoned with the Jews. In his third, his preaching was so awakening and convincing, and the miracles he wrought so conclusive in favor of the divine power conferred upon him as an Apostle of Christianity, that Demetrius, the silver-smith, fearing that idolatry was about to be undermined and his gains diminished and the temple of Diana abandoned, incited the mob to violence and filled the city with con- fusion. It was to the Elders of the Ephesian church that the Apostle gave that touching farewell address on his way to Rome, commending them to God and the word of his grace, who was able to build them up, and to give them an inheritance among all them that are sanctified. And it was to the same Ephesian church that he wrote one of tlie most affectionate of all his epistles in which he speaks of them, as having made no mean attainments in the Christian calling, and as beinj: heirs with him of eter- nal life. The language of that epistle is the best evidence of the high estimate formed by Paul of their spiritual attainments, FIRST LOVE. 51 an in- e such cessful as dis- 1 those in the oubled hessal- ain al- equent ify his id mis- d with .kening elusive a. as an -smith, md his idoned, th con- ch that on his word of to give ictified. ote one lich he lents in of eter- ) of the ments, and singularly pure and holy lives. He speaks of them as having been chosen before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blame ; — as having been sealed with the Holy Spirit — as having been quickened together with Clurist — raised up and made to sit in heavenly places, and as builded together for an habitation of God tlurough the spirit. Such language is out of place, in describing any but matured and well grounded saints. The topics discussed and the mysteries spoken of are far above the comprehension of mere babes in Christ. Such deep things of the Kingdom could only be understood by men and women elevated by the divine Spirit into communion with heaven and enriched by a personal experience of God's love. Such was the character of the primitive church of Ephesus. How sadly it had changed before the close of the first century, is indicated by the words of the text. John, in Patmos, is commissioned by the Spirit to address it words of mingled commendation and rebuke. It was yet in many respects a noble little band, bnt the seeds of declension and decay had been sown, and symptoms of spiritual death were clearly visible. "I know thy works and thy labor, 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 labored and hast not fainted. " What church at the present day can show a fairer record ? They are not charged with immorahty, or idolatry, or heresy : they still maintained a bold, uncompromising atitude towards the truth, and were equally ready to testify against impostors, and to bear with patience suffering for the cause of Christ. In the estimation of men there was nothing to call forth remonstrance or cause alarm. But in spite of all these 52 FIRST LOVE. exterior excellencies, their inner life was deteriorating. The beauty and freshness and fragrance of their first love was sullied ; "the fire on theii- heart's altar was silently de- clining, and their heart's temple gradually growing dark and cold." "Nevertheless I have somewhat against thee, because thou hast left thy first love." "Remember there- fore from whence thou art fallen, and repent, and do thy first works ; or else I will come unto thee quickly, and will remove thy candlestick out of his place." This is the last mention of the Ephesian Church in the word of God. For its future history we mi.^.t consult un- inspired records. For many years it remained in a luke- warm condition. The Apostle John spent his last days among its members, i)reaching and exemplifying his les- sons of love. Ignatius, on his way to martyrdom, com- mended it for its fidelity and zeal. But at last it sank into hopeless spiritual decline, and drew down upon it the fiery vengeance of heaven. All that now remains of that once gorgeous city, arc a few unintelligible heaps of stones — mud cottages untenanted — fragmentary ruins — fallen temples and desecrated sanctuaries. The great city has become a desolation, and a dry land, and a -wilderness ; a land wherein no man dwelleth, neither doth any son of man pass by. The busy hum of a mighty population is now silent in death — the garden has become a desert. "Even the sea has retired from the scene of desolation, and a pesti- lential morass, with mud and rushes, has succeeded to the waters, which brought up the ships laden with merchan- dise from every country." As with the Church at Ephesus, so with churches at the present day. When the mass of professing Christians in any community become languid — listless and indifferent ; FIRST LOVE. 53 wedded to their carnal pleasures and recreant to their solemn vows, the same judgements are i'orthcominpf, and the same dark shadows will shroud the closing pages of their history. - ' " » What then let us consider are the marks of backsUding — that perilous state of soul indicated by the words, — "thou hast left thy first love?" * Fatal backsliding in God's children is impossible. Such seems to be the testimony of Scripture. Thc^ are con- stantly guarded and upheld by the faithful eye and arm of heaven. **The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord ; though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down : for the Lord upholdeth him with his hand." It is how- ever implied in this very promise of divina protection and succour, that a christian may temporarily backsUde and loose the consciousness of God's favour, and bring down upon himself severe chastisements. There is no case on record of a perfect unbroken spmtual walk. Saintship at best upon earth, is a frail and unsteady thing, ever liable to deviate from the path of holiness. The doctrine of perfect sanctification in the present state is contradicted daily, in the lives of men and women who profess ti/ have attained it. As has been quaintly remarked, "Sinners striving after sinless perfection are easily managed, but those who attain to it, become thenceforward exceedingly crooked and contrary sticks." It is also to be remarked, that mere alternation of feel- ing in christian experience from day to day is not back- shding. Occasional melancholy and depression of spirit is not backsHding. Decrease in the liveliness of our emo- tions is not backsliding. In mature years the believer be- 64 FIRST LOTE. comes more calm iu liis feelings ; and because the uovelty and glow of devotional feeling which characterized the per- iod of conversion has to some extent passed away, he is apt to conclude that he is loosing ground iu the divine life and apostatizing from his God. On the contrary, it is neces- sary for the full devolopment of christian manhood, that the rush of feeling and extraordinary excitement which often accompanies a change of heart sliould pass away. "In iJroportion as inere feeling subsides, practical power begins ; — excitement is not strength — true strength comes when it passes into action. The early splendour of the morn- ing is beautiful, but who would wish that it should never melt into the stronger glory of the noonday '? The first emotions of child] lood are beautiful, but who would not exchange them in all then* freshness for the calm, sober power of manhood ?" And so is it m christianlife. First love is of often — nay always — ignorant and inexperienced; unacquainted with the manifold hindrances that obstruct our progress iu holy living, it di'eams not of defeat, or re- verses ; it fears no opposition ; it anticipates no change in the intensity of its aspirations, or the sweep of its ener- gies. Those sins that so easily beset us are to be destroy- ed and rooted out of our nature ; — the world — the flesh and the Devil, are to be prostrated before the divme power new born within us ; and marching at the head of God's elect hosts, we are to conquer every adversary and res- tore the universe to paradisiac bhss ! Now when such fond dreams are not reahzed, and when christian life is found to consist in conflict — in a deadly struggle against inward and outw^ard foes, — we are apt to get discom'aged, and to question the reaUty of our calling. The frequent outbursts of joy and gladness that character- FI93T LOVE. 55 ized our earlier clays are wanting. The deep impressions of the divine presence and favour given us at our first communion season, (always memorable to the child of God) seldom recur again, and we give way to unjust suspic- ions, regarding the permanence of God's love, saying, *'l8 his mercy clean gone forever — doth his promise fail for evermore?" Such conduct is unworthy of any child of God. The sky even in the clearest days, has occasional clouds. The panorama of the heavens, is continually changing, baffling all powers of description by the artist's pencil. But these changes rather add to the beauty and splendor of the scene. So in like manner, the occasi- onal shadows that pass across the believer's soul, are often- times in the hand of God, forerunners of stronger faith and brighter hope. Our progress in divine truth is all the more certain, when that truth is reached, by stern ex- perience in the school of doubt and discipUne. In general the marks of backsliding are these : — Decrease in the strength of our convictions concerning the reality of unseen things; doubts as to fundamental doc- trines of the word of God, that assure the behever of his personal safety in Christ and the completeness of salva- tion ; and an increasing disposition to solve curious ques- tions, and understand perplexing mysteries that have little or no bearing upon a man's existence here or here- after. I know well, that some of our noblest christian philosophers have had such experiences and tendencies, for the greater our intellectual endowments and mental at- tainments, the more easily do doubts start up before the mind. Nevertheless they are indications of backsliding, if long continued. Unless there is strong faith to counter- balance them, they are dangerous to our spiritual life. 66 FIRST LOVE. Decrease in the power of divine truth over our hearts and hves, and a proportionate indifference to the claims of religion. The Bible becomes a burdensome and weari- some study — there is no relish — no hungering after truth — no seeking after God by meditation and prayer. No mid- night cries — no intercessory prayers for unconverted men. KeUgion becomes a purely mechanical and formal thing. We are not indeed slothful in business, but we are not fer- vent in spirit. Spiritual paralysis lays hold of the springs of the inner life and quenches all noble yearnings after closer fellowship with heaven. Decrease in our hatred of sin. It is no longer the abo- minable thing that it seemed in the past — that accursed thing that crucified the Son of God, and brought woe into our world ; that caused the angels to fall and now fills the realms of misery. There is less conviction of personal sin and less honest confession ; there is greater hardihood in venturing near temptation, and in forming guilty alliances with ungodly men : until "The struggling spark of good within Is smothered in the strife of sin." The whisperings of God's love, that in other days fell so sweetly upon the ear, are now unheard : "To other strains our souls are set: A giddy whirl of sin Fills ear and brain, and will not let Heaven^s harmonies coroo ^'^ " What, finally, are the causes of bv iding ? There is, I remark first, u erpet i tendency in human nature to backsUde. Backsliding i ^ the result of neglect- ing to advance. There must be constant prop^ress or their will be constant retrogression. We may als^ >e per- fectly unconscious of the fact that our love b rowing FIRST LOVE. 67 hearts ims of weari- ruth — o mid- i men. thing, lot fer- jprings after 16 abo- cursed t woe d now ion of greater rming fell so iman Sflect- 38 or per- ^ing cold, until awakened by some rude shock of providence to a sense of our cold and dying state. **Grey hairs are here and there upon liim, yet he knoweth it not." Just as we are unconscious of the radical changes that are going on in our physical constitution, so is it with backsliding in the divine life. Once begun, decline is rapid — the speed is constantly accelerated. The christian's journey heaven- ward is all the way, like going up an incUned plane. It is against nature — against the strong rebellious impulses of the human heart, and against the customs of the world. Eternal vigilance is demanded in our heavenward jour- ney. We must hold fast that which we have gained, and let no man rob us of our crown. There is secondly, the ever increasing excitement and competition of the business world, which has a strong ten- dency to lower the temperature of devotion in the child of God. In the shop and in the market place — was there ever a time when such keen rivalry was witnessed ? To keep pace with the demands of commerce and the customs of the age, day must be prolonged into night and the night turned into day. There is little or no leisure for quiet meditation, and soul nomrishment. Business men seem to walk from day to day on the verge of a rugged precipice, — their minds tortured and harassed by brooding over ex- pected monetary convulsions, and wide spread panics. Is it wonderful then, that the things of the coming world should be forgotten, amid the pressure of wearying anxie- ties and crushing cares, which bhght the sensibilities and sympathies of the soul, and invade the closet the family altar and the sanctuary of God ? . . There is thirdly, that love of pleasure and fashion, which is by no means confined to non-professors of reli- FIBST LOVE. gion, bnt is making terrible inroads into the church of Christ. When men and women are found more frequent- ly in the halls of laughter and frivoUty than in the house of God, or the prayer meeting ; when instead of engaging in useful work connected with the Church of Christ, they indulge in follies and foolish conversation — dreaming life away to no purpose and blotting out the Hue of demarca- tion between the pious and the profane, how can we ex- pect our churches to be prosperous and the cause of God to flourish ? When fashion reigns supreme, and Christ's friends and Christ's enemies — those who profess to love hun and those who avowedly despise him, meet so often together in the closest friendship, is it any marvel though numerous cases of backsliding should be found in our churches, and the love of many wax cold ? I come to-day however with more than words of re- buke. The cause of backsliding is departure from God and it must be overcome by a return. "0 Israel thou hast destroyed thyself but in me is thy help. Return unto the Lord, for thou has fallen by thine iniquity." It is not an unpardonable sin. God who is rich in mercy, receives his penitent children and remembers their sins no more for ever. Search out the cause or causes of your backsliding. There is a cause — the cause is not in any unwillingness on the part of Christ to give you the joy of former years. The Saviour never leaves liis people, until by their wilful sins they have withdrawn from his fellowship and need the rod af chastisement. Do not blame the coldness and in- difference of the Chuxoh — or the preaching of the Minis- ter, or the dullness of ordinances. The cause of back- sUding is in your own heart. Dissect your soul. Mark FIRST LOVE. 59 lurch of |requent- le house fngaging fst, they ling life ^emarca- we ex- of God Christ's to love so often though iu our of re- om God el thou ru uuto it is not receives o more sliding. inguess years. •Tvilful )ed the nd in- Minis- back- Mark your conduct during the past few months. Endeavor to ascertain the beginnings of this state of luke warmuess, and whatever be the cause destroy it by God's help. There must be no compromise — no yielding up of principle to gratify urh allowed pleasiu-es. Nothing short of cruci- fixion of the old man with his lusts will suffice. Continue in prayer, attend the means of grace. Take advantage of every ordinance that God places within your reach. Seek the society of God's people — the fellowship of those that call upon his name. No high degree of spirituality can ever be attained, in the cold atmosphere of the world. "Come out of her my people and be ye separ- ate — touch not the unclean thing," is the command to every child of God. The words of my text, altiiough words of rebuke arc characterized by great tenderness of feeling. He does not forget your services in the past, poor though they may have been ; he has uo desire to wound and bruise, or crush you to the earth under a sense of demerit. It is sorrow and not bitterjiess that moves him to say "thou hast left thy first love." Do you esteem it a trifling sin '? When a wife ceases to love the husband of her youth, or the husband the wife ; — when a strange and unnatural cold- ness and stiffness of manner, characterises their deport- ment, the one to the other, do we regard it as but a small offence ? When the man who promised to love, honor find cleave unto his wife until death divides them, aban- dons her society, seeks the acquaintanceship of other homes and basksinthe sunshine of other countenances, doweregard him with respect and think him worthy of confidence by men of honour and veracity ? No — we si)urn him as inhuman — as void of all natural affection, as lost to all sense of II FIBST LOVE. christian obligation ! And what shall we say of the man or the woman, who at God's altar solemnly vowed life long fidelity to Jesus Christ, but turns to other idols and wor- ships at other shrines ? What have you gained by the exchange ? Are you perfectly satisfied in the new relations you have found ? Do the gay smiles of worldly compan- ionship, and imrestrained indulgence in the frivohties of the passing hour, make up for that peace and joy and hal- lowed deUght, that characterised the beginnings of discip- leship, when the affections were undivided and the love was strong as death ? " Where is thy first, thy fervent love ? • V Dost thou forget my love to thee, That thine has grown so faint to me ? Becall to mind the happy days When thou wast filPd with joy and praise ; Bepcnt, thy former works renew, Then I'll restore thy comforts too." God's children, by backshding, lose much real enjoy- ment. How wearisome and burdensome are the exercises of the closet — the family altar — the prayer meeting — the sanctuary, the sacrament ? without the cheering presence of the Master. As the Bride in the Song who refused ad- mission to her beloved, sorrowfully repented of her folly and sought liim when he could not be found, so it is often with those who for a time prefer the pleasures of sense to the pure joys of Cluristian fellowship. "Open to me, my ..titer, my dove, my undefiled ; for my head is filled with dews and my locks with the drops of the night," says the Bridegroom. And the Bride repUes : ** I have put off my coat ; how shall I put it on ? I have washed my feet ; how shall I defile them ?" The Beloved of her soul departs, and conscience begins to accuse. When she opens the FIRST LOVE. 61 i man or life long nd wor- by the relations Bompan- olities of and hal- f discip- the love door, -he had withdrawn himself ; she called, but he gave her no answer ; she sought him, but she could not find him " And so it may be with some who now hear me. God grant penitence for past wrong doing, and grace to lead holier lives. "Yet, yet awhile, offended Saviour, pause; spare thy rebels for thine own name's sake ; Withdraw thine hand, nor dash to earth The covenant of our second birth. 'Tis forfeit like the first— we own it all. Yet for love's sake Let it not fall, But at thy touch let veiled hearts awake ; Speak for us, or we perish quite." enjoy- xercises Qg — the )resence ised ad- er folly is often lense to me, my ed with Jays the \> off my st; how ieparts, ens the - i PERSEVEEANCE OF THE SAINTS. Kept by the power of God, through faith unto salvation." — Ist Peter, 1st and 5th. Some of the most comx3reheusive and comforting des- criptions of the privileges of saintship, occur as it were in- cidentally in the word of God. The apostles did not con- tine themselves to abstract doctrinal discussions, when ap- propriately and impressively, at the beginning or end of their epistles, they could introduce some valued thought, that seemed to flash upon the mind in the fervor of com- position. An illustration of this truth occurs in the text. Peter is writing to the early Christians, persecuted and scattered over the world, for their steadfast adherence to the truth. Ho decribes them as "elect according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through sanctification of the Spirit. " He then in a spirit of grateful adoration ascribes praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, "who accoi ' ng to his abundant mercy hath begotten us again unto a lively hope, by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead." This hope he declares has for its object '* an inheritance incorruptible, undcfiled, and that fadeth not away." And not contented with this comprehensive sum- PERrtSVERANCE OP THE SAINTS. 68 TS. •— Ist ng des- were in- lot cou- ^lieu ap. ' end of liouglit, of corn- he text. ;ed and 9nce to to the ^tion of scribes , **who again 5t from t "an fcli not ) sum- mation of spiritual blessings that belong to believers, he adds, '* reserved in heaven for you, who are kept by the power of God, through faith unto salvation." I propose to consider the latter clause, independent of the context. Viewed by itself, and without detracting from the import- ant truths that precede or follow, it contains the secret of the believer's continuance in holiness, and his final sancti- fication. All that is necessary is simply to bear in mind, that this is but one, although a most important one, of the many blessings of redemption secured to the child of God, by the death of Christ. The language is striking. *• Kept by the power of God." It indicates security and safety. Men store away their valuables under lock and key — in strong iron chests, or in secret vaults built of solid masonry. Often, in addition, where large amounts of gold and silver are at stake, they maintain a standing guard to prevent all chance of rob- bery by day or night. There is thus implied the idea of value. Things that are not considered precious, intrinsic- ally or otherwise, are regarded with feelings of indifference. What is common and possessed of no specific attractions to excite the covetousness of the envious and dishonei?t, need not be defended. In the case of living beings, still another thought is included in the language of the text — that of tveaknesSt helplessness, 2^^'oneness to uander from the source of strength and the arm of protection. A cbild may be taken as an illustration of what we mean. In early years it is comparatively feeble. It can walk but a short distance without the support and guidance of a strong arm, and notwithstanding tbe natural affection it possesses for the parent, it will wander out of sight of home, and into dangerous and forbidden paths, unless the eye of love is 64 PERSEVEBANCE OF THE SAINTS. constantly upon its track. It knows not the perils and pitfalls that abound on every hand and trip the unwary traveller. Like the sheep that strays from the fold, and knows not to return, unless found and carried back in the loving arms of the shepherd, so is it with the helpless years of unsuspecting childhood. Finally, there is implied con- stant oversight ; vigilance by day and night ; a readiness to defend against every enemy, and succor in every emer- gency. Now all these particulars apply to the child of God, and throw light upon the text. I need not say how ignorant — how weak and defenceless, beUevers are in themselves ; not merely those who have but entered on a religious life, but even those who for a long term of years have enjoyed the highest privileges of saintship. Men and women consid- ered ripe in saving knowledge — thoroughly conversant with the whole round of Christian duty, and quick to discern the dangers that beset the Christian's daily walk, are often found exhibiting a recklessness of conduct altogether in- conceivable. Before very small temptations they instantly fall. To enjoy but a momentary indulgence in sin, and to gratify the baser impulses of their nature, they condescend to deeds of wickedness, inconsistent with that purity of conduct which the gospel demands. Such is human na- ture — not in its lowest and most debased aspects — not in a state of heathenism and lawlessness, but in what are con- sidered its noblest specimens ; — in cases where, so far as man can judge, God's grace has been at work, and marked advancement has been made in the higher qualities of the Christian life. * The text, then, so far from asserting that regenerated men cannot commit sin, rather implies that they^do. The I'HUSKViKANl.'K OF THE SAINTS. bo Is and unwary >ld, and in the ]ss years lied con- fiuess to emer- od, and orant — ■OS ; not life, but yed the consid- ant with cern the Lre often ther in- nstantly , and to descend urity of aan na- not in a re eon- ) far as marked of the aerated . The l.uif^u.iLjij rcniiiuls us of our li ibility to f.iU, but assures us ili;it ki'pt l>y tlio po\v(T of (r«)il, no truu boJievcr can fall iiway to p.'rclition. Tlio history of ciuiaeiit saints of God mill our own e\[)cricncc attt'st tho truth of scripture. Nowlicro iloos ilio \vv)r(l of (lod f^ivo counteiuincc to tho tloctrino of porfct'tion in the present life. Nay, even tlioso wlio profess to l)olieve in tlie attannnent of such a blessed state, invarial)ly tle:il with men as if tho reverse were the f;ii't. AVlr.it th;; te\t teaclies is, tliat although cftcctually called l)y CIoiVs si)irit to l)e heirs of salvation — although we ;i re tho subjects of ronewi'.i;; . I race, and have underc^onc a r.ulical cliange — we are every moment in danger of attack l)y secret and open enemies, who plot our destruction, 'lliere is sti'l tliat within us wliich seeks gratification in evil without us ; a constant proneness to taste of unhal- lowed pleasures jind pluck forbidden fruit; to come down from our hlAi position as the sons of God, and mingle with tho grovelling and debasin;j; things of earth. Watchfulness, as well as pray(?r, is constantly demanded. The enemy of souls is craftv ; we must be shrewd and vigilant. His policy is secret ; we must be skilled in his tactics. His ;iss;iulls are fierce and desperate ; we must steadfastly re- sist, aud tenaciously cling to a stronger arm. There is no ixriod in our earthly history when we can relax our hold of SoA jreign pov,\ r, and stand in our own resources. Ho V precious, then, is tho truth, that God hreps his ]t'r.])l.' ! Tli'^y can jievcr be castaways. They may wan- e'er fill- from the fold —they may turn their back, like the prodi'jal, ui)on their home, and forget the smiling of their Jatlier s couiitenance, but eventually they shall be restored, and sing with the Psalmist, *' He brouglit me up also out of an horrible pit, out of tho miry clay, and act my feet upon Nv PEBSEVEBANCE OF THE SAINTS. |i a rock, and established my goings." "Ho will keq) the feet of liis .saints, but the wicked shall be silent in darkness." *• The Lord is thy keeper ; the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand." "He is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before the presence of his glory with exceeding joy." Surely no child of God, who grasps such promises with any measure of faith, need despair or be cast down ! Tlie weakest and most helpless member of the family is the most beloved and cared for. He is the chief concern of the household. There is a rivalry in minister- ing to his wants and adding to the comforts which helj) to mitigate the loneliness and sutferings of such a child. So it is in the family of God's children. God looks with an eye of compassion and sympathy upon their imperfections. To sustaiM — to defend them from evil — to preserve them from the great adversary of souls, is his constant care. Thus sheltered by his outspread wings and shielded by omnipotence ; — upheld by that arm that liolds tlie universe in being, and ever followed by a sleex^less eye, what is there to fear concerning the ultimate destiny of the child of God ? " Though tho sons of might blaspheme, More there are with us than them ; Hell is nigh, but Christ is ni^hfr, Circling us with hosts of lire." Kept hy the j)oii'er of God. We are 'not able of oiirselves to keep from faUimf. The points of attack and the infirmities of the flesh are too many for human streiigth and vigilance. Our good resolutions are of no account, unless supported by sovereign grace. When we feel the strongest, we are the most helj)less. " In my i)rosperity I said, I shall never be moved. Lord, by thy favor thou hast made my mountain to stand strong. Thou didst hide thy face, and I was troubled." Peter felt as if he never could deny the Master. PERSEVERANCE OP THE SAINTS. C7 cp tlio ncss." on thy antl to |y with s such be cast of the 10 chief nistcr- lelj) to (1. So ith ail ctions. til cm care, [led by iiiverse s there F God ? Ivcs to raities laiico. ted by •e the rev be ntaiii ' was aster. When the Saviour's face beamed love upon him as he sat at the passover table, ho was confident of ropelUiig nil the attacks of Satan. Others mij^dit forsake Christ — he never. Others mij^ht act the coward, when the cross and cruci- fixion drew near, but ho would joyfully go to prison or to death for the love that he bore to the Master. Nay, al- though warned that the hour of his shamorul downfall was at hand, and that Satan desired to sift him as wheat, he repeated in the boldest terms his attachment and unswer- ving fidelity to the Lord Jesus Christ. But {ilinost as soon as the flush of the i>assover excitement had passed away, he shamefully denied all knowledge of the Nazarene. Peter was sincere in his professions of attachment, but he over- estimated the resources of his nature, ^vllen divine guidance has been cast aside. Xor can ininistt'is and onUnauccs keep fromfaUiivj. We may warn and entreat you to exercise vigilance. We may point out the more likely temptations that beset you, and pray for your steadfast continuance in well doing, but all is in vain without a higher power. The best of ministers arc but temptible men ; their own safety lies in looking away from the ofTico which they hold to Him who anoints with the heavenly oil, and sanctifies their studies for their own individual good. The means of grace arc valuable aids in the Christian life, but when rehed upon apart from the enlightening and saving power of God's Holy Spirit, hinder rather than help us. Under the covert of church attendance and church membership, crimes have been secretly committed unsurpassed in the records of human depravity. The priest who has oflerod incense at the altar, and the people who have sacrificed in the pres- ence of the Most High, have stained their garments with unholy acts. Our hope of continuing steadfastly to the end rests not in the purest forms of saintly fellowship on 1 08 PERSEVERANCE OF THE SAINTH. oiU'lli, but "in coinmiiliiij^ llic Ivorpiiij'r of our souls to Him ill ^vdl doing, as unto a laithrul Civutoi'." "Iliisi tlionnot known ? li.'ist thou not licunl, tJjat tli(^ cncrlasiiiif; (iod, tlic Lord, tlic Creator of tlic ends of tlio carfli, rainictJi not, noitlier is ^v(!ary ? tliore is no scart'liiii/^ of liis uiul< rstand- inj.';. Ho jjfivetli power to tin* faint ! and tothcni tluitliave no miglit lie incroasotli stren.(:tli. J'iVen tlie yontlis shall faint and liC weary, and the young men shall utterly fall • ] >ut they that wait upon the Lord shall renew theii- strength; they shai] mount up with wings as engh^s ; they shall run and not he weary, and they shall wallc jind not faint.' "The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath thee are the everhistin.ir arms." n It is objected to the doctrine we are now discussing, that in practice it has a pernicious tendency. *'H* you teacli a man that his salvation is secured beyond all risk of failure — if a man knows that the Sovereign ]Knver of God is pledged for his safety — that tJie final loss of his soul is im- l)0ssible — that the covenanted mercies of God are his by eternal and unchangeable decree — where is there the in- centive to lead a holy life, lo l)e vigilant and v.atchful against the many temptations that test the Christian's faith in the present life ? If iinal victory is assured, independ- ent altogether of our own agency and eilort, will not a false feeling of security be engend( red ? In otlur words, does not the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints tend to licentiousness — an indulgence in sin that grace may abound ?" I answer, that although the power of God is j)ledged to keep the believer from falling a^^■ay, the work is not all divine. It presumes and demands the co-operation of the creature. Constant prayfulness and diligence are necessary, in order to make our calling and election sure. PEUSKVKRANCK OF THK SAINTS, 60 to Him llOU lK)t, lod, tlic til not, rst.'md- iii liavo IS slinll Iv fall . » riMijjjtli; ijill run i'iiiiit.' lec Jiro ig, tliat on ell a ' failure God is 1 is im- liis by tlio in- iitcliful 's faith lopond- a false Is, docs s tend :;e may God is work is eratioii ice are I sure. •'Kopt l)y,tho power of God, tlnnnfih /,tiih unto salvr.tlon." is tlie lan^Miaiifo of tin; text. •' W(> whom 1 lified, t by God able, neither powerr iior dej ud frun This i()fdiic( iipproa all his li"y- ^ Ithou s^ sliouUl also, v< that ti: "Oh, t believe sancti/ of one convci iFntlie done, to giv were ] his m pende This i of the Propl PEnSKVEUANCE OF THE MAINTS. n ntagc of 't pnrifi- itli. Iji tlio (loc- or cxi)o- )f. every miiiality IS of tlie 3 ilic as- ill ques- rc^'ariLs low Unit to bniFct conspire I can go ' God bo ^ fcars — the dis- lul given ot doubt iveraiico My ac- t of iny he child 's argil- J ever bo I of the sons of 3 thing low, be > of his Sou ; whom ho did predestinate, them also ho called ; and whom he called, them also he justified ; and whom he jus- lified, thorn also ho gloriiioJ." All this has been secured by God's gift of Clirist, whose love for his own is unchange- able. Therefore, says the Apostle, '♦ I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, northings to come, nor heigbt, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate uii from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." This union of Christ and his people was a frequent themo of discourse, when the Baviour spoke to his disciples of his iiliproaching death. The prospect of gutlirring into heaven J{ all his redeemed ones, filled his mind with unspeakable jny. In his valeflictory prayer he says, " I pray not that thou sliouldest talio them out of tlie world, but that thou slioulJost keep thcui from, the evil. Father, I will that they also, v.'hom thou hast given me, may ha with wr where I inn : |tliat they may behold my glory, which thou hast given me." "Oh, the full joy," says lUchard Baxter, "ofl'ered to tlio believer in this one sentence of Christ." Preservation — Hanctiflcation — unitii — (jlorij. It is the language of royalty — of one who knows that what In asks willbc granted — of one ■ conversant with the decrees of lieaven— wliose will is the jFHtlier's will; — of one whoso earthly v.ork was nearly done, and Avho had aright todcmanti, as he had the pov/er [to give, eternal life. It would ahiiost .seem as if heaven were not heaven to Christ v/ithout his people. His joy, liis mediatorial happiness is capable of increase, and de- pendent uiion the fellowship of the redeemed in heaven. This is the joy that was set before him : whon he shall see of the travail of his soul and bo satisfied; when, as tlio Prophet says, *'IIe will save, he will rejoice over thee with 72 PERSE VERANCK OF THE SAINTS. joy ; ho will rest in liis love, lie will joy over tliet' Avith Hillgill,',^" Then, with a mciining never bclovo realized, Ik; shall say, "those that thou jjavest me 1 hare lupt, aiulnojiij of them islowt." Sharers of his glory — iMirtuers of his throne and for ever with him, surely this must be the culmination of beatific bliss! Hemmed in by the deshly conditions (f our prt^s- ent existence, wc can but faintly conceive of such a state. The light is too bright for mortal eye — tlu^ strains too rap- turous for mortal ears ! lUit patience : — '• Tlioso fyc^s, tliat dnzzloil now ami weak, At {^liinciii;^ iuot( s ill smishim.! wink, Shall see the Kiii<,'"s full u'loiy l»r»ak, Nor from tho blis.-^fi;! visiuu bhiiuk : Tl ^ distant lamUciiiu' ("Iraws not Mi;^'li For all our gazing: bnt the b(iui. That upward looks, may still dtncry Nearer, fuch day, ilie brightejiing goal." '* ThoiT wilt sliow mo the paths of life : in thy presence is fuhiess of joy ; at thy riirht hand tliere arc pleasures for evorm</ (Jod liula Kiiind, on. Liid iiaviii;i: attained that hol'ness which makes mocLlnrtlie inhcritano<' o ftlie saints in liLrlit-tiui cJmrcli, th'! Kin' aui dii ei* shall enter into the King'-^ palace with gladness and njoic- iug — all glorious within and her clothing of wrought gol.l." y ■ Leo uitli |i]i/t is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and beoometh a tree, so that the birds of the air eome and lodge in the branches thereof." " Another parable spake he unto them : The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman took and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was leavened/' — Matthew, xiii, 9. 31-33. OSOllCC IS ^uros for ^"litoous- iuLviiig leritiirici^ auglitoi', it []rol I."' In former parables spoken by Christ, and contained in this chapter, the difficulties and obstacles in the way of a rapid diffusion of Christianity are chiefly dwelt upon. In that of the sower and the seed, only one part of th6 seed prospered ; three parts were lost. That which was sown by the wayside, on the stony ground and among thorns, produced no results whatever. In the following, parable the harvest was greatly injured by the tares which were sown among the wheat by the enemy. A large portion of valuable ground was taken up by the useless weed, which was fit only to be burned. And now, lest the disciples should become unduly discouraged by these repeated de- clarations, concerning the evil principles that contend in the world and in the human heart, against the trath, Christ adds the words of our text, to indicate the oxpand- 74 THE GROWTH OF THE KINGDOM. ing and assimilating power of true religion, in spite of aU opposition. The mustard seed was by no means the smallest of seeds known in the time of Christ, but it was the smallest of the seeds commonly sown by the husbandman, and the tree, when grown, was much larger than the other herbs of the garden. Travellers speak of mustard trees so large that men could climb into the branches. This would be nothing singular in a forest tree, but is unusual in a garden herb. The point especially aimed at in the parable is the large- ness of the plant, from a seed so comparatively small. True it had many other valuable properties which may with advantage be used, in describing the effects of Chris- tianity in the world. It was puugent, fiery, penetrating and searching, and so is the gospel, when brought by the Holy Spirit into contact with the hearts and consciences of men. But none of these qualities are at present under review. Enough remains for consideration, if we regard the parable as simply intended to teach the possibility of vast results from msignificant beginnings, — the successive and rapid development and ultimately universal spread of true religion, from a small and unpromising germ. The Old Testament, as well as the New, invariably re- presents Christ's kingdom as unpretending and insignificant in its advent. The prophet Ezokiel describes the Assyrian empire as a cedar, whose height was exalted above all the trees of the field. Daniel sp aks of the Chaldean empire as a tree whose height reached unto heaven, and the sight tiiereof to the end of the earth. But far diffei ;ntly do these same Prophets speak of the beginnings of Christian- ity. It is likened to the stone cut out of the mountain without hands, that break in pieces the images of brass, and cla fined to the ban waters, it beco e?ery truthfu world, Firs becauE most 8 oak, fi structi the oc trees t or less ofGoi promi Chris butli (liffer Amid deatl] gran( The] Imp( worl( smal be n rece: wer< the .^-i4BBr#' itc of aU t of seedfi Bt of the the tree, bs of the fcrge that nothing -en herb, he large- ly small, lich may of Chris- letrating it by the jiences of jnt under ^e regard ibility of Liccessive pread of ably re- jnificant Assyrian 3 all the 1 empire he sight ntly do iristian- ountain f brass, THE GROWTH OF THB KINGDOM. ■»r 1' 76 and clay, and silver, and gold ; — ^to a stream, at first con- fined to some Uttle hamlet, apparently so resistless thi(t the hand of a child might stop its flow and dissipate its waters, but eventually spreading out and widening, until it becomes a sea, whose arms and tributaries penetrate every corner of the globe. Such illustrations most truthfully set forth the rise of Christ's kingdom in the world, and the present and future victories of the Cross. First, the kingdom of God is like the mustard seed, because of the apparent insigiuficance of the germ. Take al- most any seed, and the product seems marvellous. The oak, from whose timbers are constructed the most durable structures of human art, and the strongest ships that sail the ocean, was once a little acorn, and all the lesser forest trees and garden herbs and flowers sjiraug from seeds more or less small and insignificant. So it is with the kingdom of God in the world. Not to go further back than the promulgation of Christianity and the organization of the Christian church, — the advent of Christ seemed an event but little likely to meet the wants of the world, and very (lifferent from the expectations of philosophers and sagee. Amid helplessness and poverty, exposed to danger and death, and surrounded by nothing of earthly state and grandeur did the Saviour of men appear at Bethlehem. The nation from wliich He sprang was under subjection to Imperial Rome ; what little religion then existed in the world was confined to tlie little space of Palestine, so small, that if blotted from the map, its place would scarce be missed. The Jews, too, his own countrymen, instead of receiving iiim with open arms, as the predicted Messiah, were among his bitterest enemies, and more, perhaps, than the heathen power, embittered his ^ife and hastenad hk 76 THE GROWTH OV TUK KINGDOM. death. How insignificant a personage to the eye of mcu did Jesus appear as he trod in silence and in sorrow the streets of Jerusalem, or wandered to the humble cottage, where Mary and Martha and Lazarus lived ! How pitiable Ru object, as he stood meek and unmurmuring before the judgment seat of Pilate ! How little were the indications of the future greatness of the new religion, as its authoj- bore his cross through Golgotha, towards Calvary, amid the derision of his murderers and the cowardice and indif- ference of his friends ; still less, when from the cross to the tomb, the lifeless body of the Son of man was carried, amid tlic grief and tears of his disciples, sincere but few ! ** We trusted that it should have been He, which should have redeemed Israel," said the two disciples on their way to Emmaus, " and beside all this, to-day is the third day since these things were done." The disciples themselves seem at times to have been disappointed in their conception of Christianity. If they did not doubt its divine character, they frequently lost faitb in its power, and when at Iftst the Master was taken from them, they gave themselves up to a state of inind that ill became the preachers of a new reHgion. The declara- tion of Christ, that feeble though they were, they should be the instruments of evangelizing the world did not fall upon their ears as a reality. Not until the day of Pente- coL't, when the Holy Spirit began the great work of awakening, did they rouse themselves to a sense of the dignity of their office and the certainty of their success. Need we wonder then, though men of the world should have regarded Christianity as feeble and inadequate to ac- complish the great end, prepared by its divine author *? Second, the kingdom of God is like the mustard seed, be- THE GROWTH OP THE KINODOM. n e of men |iTow the cottage, pitiable jefore the jdicationa M authot ry, amid I nd indif- •ss to the i carried, but few! h should heir way bird da.T ave been If they ntly lost ^as taken aiud that declara- r should not fall f Pente- work of 5 of the success. I should B to ac- or '> cause of its iwobserved and (jradual (jrouth. The growth ol any seed is silent and impercej tiblo. It is life out of death. After the seed has burst the ground you can scarcely note its progress from day to day, far less see the blade and ear forming and rising upwards. So has it been with the kingdom of God in the world. The soil where the seeds of divine truth were first sown, wus most uuT^romisiug. That it lived at all, — far less that it extend- ed in spite of the secular despotisms of the age, and the violent opposition of skopticul and unbolicving Jew3, — is convincing evidence of its divine character. Nor h:u; there ever been a period when it has nut made progress. At times, to the judgement of sense. Christianity seemed well nigh overpowered. The per^^ecution of the Apos- tolic age was more than etjualled by the ten fearful persecutions of the Ivoman Emperors, during the first three centurie . Tlieii came the dark ages, so fatal to the spread of knowledge, intellectual and spiritual; and finally the tortures of tlie In([uisiti(;ii, wlien the Papacy, under the name of religion, cnhuivored to destroy all traces of a pure Christianity, and exterminate the few remaining members of Christ's kingdom upon the earth. But in spite of the conflicts and martyrdoms of those dark iges and evil days, the truth advanced. The seed was constantly growing, watered tliough it was with the pre- vious blood of God's own saints. Therag(^ and fury of the •nemy but increased the boldness and heroism of Christ's followers, until now, like the mustard seed, Christianity spreads forth its giant arms across continents and king- doms, offering shelter and security to all who are within reach of its influence and power ied, be- No man can explain how the seed grows. Our know- 78 TIIK GROWTH OF THE KINGDOM. ledge ends with the fact. It is due to that Divine Being whose band is constantly moving in the world of nature. And no more can we explain the wonderful growth of the kingdom. Silently, througli the Spirit's agency, not by sudden and marvellous explosions, but by noiseless opera tions. Just as the temple of Solomon rose up silently but majestically in its fair proportians, does the kingdom of righteousness rise upon the ruins of humanity, until the work of grace is completed, and that of glory begun. In the growth of this kingdom every believer has a pai*t. The husbandman may not be able to aid the seed as long as it lies beneath the ground, but when the p'unt begins to grow, his daily care and cultivation is demanded. Just in proportion to his diligence is his reward. It is his to fos- ter and remove all hindrances. The laws of nature de- mand such care, else they refuse to yield abundantly. And so it is in the kingdom of God. Man is a co-\v(jrker with heaven. Certain laws in the spiritual world luust be ob- served before we can look for certain results. Although i\w growth of the seed does not depend upon our efforts, that growth may be hastened or impeded according to our in- terest or apathy. The promise of the text, so far from leaving all to thr^ operation of supernatural powers, de- mands every Christian to do what in him lies, for the hastening of the glorious end. Third, the kingdom of God is like the mustard seed as regards thr o^eatness of thf results. The mustard seed be- comes one of the greatest of trees, in which the birds of the air build their nests. Christ came from heaven to earth to benefit no single race, but to bless mankind. The Gospel He proclaimed was for all nations. We see not, as yet, the complete fulfilment of the promise, but we see the iu- [dication luniversi lands ai ings for uessed. lifter ai assert i softene are un The 1( 1, bonda^ ftlread; his me I shall \ as the and \ aclain An( 80 is i like t gradu gloric at fir perfe oulti^ creat plani circi] of a^ new] strei first der le Being nature, fli of the not by js opera bntly but fgdom of mtil tlie m. s a part. I as long Jegins to Just ill is to fos- iture de- ly. And ivor with ■it be ob- ough th« rts, that ► our in- 'ar from ers, de- for the seed as eed be- s of the )arth to Gospel as yet, the iu- THE GROWTH OF THE KINGDOM. f%, dications more visible than in any other age, that the universal reign of Christianity is drawing near. If heathen lands are not yet reclaimed and civiUzed, there are open- ings for the gospel such as have never heretofore been wit- uessed. Steadily and radicaUy, one form of wickedness after another is being abohshed, while morahty and virtue assert their sovereignty. Despotic governments are being softened. Uucbristian lands, in spite of intolerant creeds, are unconsciously feeling the influence of divine truth. The letters are falling from the slave and the yoke of bondage from the human mind. The sun of righteousness already gilds the mountain tops of far-off lands, and soon in his meridian glory shall flood the world. The wilderness shall become a garden, the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose ; thorns and briers shall give place to myrtles and palm trees, and the islands of the sea, with load aclaim, shall sing the honors of our Saviour King. And as is the process of Christ's kingdom in the world, so is it in individual souls. Grace is at first but ft germ, like the mustard seed. Its progress is unseen, silent, gradual and apparently slow, but its results are vast and glorious, Man's spiritual powers, like his intellectual, are at first infantile. Only one man has ever been created perfect and furnished with all the powers of ar matured and cultivated intellect, and only one man has ever been created with a pure and holy heart. But grace once im- planted in the human heart, grows under the most adverse circumstances, and is developed by the most insignificant of agencies. A word, a prayer, a sermon, often fixes the newly converted soul in its attachment to the Saviour, and strengthens its resolutions. The first cry for mercy, the first serious thought, may seem small and trifling, but un- der God's blessing how great are the consec[uences ! Giace 80 THfe OBOWTH OF THE KINGDOM. onee in tho heart can never be destroyed. There may be alternations of feeling, occasional donbts and weakness of faith in regard to important matters of doctrine, bat he that begins the work will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ. Have not the agencies employed in modern times, as well as in Old Testament times, for the accomplishment of God's designs of mercy with our world, been com- paratively weak and insignificant? God's people are in cruel bondage under the haughty King of Egypt. A mother takes her child, and, to save him from the hands of the bloody tyrant, lays him in a little basket by the banks of the River Nile. Directed by Providence, the Hebrew child falls into the very hands which, in ordinary circum- stances, would have ensured its death. But, destined for great and noble work,he is spared to become the deliverer and commander of the Israelites and law-giver of the world. Our world lay paniing for civil and relij^ious liberty in the days of papal supremacy, with no one to marshal the host of God's elect, and defy the powers of anti- Christ. A young monk, sitting in his lonely cell in a German convent, becomes convinced of the superstitious dogmas of his church, and, renouncing his faith, becomes the herald of the Reforma- tion and inaugurates a religious awakening that shook the thrones of Popes, and spread the truths of the Kingdom throughout the world. A few years ago, in the midst of the financial crisis, that brought panic and consternation into this and other lands and involved so many seemingly prosperous men in ruin, a single individual in the city of New York resolved to establish a noon-day prayer meeting for the benefit of business men. For some days but few attended, but the few kept on prayi^ag. At length the number room, c ilame o opened savingl street the ag( grace t Int: in di£f( gress leaven tue of of hui of the its ov/ n Alt way I inth( mvst< m hut a chan ne*'ei whei atin^ Hea f«nd leav F lea\ Th< THE GROWTH OF THE KINGDOM. 811 [may be Eness of bat he )f Jesus Imes, as (ishment n corn- are in pt. A lands of banks Hebrew circum- ined for 3rer and Id. Onr 3 days of >f God's : monk, ►ecomes h, and, ? forma - )ok the ngdom idst of rnation mingly city of leeting at few th the numbers swelled, until within a few mouths the spacious room, containing linndrcdfl, was crowded to excess. The tiame of revival spread. Churches and theatres ahke were opened at noon-day for religious exercises, and thousands savingly converted to the living God. And now the Fulton street prayer meeting has become one of the wonders of the age, where, as in Pentecostal times, amazing works of grace are wrought. In the parable of the leaven, the same truth is taught us in different form. In that of the mustard seed, the pro- gress of the Kingdom is from within. In that of the leaven, by acquisitions from without. The gospel, in vir- tue of its contugious influence, spreads among the masses of humanity, transforming and changing the evil principles of the human heart and assimilating all that it touches to its own nature, even as the leaven does the meal. Although the process of fermentation is in a general way understood, how the leaven produces certain changes ill the substance with which it is mixed, is as yet one of the mysteries of science. Two facts are plain. That it needs but a very small quantity of leaven to produce a complete change in a la^ge quantity of flour, and that it is only necessary that the process of ferjnentation should begin wherever the leaven happens to be, in order to its perme- ating the entire masi. 80, says Christ, is the kingdom of Heaven. ** It is like unto leaven, which a woman took and hid in three measmres of meal, tiU the whole was leavened." From this we learn : ^ First, That Cliristianity is an imported power. The leaven was taken and put into the three measures of meal. There was no affinity whatever between the substances. 82 THE OgOWm Oi' Tdl, KINOPOII. So the gospel of the grace of God in an elemcut foreign to our falleu world. It doea uot grow up spoutaucouHly in men's hearts, nor find a cordial reception in society. It Ih something brought into this world, antagonistic to all the commonly received opinions and principles of men. It is not a philosophy, the x^^oduct of human genius, but a quickening power cast into the dead mass of humanity, to exercise its renovating and regenerating effects. It thus maintains a constant protest against the false behefs and er- roneous practices which enslave the mass of men, while, at the same time, it gains ascendancy oyer the human heart. Second, Christianity is a hidden power. The leaven was hidden in the meal. Working from within outwards, it changed the entire substance from centre to circumference. And thus it ever is with saving truth. It works internally before it is developed in the outward life. Regeneration does not consist in mere reform of conduct, but in a radical change of heart. It does produce an outward reformation, but the outward never precedes internal convictions. "The kingdom of God is within you," said Chrint. It does not consist in mere observance of outward forms, and in avoid- ing the grosser sins of life. It is a radical change of nature, — the implanting of new principles and the cherish- ing of new desires. To put mere restraint from vice in room of vital piety is like tying decayed apples upon the branches of a barren tree. The fruit turns to rottenness, but the tree is not benefited by the unnatural alliance. There is no real union in such a case between the branches and the fruit, and no channel for the transmission of the sap. Third, Christianity is an assimilating power. The leaven gradually penetrated the whole mass, until every particle partook some 81 As has piece jewel, ( placed taken ] with til is leav< heart, man, If anj any m There lution creed, Thi more a vio leavii until the/ even thro^ new ofG simi hea"^ T anil the qut peigii to "sly ill It in all the It IB but a ity, to |It thus and er- hile, at 1 heart. en was ards, it erence. ;orually eration radical f mation, . "The 3es not avoid- inge of berish- i^ce in 3n the nness, ianoe. inches 3f the Baven >rticle THE OROWTH OF THE KINGDOM. partook of its own nature. Nothing but the leaven, or some Buch fermenting power, could accomplish this change. As has been remarked, if the woman had taken a stone, or piece of granite, or common pebble, or even a preciouH jewel, or any precious metal such as gold and silver, and placed it in the heart of the meal, no change would have taken place. But immediately the leaven is incorporated with the meal, the work of fermentation goes on, until all is leavened. It is thus when the gospel is recived into the heart. It never rests uutil it has changed the whole man, and recreated in him the image of God. If any man be in Christ, or if Christ be formed in any man the hope of glory, ho becomes a new creature. There are new views of sin and of the Saviour ; new reso- lutions ; new and higher aims in life ; a new heart, a new creed, and a new existence. This change is not only radical, but it is permanent. It is more than a mere momentary impulse towards holiness, or a violent mental agitation which speedily passes away, leaving no evidences of results behind. Tlie work goes on , until the soul is fitted for the enjoyments of heaven. As the Apostle says, we are thus "changed from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." Just as old coins are thrown into the furnace and recast, bearing an entirely new device and the image of another sovereign, so the grace of God, impresses the divine image upon the heart and as- similates the entire nature into conformity to the will o^ heaven. True civilization, which is but another name for Christi- anity, ever thns achieves its victories. It does not attack the mere framework of society, by correcting flagiant abuses, qnt it endeavours to lay the foundations of virtue and holi* IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) A ij.. IXI I I.I 1.25 |50 ■^" ■■■ ^ US 110 m 1.4 11.6 Hiotographic .Sciences Corporation 23 WIST MAIN STRKT WEBSTER, N.Y. 145M (716) 873-4503 .V^ \ ^ a>^ \ :\ *, >. «-- , ^ <^ C> \^^1^ ^ ^ ^ 84 THE OUOWTH OF THE KINGDOM. ness in the citizenship of the Kingdom. When indiyidual hearts are changed, the aggregate character of the nation is Koon changed. All missionary success has thus been pro- moted. Not by formally attacking vices that are inseparable from false religions, but by preaching and teaching the simple doctrines of the Cross. Thus did Christianity become so terribly effective against heathen governments and pagan systems of morality. The Eoman Empire felt an influence through its every artery, which it could neither understand nor cast off. The wickedness of the age was not so much dwelt upon, as the positive truths of Christianity were en- forced. The spirit of the gospel is directly opposed to every form of depotism and immorality, and wherever it is faithfully declared, there will be found reformation and purification in the body politic. It is implied in the parable under consideration, that the religion of Christ, shall yet embrace the world. The en'. Ic? not yet, but every additional soul, brought under the influ- ence of the truth, hastens that promised period. We are never to despond, although the conversion of the world to the Saviour seems distant. From man to man and family to family and sea to eea, the glad tidings of great joy are being transmitted, until — as every particle of the meal is ©hanged — so this entire globe, t^hall become the garden of the Lord. One sinner brought under deep concern for his soul's salvation, yearns to tell others his deliverance froni wrath and the newly imparted joy that possesses his souI« The contagion spreads, until the prayer meeting is all aglow with holy fire. The congregation next feels the influence of revival, and the entire community shares in the common blessing. The town or city in its turn becomes a radiating point to other parts ofthe kingdom, and the breftth of prayer finally It is tl dwelli thepv are st( earth, God." 1 A« these Lej enter room prise caus( presc But victc groT tien hasi deh win aze gra THE OBOWTH OF THB KINGDOM. 85 lividuaJ ation is n pro- )arable ng the )ecome pagan fluence TstaDd ► much ire en- ) every fchfuUy cation lat the en«.~ Ic? influ- fe are rid to 'amily y are eal is en of )r his from fioul* tglow lence imon finally reaches other lands, separated by intervening oceans. It is thus that our world is silently being prepared for the dwelling-place of its King. Appearances may be against the progress of our race, but the purposes of redeeming love are steadily hastening on towards fulfilment. "The whole earth, shall yet be filled with the knowledge of the glory of Go d." o iting ayer " Z ion's Kiofi: shall reign yiotorious. All the earth shall own bis sway ; He will make his Kingdom glorious, * He shall reign through endless day. . Natioas now from God estranged Then shall see a glorious light ; Night to day shall then be changed, Heaven shall triumph in the sight." Among the m^^ny lessons taught us by this subject, are these: Let us ever be hopeful of the most insignificant christian enterprises, The apostolic church assembling in the upper room at Jerusalem was small ; — the Sabbath school enter- prise was insignificant in its first conception ; the missionary c&use a century ago, was but a name, compared with its present vast appliances and wide spread ramifications. But the power of God was in each and all, and hence their victory and permanence. Let us never be discouraged by the apparently slow growth of Christ's Kingdom in the world. We are impa- tient of results, forgetting the promise, ** I the Lord will hasten it in his time." We cannot understand the cause of delay in many instances, but we know that just as long winterSi that precede warm springs and golden sunmiers, are essential for the growth and maturing of the precious grain, so these long delays are necessary for the completion 86 THB 6B0WTH OF THE KINODOK. of God*8 designs, with the nations of the earth. In the exercise of faith and patience, all our expectations shall be more than reaUzed. Finally, let us ask ourselves the question, are we acting as leaven in the world ? "Ye are the salt of the earth — Ye are the light of the world." Every living soul possesses some influence for good or evil. We are centres, radiating from day to day, life or death to those around us. *' No man Hveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself. ' ' Grace in the heart, cannot remain inactive. It must have a field in which to operate. It will rest satisfied with nothing short of making conquest? for the Saviour. Let us not wait for grand occasions to speak and act, but seize the most in- significant events of hfe, for doing good to our fellow men. By the conscientious discharge of our christian obligations, we are helping forward the world, towards ultimate and final dehyerance from Bin and sorrow ! i. ■> «' In the shall be ■j.t. ve actinsr o earth — }ossesses adiating "No Grace e a field nothing not wait most in- >w men. gations, ate and ■Mje DUTY MEASURED BY ABILITY. *' She bath done what she could." — Mark xiv, v. 8. ** She hath done what she could.^^ Such was the eulogy pronounced by Christ on the woman of Bethany, who brake the box of precious ointment and poured it upon his head. Briefly but tersely it sets before us the true measure of Christian obhgation. Not what other profes- sing Christiana do- — nor what may satisfy the miserably low standard of duty and generosity which now proves current in the Church of Christ, but that each man in his own sphere of action, according to the mental and moral en- dowments conferred upon him by his Maker, and the op- portunites afforded him for their exercise, shall do what he can for the good of the world and the glory of God. If in all our churches, this was tlie standard of Christian en- deavour, Zion would no longer mourn, nor the walls of Jerusalem lie desolate. When the Saviour uttered the words he had a two-fold object in ^iew. On the one hand he desired to rebuke a parsimonious spirit that had crept in among the disciples, in virtue of which they regarded everything as so much 88 DUTY MEASURED BY ABILITY, wasted capital that did not directly produce sabstautial re suits, and on the othe? to hold up before them the example of this Christian woman, whose overflowing heart and burning love towards the Saviour, led her to give, not only the most valuable gift in her possession but her all to Christ. The event took place in Bethany, a place mem- orable and endeared to Christ for many reasons. Here as he sat at meat in the iiouse of Simon the leper, there came a womon — Mary the sister of Martha and Lazarus — having an alabaster box of ointment of Spikenard, " very precious,'' which she brake, or literally crushed together, pouring its contents upon the Saviour's head. Such a sudden and unlooked-for act, the act of a woman in straitened circumstances, and more likely to be an object of charity than the giver of such a costly present seemed surpassing strange in the eyes of the disciples. Some had indignation within themselves, while another gospel indi- cates that all the disciples shared more or less in the same opinion. Most probably the feeling of indignation rose first in the heart of Judas, but ultimately spread over the entire brotherhood, until a general feeling of dissatisfaction prevailed. "Why was this waste of ointment made ?" What good end or purpose can such destruction of precious ointment secure ? It might have been sold for three hun- dred pence, and the proceeds given to the poor ! And so they murmured against her ! The objections urged against such apparent extrava- gance seem at first sight well founded. But in another gospel the secret of the disciples' indignation is explained, and is referred to the covetuousness and avarice of Judas Iscariot who kept control of the treasury. ** This, he said, not that he cared for. the poor, but because he was a thie and had the bag, and bare what was put therein." * DUTY MEASURED BY ABILITY. 89 autial re- I example leart and not only ler all to ce mem- Here as 'er, there a>zarus — •d, " very together, Such a Oman in m object t seemed ome had pel indi- he same ion rose | over the Lsfactiou made?" precious •ee hun- And so xtrava- another plained, if Judas he said» a thie From this simple narrative we may learn certain truths as to the measure of Christian liberality. How much should I give for charitable objects ? fov the support of missions ? for the advancement of the church or denomina- tion ? What proportion of my time and means am I bound to give to the service of Christ ? In Jewish times, a tithe was demanded of every member of the Theocracy, but under the Christian dispensation the standard is higher — we are to do what we can. To be more explicit, our charity is not to be measured by the benevolence of others. Giving as others give, or in proportion as others give, is one of the most fatal errors of our day, but almost universal in certain churches. Just as some men measure their piety and devotion to re- ligion, by the piety of their neighbors, so do men measure their gifts to the church by the liberality of their fellow members. When the collector presents the subscription book, there is a careful scrutiny of the names and amounts already obtained, followed by such expressions as, "I can- not give more than Mr. so and so," or, "If he gives I will give." This miserable practice has become so common in the Christian world, that to secure contributions for the most praiseworthy enterprises, discreditable expedients 'are in many cases resorted to. Christians set up false stan- dards of duty and obligation and regulate their life by such standards to the exclusion of principle and God's higher law. In many cases they take as then' model men who are notorious for worldliness and grasping covetousness — men who give but seldom for any object and then be- grudgingly. Not only so, but they take the minimum of such men's offerings as the maximum of their own ! Such conduct is unworthy of Christian professors. There are men in every community possessed of thousands 90 DUTY MEASURED BY ABILITY. Upon thousands, from whom we should never ask or expect a charitable contribution, for the simple reason that they make no profession whatever of Christian principle. They live only for this world — they deny all the claims of the Church of Christ. They are not their brothers' keeper, either in temporal or spiritual affairs. No church member should be satisfied in making such men the model of a religious life, as no church member would dare to go be- fore the bar of God and say, ** I made these men my stan- dard in Chmtian practice.'' According to our individual endowments and possessions, we are at last to be judged, not by the generosity or parsimony of others. Our benevolence is not to be measured by the amount of our donations. An example of this truth is to be found recorded in the twelfth chapter of Mark's gospel, where a poor widow cast in two mites into the treasury. It seems to have been a sort of extraordinary voluntary collection, made at the faast of the Passover. Having finished his public instructions, Christ took his seat over against the treasury. Many that were rich cast in much. After a while there came a poor woman (whose humility and the smallness of her contribution' prevented her coming sooner) and cast in two mites, which make a farthing. It was done unostentatiously and with no thought that the act would be recognized. But as Christ saw the gift, small in itself, doubtless, contrasted with the larger offerings of the rich, and knew the motive that prompted to the act, he said to the disciples, '* Verily I say unto you, that this poor widow hath cast in more than all they which have cast into the treasury ; for all they did cast in of their abundance, but she of her want did cast in all she had, even all her Hving." It is very easy to understand why i DUTY MEASURED BY ABILITY, 91 the Saviour so highly commended her. She was a widow — a poor widow. No mention is made of her earthly sup- port. She depended for a Uving on the lahor of her hands, and seemed rather to need support and charity than give to others. Yet this poor widow cast in all she had. That which was originally intended for pressing wants she gave to the treasury of the temple. Not because of the amount, however, but because in proportion to her means she gave more than the richf who cast in their silver and gold, is her name mentioned and her example noted. They gave of their abundance, she of her poverty ; they gave what they never missed, she gave all her living. A man may give what seems Hberally for the cause of Christ, and yet give far less in proportion than the widow and her mites. A man of large capital subscribes five hundred dollars for church extension or missionary effort. His poor neighbour or workman, possessing no capital whatever, but Hving from day to day by the sweat of his brow, gives five dollars. Which gives most ? According to the judgment of the world it is the former. Five hun- dred dollars ! I The church is amazed and gratified beyond measure at such wondrous munificence! The religious papers hasten to spread the news of such unbounded Hb- erahty, and the man is canonised as a perfect saint I And yet,. according to the judgment of heaven, the poor man gives vastly more in proportion than his richer master. The one gave out of his abundance, the other out of his penury. To the one the gift was a matter of no conse- quence. It did not call for the practice of self-denial in the smallest degree ; but in the other case there was a sacrifice of some of the comforts of existence. 92 DUTY MEASURED BY ABILITY. ^' The conclusion we arrive at is, that the only standard recognized by the word of God for giving and working in the Church of Christ is ability. We are to give according to our means, and labor according to our opportunities. It is not the amount of our labor that is reckoned, but the fidelity and sincerity of our work, and the cheerfulness which prompts our gifts. The simple record, '* She hath done what she could," is better far than the adulations of our fellow men or the honors of the world. This principle, if rightly understood and practiced, would revolutionize the church and be a means of infinite blessing to the world. If church members did but reahze th^t they are accountable to the extent of their ability, how very different would the resources of every department of Chris- tian enterprise become I Men frequently, and it may be unconsciously, deceive themselves as to their ability. No excuse is oftener found upon the lips of Christians than, ** I am unfitted for the duty. I cannot discharge its obli- gations." What does Christ demand? Nothing but what you can give and that cheerfully. He does not expect you to exercise intellectual powers which have never been given or cultivated, but he demands that what you do possess be expended for his glory. Do what you can — **It is accepted according to what a man hath, and not according to what a man hath not." And so in regard to money offerings. If you can say in every instance, with a clear conscience, "I give according to my ability and as God hath prospered me," nothing beyond is re- quired. The contribution may be small — ^not more in a lifetime than the alabaster box of ointment — but it will be accepted for the spirit which prompts the giver. DUTY MEASURED BY ABILITY. 98 be No The most cheerful givers in all our churches are our poorer brethren. The give what they can and in the right spirit ; those who give least deny themselves the most. So it was said of the churches of Macedonia. Having first given themselves to the Lord, they gave up to and beyond their power. <* In a great trial of affliction, the abundance of their joy and their deep poverty abounded with the riches of their liberaUty." Surely, Christians of the pres- ent day, enjoying such priceless privileges under the gospel dispensation, are bound to exemplify the spirit of the ApostoHc age, and give generously for the extension of Christ's Kingdom, to which they owe so much. " Ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, that ye through his poverty might be rich. In our own day, the claims of the poor are often made an argument for withholding all acts of benevolence from every other object, presented to the sympathies of the Church of Christ. These claims of the poor upon the generosity of Christians are urged, not by men really inter- ested in their welfare, but by a class who seek credit for benevolence and charity, when in reality they are mammon seekers of the worst description. Why give for Foreign Missions, says one, or for Home Missions, says another? Why build churches, when, like our forefathers, we might worship under the canopy of heaven, or in ruder and more homely structures than the taste of the age demands, and take the money thus expended for the support of the poor in our several localities ? Why have so many Bible and Tract Societies spread over the land, depending for sup- port upon the Christian Church, when so many are desti- tute of the necessities of Hfe ? Such language springs 94 DUTY MEASUBBD BY ABILrEY. from pure selfishness, and to all such Christ replies as he did to the disciples who complained of the waste of oint- ment. "Let her alone — why trouble ye her ? She hath wrought a good work on me. Ye have the poor always with you, and whensoever Ye willt Ye may do ihem good; but me Ye have not always." " She hath done what she could,'* ** A good work." Not simply an act blameless and un- impeachable, but good in itself, because of the motive that prompted it. It had a xvorthy object. This valuable gift, which seemed in the eyes of Judas and the other disciples sinful extravagance, and might have been so in other cir- cumstances, was the offering of purest gratitude. It was well timedf for this was the Saviour's last visit to Bethany, and if this poor woman would show her love, she must do so now, or loose the opportunity for ever. ** Ye have the poor always with you, but me ye have not always," said Christ. In other words, charity and alms giving are com- mendable, but there are occasions every day for such acts of Christian benevolence, but the present is the only op- portunity tills woman has of testifying what she feels towards her Lord and Master. She hath done what she couldf or what she had she did — according to her means she freely gave. The outward act was but a feeble exponent of her inward feeUngs ; but it gave evidence that whatever she held dear upon earth, she was willing to sacrifice for Christ. She had been forgiven much and therefore she loved much. She had a grateful recollection for his past kindness. She felt herself indebted to Sovereign grace, more than tongue can describe, or the longest life of de- voted consecration repay. Thus it was, that she not only poured oat upon his head the precious ointment, but she DUTY MEABUBED BY ABILITY. broke the box in order to show that she was more than willing to sustain a loss. Her life — her all, was henceforth to be a willing sacrifice in Christ's service. In the words of the well-known hymn, we seem to hear her say — Oh to grace how great a debtor, Daily I'm constrained to be ? Let that grace, Lord, like a fetter. Bind my wandering heart to Thee ! Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love — Here* 8 my heart — Oh take and seal it ! Seal it for thy courts above. There is nothing wasted in the whole round of Christian sacrifice or labor. Even when our charity and benevolence have unconsciously been exercised towards unworthy ob- jects, there is more than compensation, in the growth of sympathy and tenderness within the soul, and when our Christian liberality has been expended upon worthy objects and enterprises, there is more than recompence in watch- ing the results of our humble efforts. Every Christian act is immortal. It may not instantly appear so, but it blooms and blossoms in future years, to the honor of the Master and the glory of His name. It was so in the present in- stance. This poor woman sacrificed her alabaster box and precious ointment, but she received Christ more richly in her soul. As she poured out her fragrant ointment upon Him who was so soon to shed His most precious blood for her, she increased her interest in heaven, and her claim to immortal treasures. Nor did the action perish with the occasion. Verily I say unto you, says Christ, wheresoever this gospel is preached throughout the whole world, this that she hath done shall be spoken of for a memorial of her." Her example is thus held up for imitation in all time coming. Her name is embalmed in the volume of 96 DUTY MEASURED BY ABILITY. inspiration, whilst illustrious heroes, according to the judgment of the world are long forgotten. Thus hath God chosen the foolish things of this world to confound the wise, and the weak to confound the mighty. The Lord Jesus Christ still sits over against the treasury of the Church. As its King and Head, he claims a pro- portion of every man's substance. He is cognisant of the motives, and knows every separate contribution that is given for the extension of his Kingdom upon earth. Character can be as truly weighed in the balance of the sanctuary by the hberality of our offerings as by the most rigid attendance upon ordinances. In the present exis- tence we may withhold what is due from us, and still en- joy a reputation for benevolence, but the day of judgment will disclose such dishonesty, along with every other de- falcation of the life. Such a realising sense of omnis- cience, who scans our every act should produce conscien- tious giving and unconstrained service. *' Will a man rob God? says the Prophet Malacbi. Yea ye have robbed me . Ye are cursed with a curse, for ye have robbed me, even this whole nation. Bring ye all the tithes into the store- house ftnd prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of Hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room to re- ceive it." I FIDELITY IN LITTLE THINGS. "He that isfaithftd in that which is least, is faithfnl also in mnch ; and he that is unjust in the least, is unjust also in much. — Luke zvi, v. 10. The constancy of nature depends upon its harmonious working, in the smallest as well as the grandest details. Let there he hut for a moment, suspension of the law of gravitation, and the myriads of suns and systems that revolve in space, together with the glohe on which we stand, would rush into chaos. It is as necessary *^that a grain of sand should he as ohedient as a world." The same law holds good in morals and religious ohhgations. That same God who impressed upon nature what we call law, has given to his rational creatures a code of duties, in which men are hound to discharge the smallest ohhgations as much as the greatest service. Christianity teaches that true ohedience is demanded in every particular, and that no man dare wilfully shrink from the performance of duty, be it ever so trifling or insignificant, or wilfully commit any sin, however small it may appear. Character and con- duct in God's sight are composed of minute details, not of splendid and striking displays of justice, honesty and ben- evolence, which may occasionally startle the world and atone for gross and aggravated acts of wrong-doing. No matter 98 FIDELITY IN LITTLE THINGS. what our position in life, if we faithfully discharge our obhgations to God and man, the favor of heaven is ours in the present, and the rewards of the righteous shall be ours in the future. Fidehty, truthfulness, adherence to principle are the tests of christian character. These should pervade our entire being, not only when fidelity is certain to secure for us certain benefits and blessings, but when it is certain to expose us to worldly loss. We must apply this higher law to the least tilings in hfe, and be actuated in every condition and circumstance of life by a sense of the perfection of God's law. We do not assert that "little things" are as important, as comprehensive and lasting in their influence as great things, or that we are to regard all duties and obligations as of equal magnitude. But what we assert is that if a man systematically neglects the lesser obligations of conscience, he will at the same time be found guilty of violating the greater and more solemn demands of morality and religion. When a man begins to think and say, " This is but a trifling sin — I may with per- fect impunity indulge in it "; or, "this is but a small in- fraction of the law of honesty — I may without fear of dis- covery or punishment venture on it ;" — there is a loosen- ing of the entire moral structure — the beginnmg of that downward career, which, but for divine grace, ends in the eternal ruin of both body and soul. A few considerations will show the truth of this remark. r . . r Infidelity in little things deteriorates and debauches the conscience. I am not speaking of the outward results of a course of dishonesty and wrong-doing"; I am supposing that a man may secretly violate the principles of justice, truth and rectitude without ever being called to answer for his crimes at a huQian tribunal. The internal loss that a man FIDELITY IN LITTLE THINGS. 99 suffers is, however, infinitely greater than pubUc disgrace. Men for the most part do not think so. They judge of the morahty of the right and the wrong of actions by their re- sults. Success even in what is wrong is regarded as mak- ing such conduct right ; an idea utterly subversive of aU morahty. There are many lines of conduct that appepj indifferent — neither good nor bad — that are all the while « sapping the foundations of conscience. Every action that a man performs has not only a bearing upon society, but has a recoil upon his own moral constitution. In every duty discharged and in every word spoken we are to consider not only what shall be its effects upon our fellow men and society at large, but what shall be its effects upon our own moral natm'e — upon our feehngs — our judgment and our whole subsequent career. For, supposing that the omission of the lesser duties of life and indulgence in lesser sins common to a large number of men, should have no influence what- ever upon the world ot large, the power and evil influence which they must exercise upon the actor and agent should be enough to deter us from pm'suing such a course of con- duct. A long series of petty meannesses — the contmued omission of any one duty — systematic treachery and fraud, although not coming witliin the reach of law ; little false- hoods that men are shocked to have called by the name of *'Ues;" these and a thousand minor delinquencies which may never appear to act beyond the Hmits of the individual, debauch the inner hfe, degrade manhood and eventually obliterate all distinctions between good and evil. Con- science, which may be able to resist great temptations and remonstrate against open acts of immorality, falls pros- trate before such minute and insidious infidelities. Taken separately, they seem trifling, unimportant, but in their collective capacity they are omnipotent for evil. The effect 100 FIDELITY IN LITTLE THINGS. in any one case may be small, but the sum total is great. A ^gle drop of water is but a tiny agent in the material world, but the constant falling of such drops will wear away the hardest rock ; the moth is but a little insect yet it eats the finest texture ; the coral insect is among the smallest of ocean's inhabitants, but myriads of corals at work for centuries, construct coral islands of vast proportions and terrible significance to the mariner. So, in like manner the man who is habitually unjust and unfaithful in the lesser duties and obligations of life, becomes at last indififercnt to the higher demands of God's law. The moral sense is perverted, deadened, and rendered totally unreKable and untrustworthy as a guide in the commonest transactions of life. Fidelity in little things furnishes a surer test of character than in greater. It is comparatively easy for a man to be faithful, when placed in a prominent position, receiving the commendation of his fellows and supported by other tan- gible considerations. Even this, apart from thorough purity of motive, will not prevent unfaithfulness, but it often assists a man, not otherwise proof against tempta- tion. But when our actions are unknown to the world, and when we work on from day to day and year to year, honestly endeavoring according to the measure of our ability to discharge our varied obHgations, and resolutely refusing all inducements to increase our personal gains, by means considered quite fair and honorable among worldly men, such conduct is the very essence of true heroism. We live in an age when it is of prime importance that this truth should be impressed upon society. No man is considered great or valuable nowadays, unless he has oc- cupied soms commanding position, and created an excite- FIDELITY IN LITTLE THINGS. 101 ment in the community or nation. Notoriety, ostentation and display, are estimated as cardinal virtues. The young are taught that unless they do something striking and sin- gular, they are useless ; mere ciphers and nonenities in society. The common duties of life are despised. The smaller obligations are left unfulfilled. However honest and upright a man may be in his calling, he is hut hghtly esteemed unless he can do something to astonish the world. All this has a tendency to make men despise humble voca- tions, and create a spirit of dissatisfaction with the ordinary business of life. No man is fitted for public positions where great and weighty questions are to be solved, who has not in the more hmited arena of his own private affairs, exhibited strict adherence to the law^s of probity. There is no honest calling in life ignoble. It is the way in which a man carries himself and acquits himself that makes his business honorable or dishonorable. Every position in^hfe is responsible and grand, because it tests our fidelity to principle, our loyalty to conscience and our independence of accidental cii'cumstances. To be forever looking away from the ordinary transactions of nfe — from common voca- tions and duties — to be continually imagining that we are born with power and faculties, adapted to fiU the highest situations and wear the greatest honors, is evidence of un- fitness for the humblest stations. The man who cannot overcome the difficulties and temptations of the present hour — who cannot succeed in the store or at the desk, was never intended by his maker to rule over kingdoms. Dog- ged perseverance, assiduity and faithful discharge of the BmaU and common-place demands of life, is the true path to dignity and honor. The really noble-minded men of the world are those who from obscurity, have by strict fidehty, risen to eminence ; not by strokes of fortune — not by sud- 102 FIDELITY IN LITTLE TmNGS. den revolutions in society — not by unregulated and fitful efforts, but by steady and persevering toil. Our merchant princes for the most part were message boys and appren- tices to the most laborious trades. Our chancellors and statesmen and jurists, gave proof of their ability and in- tegrity in the lower and less distinguished .'departments of professional life, before being promoted to the judicial bench. The true heroes of the world — men who for prin- ciple have endured calumny and reproach — have overcome the assaults of Satan a thousand times before in the more secret domain of their passions and pride. Injidelitif in little tJiifi()s, is not only as criminal as in great tJiings, but it prepares the way for the most flagrant and open wickedness. The man who steals a penny is as much a thief as the man who steals thousands of dollars ; the smallness of the amount makes no difference whatever. To abstract large sums of money and defraud the Government or revenues of the country, may in the eyes of the commu- nity be deemed a much more aggravated offence, but the effect upon conscience and the judgment formed of the guilt of these respective acts of wickedness is the same. A man may not better himself much, it is true, by a petty theft, but his moral sense suffers as much deterioration as if it had been a great one. This is scarcely ever taken into account by men in daily hfe. We speak of members of Parliament and municipal corporations, swindling the country and commonwealth of milUons, and we raise the cry of corruption and extravagance, and m our holy in- dignation at such monstrous dishonesties, we put forth strenuous efforts to bring about a change ; and yet in pri- vate business transactions, men are daily as guilty and reprehensible. Give such men the chance of pilfering ia I FIDELITY IN LITTLE THINGS. 103 high places and helping themselves to the spoils of oflBce, and they would he found formidable rivals to the men whose actions they condemn. If not faithful in the smaller obhgations of Ufe, how can a man be trustworthy in the halls of legislation, and in the performance of the more re- sponsible offices connected with representative Govern- ment ? , Men seem to think it is a very heinous offence to per- jure themselves, but scarcely a sin at all to equivocate and lie ; a very wicked thing to commit a forgery, but a small offence to cheat a customer by misrepresentation and de- ceit ! You would not for the world engage in the unlaw- ful trade of counterfeiting, but if a counterfeit bill should come into your possession in the ordinary course of trade, it is cast back into the drawer, in the hope that it may be passed along to some unsuspecting neighbor ! You knoiv that it is worthless^ but you try to pacify conscience by say- ing ''somebody has passed it upon me, and I cannot be a loser." The man who acts thus is a counterfeiter in the sight of God ; the passing of that single bill, is as great an offence in the sight of the Almighty, as if he had deluged the whole country with spurious coin. Far better in such circumstances, for a man to lose his money than lose con- science and integrity. It has already been remarked that every petty wicked- ness affects the conscience — destroys the perception of right and wrong and endangers our highest well-being. Once a course of wrong-doing is begun, there is no limit to a man's avarice and passion. The question of degrees in crime is never considered once the heart has been defiled by impurity. It is not the great sins of which a man 104 FIDELiry IN LITTLE THINGS. should be a&aid, but the Uttle sins that appear so trifling and unimportant. It is not the omission of great duties that is dangerous, but the neglect of Httle obligations; a wilful and steady ignoring of the minute claims and res- ponsibihties that confront us every hour. If these are disregarded, a reckless habit is cultivated — a moral indif- ference to the sanctions and requiremeits of law, which paves the way for every form of iniquity. The most ter- rible inhumanities that shock society, have sprung from small and trifling misdemeanors. Criminals and malefac- tors who die on the scaffold, drunkards and debauchees who fall into untimely graves ; highway robbers and swindlers who crowd our penitentiaries, are all notable examples of the fact that a path of wickedness once entered upon, hur- ries its victim to the very brink of perdition. But perhaps you can point to men guilty of minor sins, but never chargeable with greater crimes. The compara- tive honesty of such men does not proceed from principle, but from want of power, or certain other considerations that constrain them to keep within the bounds of law. The man who does not adhere to principle in small trans- actions, will, when opportunity offers, launch out into the boldest vices. What is your opinion of the man who de- ceives in small matters ? If there is certain evidence of intention to defraud, you instantly withdraw confidence. You say, "that man only lacks the occasion to rob to the greatest amount." Fear of punishment, selfish considera- tions, or the opinion of society, may for a time prevent the legitimate workings of a dishonest nature, but not for any lengthened period. For such a man you have the utmost detestation; you despise him "more than the princely scoundrel who riots in defalcation at the rate of a hundred I FIDELITY IN LITTLE THINGS. 105 thousand dollars a stroke." The latter you denounce as a villain, hut at the same time you recognize the splendor of his audacity and the magnificence of his plans and achieve- ments. He is unquestionably bad ; hut the other is not only had, but mean. ** He goes as far as he dares to go, and is as bad as the man who dares to go further and did go." Some men take credit for keeping clear of ncesand crooked policies that stain the character of their compan- ions, when in fact, it is lack of opportunity, or the absence of great temptation that keeps them where they are. " I have never," says such a man, "committed theft, or broken any of the more prominent commandments of the deca- logue." What does that prove ? Nothing whatever in itself as to your character. The question is were you ever so tempted and so situated, where the opportunities for embezzlement were many and the chances of detection were few ? No praise is due the man whose lot has been cast in circum- stances where to commit flagrant crimes was an impossibil- ity, but if that same man has yielded to dishonesty in Httle things, and been unfaithful to the trust reposed in him, he is just as guilty in the sight of heaven, as if he had broken tha entire decalogue I There is no such thing in ordinary circumstances as vaulting into greatness. Birth and fortune do confer arti- ficial distinctions upon some men, but for the most part rather dwarf than inspire noble aspirations after lasting fame. "What is so often said about the power of genius is sheer nonsense. Genius in its highest form must pursue certain well-known laws, before the goal is reached. It is by steady industry from moment to moment and hour to hour, that years of labor tell upon a man's life. Of itself a 106 FIDELITY IN LITTLE THINGS. moment is a little thiiig, but as related to the individual, it may hold eternity within its grasp. The whole of the future Ufe hinges upon the actions of the present ; its con- sequences reach far beyond the gaze of mortals, and he who is prodigal of moments or fills up these moments with idle gossip or demoralizing vices, fills the bitter cup of future misery and shortens his already too brief span of existence. Nor is there any calling beneath a man's serious regard. The lowest is as necessary as the highest, and in some cases demands a larger measure of fidelity. The switchman upon a railway track, occupies but a humble position, and yet next to the engineer, what situation is more responsible or requii'es greater watchfulness ? The same holds true in every department of labor. This being the case, it is wrong for any man to complain of his calling in life. By all fair means try to improve your position — strive to rise in the scale of intelligence and moral influence, but do not go through the world, complaining and dissatisfied, as if Providence had made a fatal mistake in allotting you a vocation disproportioned to your ability and genius. Do not despise your calling, nor waste precious moments in vain regrets over a matter which is very much in your own hands. Even should you never rise above the humblest occupation, the diligence with which you follow it and the dignity you confer upon it, will more than compensate for the tinsel honors that men sigh for, in more exalted but less useful callings. It will generally be found that the mal-contents of society are men who deserved no promo- tion; who have not been found faithful in the humbler occupations of Ufe and for that reason have never been called to a higher place. Men rise upon present perform- ances, not upon promises of future achievements. The man who has not honestly discharged the duties of the humble callinj is the 8houl( Thee capab Iti of th( accou in lif( occuj — ati er lal You: faithf as thi speec and s spok( conc€ than boar( unde your knov dutie plan and ♦*To Inal Infi< Beyo ltd] FIDELITY IN LITTLE THINGS. 107 calling, instead of finding a higher, deserves a lower. It is the declaration alike of Scripture and reason that man should first occupy the lowest seat and then go up higher. The call will come just as soon as he has proved himself capable in the lower sphere. It is not after all the place that we fill nor the greatness of the influence thalf we wield that should be taken into account. "What is the motive inspiring us to act our part in life, is a question of more importance I Not what is my occupation, but how do I prosecute it I am I a man pleaser — a time-server — an eye-worker, or am I conscientiouri wheth- er laboring alone, or under the inspection of a superior ? You may possess but a single talent, but if that talent is faithfully exercised and improved, your reward is as great as the possessor of ten. You may not have the gift of speech in such measure as to electrify delighted audiences, and sway the passions of your fellow men, but a kind word spoken from a loving heart, exerts an influence beyond conception, and secures for you the approbation of a greater than man. Sew every seam — drive every nail — plane every board — scatter every seed — dig every spadeful of earth as under the inspection of the Omniscient eye. Eealize that your work has been allotted you by a wise Providence, who knows your peculiar aptitudes and capabilities. Your duties are important ia the carrying out of His gracious plans as much as for the education of your own intellectual and moral powers. As the poet beautifully says : •• To every form of being is assigned * * * an active principle, In all things, in all natures, in the stars of azure heaven, the un- enduring clouds In flower and tree and pebbly stone that paves the brooks are properties that spread, Beyond itself, communicating good ; from link to link It circulates the soul of all the world." 108 FIDELITY IN LITTLE THINOS. Thus eve]7 post is a post of honor to him who makes conscience his guide. The soldier on guard as sentinel, is just as usefully employed as in the ranks upon the battle field face to face with the enemy. In digging the trenches, in kindling the camp fires — in throwing up fortifications — in reconnoitreing the woods, or in tending the wounded and the dying, he is engaged in service indispensable to victory and equally worthy of commendation and reward. In creation and providence there are no little things. In the small and tiny creatures of a day's existence, in the meanest flower that grows in the garden, there are proofs of God's infinite wisdom as numerous and as manifest as in the most glorious of His works. Men take the telescope and sweeping along the heavens discover fields of stars — worlds and systems of worlds, that seem but fine dust to the eye of man. Feeling oppressed with a sense of the majesty of the Eternal, they exclaim, ** How excellent is thy name in all the earth ! who has set thy glory above the heavens." But the microscope reveals as marvellous won- ders in the embroidered wing of the butterfly, or the variegated hues of the violet and the daisy. In these "little things," as much as in the greater, the Creator's power and wisdom have been expended, and in the preservation of the lowest of his creatures his goodness is daily seen. If so, why should any man despise his allotted duties, or re- fuse to prosecute with untiring zeal the employments of the hour ? Longfellow, in one of his sweet poems, tells of an honest village blacksmith who firom " morn till night" ** week in and week out," swung his hammer and blew his bellows for the profit and delight of the school children who gathered round the open door. From his patience and contentment he reads us a valuable lesson : FIDBUTT IN LITTLE THIMOS. 109 bo makes intiuel, is he battle trenches, cations — mded and to victory e things. 36, in ihe re proofs inifest as telescope f stars — e dust to le of the ent is thy bbove the ous won- , or the se "little )wer and nation of jeen. If s, or re- nents of , tells of I night" blew his Iren who nee and ** His hair is orisp, and blaok and long, HiB face is like the tan, His brow is wet with honest sweat. He earns whate'er he can ; And looks the whole world in the faoe, For he owes not any man. " Toiling — rejoicing — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes, Each morning sees some task begnn, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. " Thanks, thanks, to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thon hast taught, Thus at the flaming forge of life Our fortunes must be wr .ght I Thus on its sounding anyil-shaped Each burning deed and thought.*' li PEKFECT PEACE. *• Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee." — Isaiah xxvi, 3. ' The chapter from which the text is talien is a song of praise, supposed to be sung by the Jews on their return from captivity. Their hearts are full of gratitude to God for his goodness in restoring them to their beloved land and the privileges of Mount Zion. " In that day, **says the Prophet," shall this song be sung in the land of Judah : We have a strong city ; Salvation will God appoint for walls and bulwarks." Jerusalem was considered impregnable to the fiercest attacks of the enemy, but the time was coming when Jehovah, more than ever, would be its guardian and defender. Violence would then no more be heard within the land, nor wasting and destruction within its borders. The Jews emancipated from Babylon are now returning in joy to the capital, and the Prophet commands that the gates may be thrown open for the entrance of the triumphal procession. ** Open ye the gates, that the righteous na- tion, which keepeth the truth, may enter in ;" and then foUow the words for our present meditation, **Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace (peace, peace, as itis in the original) whose mind is stayed on thee," — who confides in the God of Jacob and is supported by his Omnipotent arm. The PERFECT PEACE. Ill stayed on I song of ir return e to God ved land ''says the iah: We 'or walls jnable to 3 coming lian and d within borders, rning in that the iumphal eous na- md then hou wilt original) the God n. The text evidently has a wider application than to Jerusalem and the Jews. Gospel times are included, and that happy period spoken of in another part of the Prophecy, when the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads, when they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shaU flee away. All God's gifts are perfect, like his own nature. If they are not enjoyed in all their fulness and perfection, the cause lies in the creature, and not in the Creator. The 3im always shines, though frequently his splendor is obscured by passing clouds. The water, pure and sparkling at the fountain-head, becomes polluted, as it flows through muddy channels. The likeness, at first faithful and striking, may become effaced and scarred, so as to hide the well-known features. So it is with God's gifts to his fallen creatures. In contact with sinful man they lose their freshness and satisfying power. Hence there is no grace experienced in perfection here, neither peace, nor joy, nor hope, nor patience. At best we but approximate the sinless, happy life of the redeemed in heaven. The believer is like to the traveller standing on some Alpine height, peaceful it may be v\dthin himself, but yet within hearing of the echoes from beneath. Although his peace is of the same nature as that which shall be enjoyed m heaven, it cannot produce such exultant joy, as when the soul is set free from the distractions of sense and sin. Apart from a living Christianity, moulding and regu- lating the powers and affections of the soul, there is no real peace possible. There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked, nor can there be as long as man and God stand in antagonism. Humanity in the aggregate is like the 112 PERFECT PEACE. troubled ocean. Deep within responds to deep withont. The soul of man is the battle-ground of fierce and contend- ing passions. Nay, the very elements of nature are in conflict. The creatures who inhabit the air and sea and earth are in constant warfare. Society heaves with revo- lutions and insurrections. ** Oh, it is a troubled scene ! a very sea of troubles which cannot rest, is this visible and sensible world, from the utmost bounds of visions' ken (for the stars themselves are some of them discerned to be in conflagration) to the profoundest deeps of human con- sciousness, where dwell nothing but broken images of beauty and wild notes of disturbed harmony, and ghastly spectres of departed blessedness, which have in them some witness of a peaceful world which has been lost, and some indistmct promise of a peaceful world to be restored." To secure some measure oi peace, men in all ages have labored earnestly. No means have been left untried, but all endeavors have been fruitless apart from the gospel which pardons guilty man. The great object of Christ's advent was to introduce peace. The angels sang of Him» as a Saviour whoso mission was one of peace — a peace to be purchased by his death upon the Cross. Among the many appellations ascribed to God in the Apostolic writings, the " God of peace" occurs most frequently of all. Paul, in closing his letters to the early churches frequently prays that "grace and peace" from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, may be upon them all, and Christ himself makes over to his disciples this same peace spoken of in the text. "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you. Not as the world giveth, give I unto you. These things have I spoken unto you that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation, but be not afraid I have overcome the world." PEBFECT PEACE. 118 ithont. mtend- are in ea and L revo- ene t a le and 3n (for ) be in Q con- ges of hastly \i some . some 3 have d, but gospel Ihrist's ■ Him, }ace to ag the itings, Paul, prays 3 Lord iimself I of in ) unto things peace, raid I What is the nature of this peace spoken of in the text ? It is called perfect peace. Elsewhere '* the peace of God which passeth all understanding," implying that it is divine in its origin. It is the same kind of peace which he himself enjoys, and imparts to his children by the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. Sometimes it is called the peace of God and at other times the gift of Christ, inasmuch as it comes to us through the atonement of Calvary, whereby Christ made reconciliation between God and man. ♦' He is our peace, who hath made both one, arid now in Christ Jesus, we who were sometime afar off, are made nigh, by the blood of Christ." It is a new principle infused into the beUever's soul, which harmonizes and regulates all his inner nature ; it gives the power of self-conquest and restraint — of subju- gation and victory over earth-born passions and unholy as- pirations. It is constant; not fitful or spasmodic, but perennial. Like our atmosphere which girdles the globe, so this peace pervades all the secret recesses of the soul. It is peace upon peace, like the waves of the sea, following each other without intermission or cessation. In times of momentary fear, this peace of God becomes a refuge where the Christian always finds security and rest. And it is last- ing — permanent^ up to the hour of death. It not only ac- companies the believer through the manifold changes and trials of life, but it calms his spirit in the hour of dissolu- tion. Well may the Apostle say that this pea.ce passeth understanding. Mind cannot conceive its unspeakable blessedness, nor tongue of man describe it. It is Uke the love of Christ which passeth knowledge. "Like the still- ness of the caverns in the depths of the sea, where the mariner's bones lie undisturbed — where pearls are born and corals that never see the light ; where the long lost gold and silver of the merchants lie sprinkled on the sandy floor ; 114 PERFECT PEACE. down in the rock caves and the silent palaces of darkness where waves dash not, and the intruding foot of the diver never hath trodden ; so clear, so calm is the peace of God— the placid rest of the hehever. Like the quietnesss of the silent stars, like the noiseless highway of those noiseless orhs, that sleep upon their golden couches, or only open their bright eyes to keep watch upon that stormless sea of ether, and guard the solemn boundaries of the realm of peace, such is the peace and calm that reigns in the Chris- tian's bosom." As the poet beautifully paraphrases the words of our text : ' It const theP looks as ye upon gives is not plicit everj arise " Quiet as a peaceful river, . . Quiet aR the wmd-hushed fioas ; In Jehovah trusting ever, ■^■ We are kept in perfect peace. . ' I'll not ask Thee what Thou doest, Whatsoe'er it be, 'tis right, Thou, our friend, of friends the truest, Wilt sustain 'midst storm and night. Deep beneath the warring ocean, Dfiop beneath the howling flood; All unmoved by the commotion. Lie the promises of God. Wo are anchored firmly to them, Though in tatters hang our shroud's ; Calmly we look up, and through them, View the thunder-riven clouds. This is not mental indolence. It is not mactivity or stag- nation of mind. It iR not a peace arising from selfish gratification. It is not the peace of the sensualist who drowns to-morrow's cares, in present riot ; nor is it cessa- tion from the labors and anxieties of life, but it is the har- monious working of all our powers, fitting alike for the right discharge of duty in the world, and for progress in the di- vine life. It is attained, as the text tells us, by having the mind stayed upon God; implying fixedness — repose — a PERFECT PEACE. 116 arkness le diver fGod— of the oiseless y open sea of ealm of Chris- ses the r stag- selfish 3t who cessa- le har- e right he di- ng the )se — a constant looking towards God. '* My heart is fixed," says the Psalmist. As the astronomer, with unwearied patience looks out on the horizon with his telescope, for some star as yet undiscovered, so does the believmg soul stay itself upon almighty love. The man who thus trusts in God, gives himself up entirely to the guidance of his Saviour. It is not mere faith^ but the out-growth of faith. There is im- plicit confidence in a presiding Providence, who knows our every want and has promised to satisfy these wants as they arise. Thus this perfect peace produces unqualified sub- mission and resignation to tho will of heaven, under dark and mysterious dispensations, which cannot be solved by human reason. Trusting in the promise, that "all things work together for good to them that love God," the soul can rest unconcernedly in all the appointments of heaven, as the voyager upon the ocean sleeps fearlessly, under the protec- tion and guidance of tried and trusty mariners. This peace keeps the heart, " Thou wilt keep him in perfe«t peace." The peace of God, says the Apostle, slmll keep your hearts and nmids. The idea is that of perfect security. As in a strong fortress, there is safety from danger, so tliis peace of God '* garrisons " the heart of tho believer, and makes him altogether independent of human assistance. The Bible is fuU of such language. " The Lord is thy keeper." *' He that keepeth thee will not slum- ber.*' "Behold I am with thee, and will keep thee in all pk'^es, whither thou goest." " He shall give his angels charge over thee, to koop thee in all thy ways." '* Holy father, keep through thine own nnnie, those whom thou hast given me." There is something exceedingly tender and comforting in the very language. It comes home to the heart of every one, who has any experience whatever of the weakness of human nature. It implies watchfulness — 116 PERFECT PEACE. vigilance — ^perfect immunity from sudden evil, just such in^ cessant care, as the mother exercises over her helpless child by day and by night. In every change of earthly condition and in every reverse of fortune, the heart is sustained and comforted by the presence of Jehovah. Neither fears nor cares can wound the heart, where dwells the peace of God. Without such a promise, the life of the believer upon earth would frequently be sad indeed. For nowhere is there the promise of exemption from common or special calamities which are the lot of God's children, beyond that of other men. Many men indeed enjoy great external prosperity, while destitute of inward peace. But the Chris- tian called to endure affliction, in his own person and in his family, is sustained and rendered heroic by this divine grace. Beneath the waves and billows of affliction, which distress the outer life, the heart, remains calm and tranquil in the enjoyment of God's favor. Happiness depends very much upon outward ch^cumstances, and is variable and changeable. True peace rests on the unchanging love of God, which is imperishable and unvarying. **Happinness is like the rainbow, with many colors, beautiful and bril- liant ; its magnificent arch appears to be firmly based upon the everlasting hills and able to support the sky. Its form and beauty triumph for a time over the hurricane, while it reposes in peace upon the bosom of the dark thundercloud. Yet in a moment it vanishes. But Divine peace is like the sun, which hidden it may be by the cloud and storm, is nevertheless reposing behind them all in the serene heavens, and comes forth at last when the rainbow has passed away, to shine on, filling the world with hght and life." There are other kinds of peace in our world, but all are merely temporary and unreliable, save the peace which Gocl 1 PBRSBOT P8AQB. 117 suoh in- S8 child mdition ed and ars nor of God. Jr upon here is special id that sternal Chris- 1 in his divine which •anquil Is very and ove of •inness i bril- 1 upon i form bile it cloud, kethe rm, is ivens, iway, 1 are bestows upon the pardoned soul. There is a false peaoe^ that gives present, momentary relief from life's burdens, — there may be moral insensibility, a deadness of conscience, and reckless indifference to the future ; but it is only for a short season that such a state of things can last. After- wards there follows inconceivable agony and mental torture in another and an unchanging state of existence beyond the grave. Satan whispers *< peace, peace," when there is, and can be no peace to the wicked. Frequently indeed, men, when drawing near the close of Hfe, find when too late, that they have been resting upon such occasional experiences as grounds of hope ; instead of that peace which flows to guilty man from the cross of Christ. Then they realize, that there is nothing that can stand the test of affliction, or give strength and consolation to the despairing soul, or help the sinner to grapple successfully with the King of Terrors, but the peace of God which passeth understanding — that perfect peace, which keeps the heart of the man who is stayed upon God. Now the first and most important of all questions, that every one should endeavour inteilligently and honestly to answer is. Do I possess this Divine peace? and back of this there is the other question. Have I come to the blood of sprink- ling ? Has there been the appUcation to my soul, by the Holy Spkit, of those heavenly influences, which accom- pany true conversion ? Am I at peace with God and man ? Am I still under the power of an accusing conscience, or have I the assurance that reconciled to God, I am hence- forth free from those fears and terrors that haunt the guilty and unsaved 7 It is good to find peace in the hour of death, but it is better far to have it in the time of health. To possess a mind composed and trt^quil in every emergency; 118 PBBFEOT FBAOB. to lean upon an unseen arm when all human support fails us ; to rest in God when the world becomes tasteless and insipid; to anchor the soul within the veil, when storms and tempests rage around and beat upon our frail earthly taber- nacle — is the most blessed of all experiences on this side the grave. Such a peace indeed, the world cannot give and cannot take away. Like a day of clear sunshine and balmy zephyrs, after a dreary night of storm and tempest — the heavens dark and the stars invisible — while the forked and fiery lightnings flashed hither and thither to the music of successive thunder-peals, so is the peace of God to the ter- ror-stricken soul. As soon as the soul finds Christ, the passions are hushed to silence. That voice that spake into silence the stormy sea of Galilee, can alone bring peace and comfort to anxious, weary souls. I freely grant you, that this peace of God in its most per- fect form, is notaU at once enjoyed by many of God's saints. Years have to elapse before their minds are filled with hope and joy in believing. And many diverse agencies are frequently employed, to bring the soul to rest impUcitly upon the rock of ages, without misgivings and distrust. But sooner or later in every case the promise of the text is veri- fied. It matters not indeed how such a blessed peace is reached — whether by painful discipline — ^bodily affliction — unexpected reverses and misfortunes, or severe bereave- ments. The return of health to the languid body, is often preceded by painful convulsions and excruciating agony. So oftentimes God produces this inner peace and implicit confidence in his dealings with individual souls, by weary days and years of bitter disappointment. - • ^ PBBFECT PEACE. 119 "By the thorn road and nono other Is the Mount of Vision won. Tread it without shrinking, Brother, Jesus trod it — pass thou on !" There are some here who know nothing of this peace. The inner disquiet and agitation reveals itself in their very countenances. To them the Sabbath is but a lull between the agitated and feverish excitement of one week and another ; not the precursor and sweet harbinger of eternal peace in Heaven. Explain your anxieties and troubles and restless moments as you may, it all comes directly or indi- rectly from the unsatisfactory relations that exist between you and God. Until you are at peace with him, you cannot enjoy peace in any condition of Ufe. All earthly substitutes for divine peace are worthless. "Acquaint now thyself with him and be at peace, thereby good shall come unto thee." It is because man has voluntarily divorced himself from God that there is so little true happiness and contentment in the world. Peace cannot be enjoyed so long as he re- mains alienated from liis maker. The great design of God in the gift of Christ was to end this state of enmity and alienation and reconcile earth and heaven. Everything has been done on the part of the Almighty, that guilty man may enjoy true peace and all other blessings which ac- company a sense of pardon. I ye weary, restless, guilty souls — nervous and miserable while living and terrified at the thought of dying, return to the only source of lasting peace. The door of mercy is open, the hand of mercy is outstretched, the voice of welcome is in your ears. Make the covenant of peace with your Maker notv. The inter- cessor stands ready to plead your cause. God is willing to accept his plea on your behalf. •* Kiss the son, lest he be angry and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is kin- 120 PfiBFEOT raACE. died but a little. Blessed are they that put their trust in him." And now, may '* the God of peace, that brought again from the dead Our Lord Jesus Christ, that Great Shepherd of the sheep, through the blood of the everlasting covenant, make you perfeot in every good work to do his will, working in you, that which is well-pleasing in His sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen." trust in brought bt Great rlasting do his in His ver and ,i .. 1- CHRISTIAN JOY. '*Tben be said nnto them, ga your way, cat the fat, and drink the Bweet, and send portions unto them for v^hom nothing is pre- pared : for this day is holy unto our Lord : neither be vp sorry: for the joy of the Lord is your strength." — Nehemiah, 8, v. 10. It is very difficult for us to realize the feelings of the Jews, when these words were addressed them. Indeed it seems at first sight entirely out of keeping with the cir- cumstances in which they were placed, to enjoin them to refrain from tears, to banish every element of sorrow, to forget the past, and indulge in joy and gladness. Al- though once more settled in Jerusalem, the scenes and associations of former days, which crowded upon the memory, were more powerful to produce sadness, than then- present blessings were calculated to cause unmingled joy. As when they sat by the rivers of Babylon they felt unable to sing the Lord's song, so now restored to Jeru- salem, the songs of Zion could only be sung in the minor key : — unlike former days, when the great congregation in tones of triumph and with a sound like the rushing of many waters, lifted up then* voices in gratitude and praise. A few sentences of history are necessary to place us in accord with the condition of the Jews, when these words 122 CHRISTUN JOY. were spoken. The seventy years' captivity T76re now ended. Cyrus, many years before, prompted by the Most High, had given forth his proclamation, permitting them to return and rebuild the desolations of Mount Zion and the Holy place. In obedience to this proclamation and doubtless in accordance with the natural desires of their heart, Zerub- babel, accompanied by the chiefs of the fathers of Judah and the Priests and Levitcs, went up to Jerusalem and began the work. The envy and hatred of the Samaritans soon brought operations to a close, and for twenty years — until the decree of Darius was promulgated, the work remained uniiiiislied ; — the temple was completed, but the walls of Jerusalem remained a mournful desolation. Fifty years after this, Artaxerxes sent Ezra the Priest with presents for the temple and letters of favor to the Governors of the land, and tvrelve years after this, Nehemiah followed, to restore the walls of Jerusalem to somethmg of their origi- nal glory. The difficulties of the undertaking are fully and graphically narrated in this book : — how that the builders every one, wrought at the walls with the weapon in the one hand and the sword in the other ; — how that Sanballat and Tobiah and Geshem, attempted once and again, by cunning craftiness and professions of friendship and tln-eatenings of evil, to divert them from their pur- pose, and how that Nehemiah responded to all their over- tures ; — " I am doing a great work, so that I cannot come down." Finally after a period of ninety years, Jerusalem was restored and the temple furnished for the service of the Lord. And now, for the first time after the long silence of some hundred and fifty years, Nehemiah and Ezra assem- ble the people to hear the words of the law. Ezra the OBUSTXAN JOT. 128 1 ended. B[b, had return le Holy )tles8 in Zernb- lah and I began ns soon 3 — until imained walls of y years ^resents s of the wed, to ir origi- :e fully lat the weapon )w that Lce and endship ir pur- ir over- 3t come rusalem rvico of ence of assem- zra the Priest, we are told, gathered all the people to the water- gate of the city, and there on a pulpit of wood, which they had made for the purpose, opened the Book of Moses, in the sight of all the people, and read it to such as could understand. Strange and conflicting feelings filled the minds of the congregation on that occasion. Doubtless they felt grateful that God in his meruy had spared them to see such a day ; that the desire of their hearts had been fulfilled, and the visible ordinances of the sanctuary once more set up in their midst. But there were other feelings of a less gladsome character. As they Ustened to the Law of Moses, the recollection of their past sins and shortcom- ings flashed upon the memory. The sad departure of the nation from Jehovah, which had brought upon them the judgments of hoaven and the seventy years' captivity; and the testimony of their conscience, that the retribution they had suffered was at once merciful and righteous ; — such thoughts filled their hearts with sorrow and dimmed their eyes with tears, *' so that all the people wept, when they heard the words of the law." The goodness of God had moved them to penitence for their own and the sins of their fathers, so that while glad at heart for the completion of the work, they were sad and silent in view of the mem- ories of the past. It was in such circumstances that these words of tender and loving rebuke were spoken: *' Go your way, eat the fat, and drink the sweet, and send portions unto them for whom nothing is prepared : for the day is holy unto our Lord : neither be ye sorry : for Uie joy of the Lord is your strength." There was great wisdom manifested in Nehemiah's action. Weeping was all very well for a time. Sorrow and sadness of heart were exmnently becoming in the cir- 124 CHRItSTIAN JOT. cumstances in wbich they were placed, but only as the pre- cusors and enhancers of their joy. It would never do to give way entirely to grief. Tliey must not become par- alyzed or faint hearted, while so much important and pressing work remained before them. Although the tem- ple had been rebuilt and Jerusalem's walls restored, the - entire civil and ecclesiastical polity of the nation needed readjustment and organization ; — the scattered tribes must be gathered back again and the national bond of unity publicly ratified and sealed. In some respects, this was a more difficult work than the rebuilding of the walls, demanding courage, patience, unflagging ]3erseverance, wise counsels, and hopeful spirits. It would never be ac- comphshed if they sat down and wept over the irrevocable past : tears and lamentations were out of place at such a time. As the people of God, havmg passed under the rod and received anew into the bond of the covenant, they were called to a nobler exliibition of faith and heroism ; — to act the part of men, and overcome the despondency and down- ward tendencies of their j)resent condition. The sources of joy and strength which were open to them, warranted a different kind of conduct, and these were amply sufficient to meet every emergency and help in every strait. It has been truly remarked, that sorrow of a certain kind and of a certain degree is not only salutary but m- spiring ; and that there is but a very narrow bridge be- tween excessive joy and excessive grief. Often indeed they are intermingled, the one becoming the supplement of the other — as the Apostle says : — '* Sorrowing yet always re- joicing." Trials and hardships, while they clothe the soul in gloom, at the same time inspire it with a vigour and ruggedness, which continued prosperity and gladness can CHRISTIAN JOY. 125 never furnish. When like the Jews of old we reflect upon our past history — whether it be as part of the great world that lies under condemnation, or as individual transgres- sors of God's holy law in our daily practice — we cannot but grieve and sorrow, before that feelings of joy possess the soul. " When we think of the light that faith casts upon our condition, upon our nature, upon our responsi- bilities, upon our sins and upon our destinies, we can easily see, that if gladness be one part of its operation, no less really and truly is sadness another." But while this is true, it is none the less certain, that joy should be the normal characteristic of all God's children, and that just in pro- portion as it is possessed and cultivated, will be our spiri- tual strength and our attainments in divine things. The text then teaches what Solomon elsewhere laconi- cally remarks, that there is a time to weej) and a time to laugh — a time to mourn and a time to dance ; in other words, that in the Christian life, there is a certain fitness of things to be observed, as in the common concerns of Ufe. A marriage supper is an occasion for joy ; the sad offices that attend the dying and the dead, ca.ll for other and different feelings. A soul under convictions of sin, but as yet with no saving recognition of the overflowing mercy of God, and personal assurance of its safety in Christ, cannot rejoice as that man, who is conscious of pardoned sin and grasps firmly the title deeds of the hea- venly inheritance. In other words, true beUevers have no business to give way to systematic sorrow. Doubts and perplexities may for a time encompass them, but as years roll on, they should rest with a confidence upon the pro- mises of an infinite God, that puts to flight all unworthy suspicions of his continued love. 126 CHBISTIAM JOT. Such BtatemeutB imply that all kinds of joy are neither stimulating nor strengthening. There is a flippant, giddy, shallow, because earthborn joy, that enfeebles, dissipates and undermines a man's moral being, unfitting him for his destiny here and hereafter. Unhallowed pleasures, — wild outbursts of unbridled revelry, — produce a momentary gladness of heart, but intensify pangs of remorse and mis- ery in the future. Such gleams oi joy are well likened to flowers which grow on the edge of a dark volcano, which wakens in lurid glare and thunder, when the excitement of the occasion has passed away and distracts repose. They are the product of passion when unguarded by reason, and are as inevitably followed by the bitterness of despair, as the thunder peal succeeds the lightning flash ! It is time now to speak affirmatively of what this joy is, and of the nature of that strength it is capable of furnish- ing the believer. Joy is a motion scarcely definable. It is the outward expression of a delightful frame of mind, arising from the present or assured possession of good. It may be felt in the heart without the external evidence, but rarely is it so. When a man feels happy, it is general- ly shown in the outward life. Joy is the emotion of glad- ness in a higher degree, because proceeding from: a more important cause. It is also distinguishable from mere mirth and frivolity, inasmuch as it always has respect to good. Christian joy can scarcely be described. The Bible gives us no abstract definition. It commands Christians to be joyful, confident that the feeling wiU al- ways be present, if men are, what the Scriptures enjoin them to be. If therefore we do not more or less frequently, experience this dehghtful emotion, it must be, that our hearts and lives are out of tune. CHRISTIAN JOY. 127 No command is more habitually disregarded by Cliris- tians. Religion seems in the estimation of many good people, something that is gloomy — austere and sad ; in- compatible with joy either expressed or felt. A Christian who is habitually joyful is regarded as a wonder. Men single him out for study. They do not expect piety and cheerfulnesB united in the same man. Young Christians particularly, who give way to their feelings and emotions, are the objects of suspicion. Christian joy and delight are thus as effectually banished from our homes and churches, as in the days of monasticism and asceticism, when men sought deserts and caverns to escape society, and avoid in- tercourse with the world. All this is in direct violation of the spirit of Christian- ity. Joy is not simple a permissable emotion, — something that a man may indulge in occasionally without actual sin, but is a positive duty. It is not meant to be an embellish- ment, — but an essential characteristic of every child of God. It is to be sought after and cultivated, as much as any other grace. When the angels announced the Savi- our's advent to the world, it was in joyous strains, and God intends that believers should perpetuate this joy, until the strains of the church on earth>. blend -with the melody of the redeemed in heaven. Notice, 1st — Tt is the joy of the Lord : peculiar to no dispensation and belonging to no special race ; — as acces- sible to us now as to the Jews of old. Christianity indeed is susceptible of affording us a higher and purer kind of joy than did the Old Testament economy. They only knew of Mount Sinai, with its tempests and thunders — we stand under the shadow of Mount Calvary, with its burning tones of love. They rejoiced because the Babylonish Cap- 128 CHBISTIAN JOY. tivity was ended, — we rejoice because deliverance from the power and consequences of sin has been effected. They were glad because the temple was rebuilt and the walls of Jerusalem restored — we cherish similar feelings, because the Heavenly temple has been prepared for us and our Great High Priest within the veil advocates our cause. Wliy then should the children of a King, **go mourning all their days?" Rather should we sing as we journey Canaanward; " Shout ye little flock and blest Soon you'll enter into rest ; There your seat is now prepared, There your Kingdom and reward. ** Fear not Brethren, joyful stand On the borders of your land ; Je«us Christ, our Father's son Bids us undismayed, go on." The object of this joy then is, not this world, nor the things in tlie world, but God himself. " Delight thyself in God,'' "Ye righteous rejoice in the Lordj — sing aloud unto God our strength, make a joyful noise unto the God of Jacob." *' Though the fig tree shall not blossom, neither fruit be on the vines, the labour of the olive fail, — the fields yield no meat, — the flocks be cut off from the fold, and there be no herds in the stall, yet will I rejoice in the Lord, — I will joy in the God of my salvation." That God should be the object of the believers rejoicing, is surely not wonderful. Men of the world indite poems and wreathe the brow of conquerors in token of a nation's gratitude. But Christ has secured for the beUever not only present blessedness, but the hope of eternal happi- ness beyond the grave. He has ransomed him from the curse of a broken law, tedeemed him from the bondage of CHRISTIAN JOY. 129 )m the They alls of )ecause id our cause, urning ournej Lor the self in aloud eGod either , — the fold, in the tGod mrely and tion's r not appi- Q the geof sin, brought him up out of the horrible pit and the miry clay, sent the Holy Spirit to sanctify and cleanse his na- ture, caused him to sing songs in the dark night of sorrow, and made over to him an inaUenable right to eternal mansions above ! Secondly — God is the sourceof this joy. It is a fruit of the spirit. *'The kingdom of God is righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit. The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace." Sometimes this joy comes unexpectedly. Often in the midst of our worldly employments, there are unaccountable gleams of heavenly joy that break in upon the soul, — visions of glory that ravish and support the heart. These moments of exultation are due to the direct operations of the Spirit. More frequently this joy comes through the use of means, and connected with other spiri- tual emotions. It is inseparable from love, for where the love of God is shed abroad in the heart, joy springs up like fountains in the desert. It is also a result of faith, for when faith lays hold upon Christ, there is joy unspeak- able and full of glory. » It is worthy of notice, how much of true joy mingled in all the services of the temple and tabernacle of old. The young converts in the early church, always manifested their gladness by acts of praise. The primitive Christians were full of joy. In public and in private — in the family and in the market place, they gave unmistakable evidence ofthe joy that filled their hearts. So should Christians at the present day. If our Christianity does not produce cheerfulness and rejoicing, it is so far as we are concerned a dead rehgion. If in coming Sabbath after Sabbath to the house of God, we do not find our hearts enlarged, and can say with the pious Jew of old, ** We were glad when it 180 OHRISTUll JOT- >» was said nnto us, Go ye up to the house of the Lord :- let us tremble for our faith ! The human voice and countenance are the expon- ents of Christian joy. These constitute the dial plate, upon which we are to mark the otherwise concealed operations of the Holy Spirit. In the congregation of God's saints, there should be great joy and rejoicing. Our inward joy is only valuable in so far as it is manifested. Where vi- tal religion flourishes, the preaching of the word is always accompanied with gladness. In all ages of the church, from the period of the Reformation down to the days of Whitfield, and Wesley, and Edwards, revivals of religion have been invariably marked by a revival of the praise and devotions of God's people. Thirdly — This joy of the Lord is altogether independent of outward circumstances. The changes that take place in our condition — the reverses and bereavements that are in- terjected in our history, may to some extent moderate and tranquillize our joy, but cannot extinguish it. Herein lies the difference between natural gladness and spiritual joy. The former may be innocent enough and useful enough to oil the machinery of life, but it depends upon contingencies. It rises or falls according as prosperity or adversity fills our cup. It is with mere natural joy as it is with the water in our pitchers after a night of intense and bitter cold. In the evening when we retire to rest, the water is hquid, pure and sparkling ; but during the night it becomes frigid and hard as rock, and useless for the ordinary purposes of life. So in many cases, a single night of wordly misfortune banishes the merry laugh and ends the innocent pastime of the worldling. Not so with the joy of the Lord. It can flourish under the most depressing and saddening condi- OBUSTUN JOT. 181 rd :~" expon- e, upon rations saints, ftrd joy ere vi- always 5hurch, ays of eligion se and oendent lace in are in- tte and iies the . The oil the [t rises * cup. in our [n the pure d and •fhfe. rtune stime t can ondi- tions of existence. The dark gloomy prison cell cannot expel it — the martyr's fire but causes it to leap forth with supernatural fervour. It is not meant that the Christian has no moments of sorrow. The Bible, which is the record of the saints' ex- perience, has in it a great deal of lamentation. There are wailings of broken hearts and half-stifled sobs. This in many cases, is the first experience of the believer. It comes from sin and the corruption of our nature. So long as we are in the world, we must have occasionally such sorrowful experiences. The brightest sky has its passing cloud ; the ocean when most tranquil has its ripples, if not its waves and billows. The Christian, even in mo- ments of joy, has sorrow. But in the midst of heaviness he can rejoice. On the surface of his life, there may be dark rolling billows, but in the depths of his soul there is unearthly peace. Like David, he is at times away down in the valley of despondency ; at other times, like the dis- ciples on the mount of Transfiguration; — ^lingering corrup- tion — fightings within and fightings without — a desire to be free from sin, and the natural inability to rise superior to its downward tendencies — all these things produce sorrow. But on the other hand, the love of God in Christ — the re- vealed truths of redemption, the consolations which flow from the care and guidance of an ever present Saviour, produce joy in the darkest and most trying hours. This joy does not abandon the believer at a certain stage of his journey, but remains with him to the close. In sickness and in health, in prosperity and in adversity, in life and in death it is a constant companion. It buds in the grave and blossoms in eternity. On his way to the scaffold and the flames, he can sing songs of victory. The reflected 182 CHRISTUM JOY. brightness of heaven's glory, lightens the dark valley of death's shadow, helping him to say, **I will fear no evil." ** The Lord is my light and salvation, whom shall I fear ?" Fourthly — This joy of the Lord is a source of strength. It is a valuable auxiliary in the Christian life. It helps us to engage successfully in our master's work. It is not only a sweet antidote to the cares for life, but it makes the soul buoyant, vigorous and lion-hearted. It enables the behever to say in confidence of victory, "who art thou, great mountain? before Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain. Who hath despised the day of small things? The hands of Zerubbabel have laid the foundations of this house — his hands shall finish it." Hopefulness and joy are the great stimulators of existence. The mind is the great propelling force in life, and can make the weak and shrivelled body triumphantly overcome the most formid- able obstacles. It is not muscular force that rules the world, but the electric spark that fires the brain. Hope- ful sunny natures can thus accomplish more work and do it better, than those who dwell within the confines of their own memory, and lament a past that never returns. God's work may either be drudgery or unspeakable delight ac- cording to our feeUngs. With hearts full of love — with supports of grace now and anticipations of glory beyond, labor of the hardest kind is easy and self-denial pleasant. Can you tell me, said George Stephenson, the great engi- neer, to Buckland the Geologist, — as a railway train flashed along, tossing behind it's long white plume of steam — what is the power that is driving that train ? I suppose said the Geologist, it is one of your big enguies. But what drives the engine ? Oh, very likely a Newcastle driver. What do you say to the light of the sun repUed CHRISTIAN JOY. 188 valley of 10 evil." Ifear ?" strength. It helps It is not akes the ibles the thou, jcome a 5? The of this and joy i is the lak and formid- ales the Hope- ad do it of their God's ght ac- J — with )eyond, easant. t engi- ' train f steam appose . But vcastle repUed the great engineer ? It is nothing else than hght bottled up in the earth for ten thousands of years, and now after being buried for long ages in fields of coal, that hght is again brought forth and liberated, and made to work as in the locomotive, for great human purposes." And so in the spiritual world, sunbeams of divine love, and rays of divine grace from the sun of righteousness bless mankind and glorify God. Christian joy should be cultivated, because oiitsef.^ feds upon the Believer himself. Trials and crosses are easily borne when joy dwells in the heart. Those who are always clothed in sackcloth go through life very miserable indeed. Soldiers who go into the fight with despondent, anxious hearts, full of fears and misgivings as to the issue of the conflict, are very apt to fail and fall. As cheerful- ness and elasticity of spirit are of the greatest value in the commonest affairs of life, so spiritual joy is of the greatest importance in the kingdom of God upon the earth. Such a frame of mind produces alacrity and activity in God's service. It imparts vigor to the soul. It casts off unne- cessary cares and tormenting distractions — it keeps the heart warm and the head clear. The soul thus anointed works without constraint or reluctance, and the most la- borious duties become pleasant and attractive. It should also be cultivated, because it attracts the world to the religion of Christ, It commends true piety. It draws men not simply towards Christian society, but eventually leads them to the Saviour himself. When un- godly men see Christian cheerfulness manifested, not only in periods of unbroken prosperity, but when crosses and disappointments abound in the Christian's lot ; when they 184 OHBXSTIAM JOT. see the face radiant with joy and the tongue voeal with praise, they naturally enquire what causes so singular an exhibition of gladness, lifting the soul beyond the regions of doubt, despair, and despondency, into the clear sun- light of unclouded hope. In prospect of once more sitting at the table of the Lord, let us take these words as a directory for our con- duct.* We cannot altogether on such an occasion shut out gloomy thoughts. The remembrance of individual un- worthiness, and of private and public sins, oftentimes robs the believer of much enjoyment. There is also the saddening thought that every communion season finds a change in the membership, some having left for that higher temple, '* Where congregations ne'er break up And Sabbaths have no end." I can easily understand that at the dedication of the second temple, many of those present thought of those who had taken part in the dedication of the first, and those who had died far away from the land and the city they loved so fondly, and were no longer present to shar^ their new- found joy. Kindred thoughts oppress the child of God on sacramental seasons. But we must not yield to them overmuch. The day, the occasion, the table, are holy unto the Lord. It is no time for tears, nor mere idle lamenta- tion. It is a time for sanctified mirth, for saintly fellow- ship, for the appropriation of those rich and precious graces which the Master has prepared for His people. As you take your places at the table, say : •< Gome and o'ershadow with thy power. This lonely heart of mine, And feed me in this solemn honr, « With thine own bread and wine. ^Commnnion SabbtUh, May 16th, 1875. >eal with gnlar an e regions ear sun- e of the our con- don shut dual un- robe the addening lange in • temple, >n of the lose who lose who loved so leir new- God on to them loly unto amenta- Y fellow- precious )le. As GOD'S HIDDEN ONES. " Thy hidden ones."— Psalms Ixxxiii, v. 3. It is literally as well as figuratively true, that in many periods of the church's history, God's people have been hidden ones. During the fearful persecutions of the first three centuries, the little band of Christians lived from year to year in dark sepulchral chambers scooped out of the solid rock. Apart from the world of living men, and under the busy streets of Eome, the Catacombs provided at one and the same time a hiding place for the living and a resting place for the dead. Here, by torch light, they sang hymns ol praise, and engaged in the most solemn acts of worship. Here generation after generation of suf- fering saints were prepared for the glorious rewards await- ing those who, through much tribulation, enter into the kingdom. During the period of the dark ages also, when spiritual darkness and mental torpor overspread the world, the Waldenses were similarly hidden from their cruel per- secutors in the Alpine valleys. And during the terrible bloodshed of the covenanting period, the best of Scotland's sons and daughters sought refuge from a brutal soldiery in dark ravines and under frowning precipices, where human foot had never trod. There the sounds of prayer and praise were often heard under cover of the night. There strong men wrestled with God, for the deliverance of their 186 GOD S HIDDEN ONES. down-trodden country, and there upon the lonely moor, once and again, their warm blood dyed the heather. There these hidden ones of God ** with the stars sailing over- head as silent witnesses of their devotion and their wrongs," and "the night winds sighing round the mountain, or howling through the rugged glen, wafting the echo of their praise in circling strains to heaven," held communion with their God and defied the rage of m"-^ The Psalm in which these words are found speaks of the Israelites as " God's hidden ones." In many res- pects they were so. Their whole history as a nation is marked by instances of God's protection and unfaihng goodness. The Psalm is supposed to have been composed in the reign of Jehosapliat, when several of the Canaanitish nations, not yet exterminated, conspired for the overthrow of the Jewish Commonwealth. It reminds God of his re- lation to his covenant people and calls uy ^u him to vindi- cate their cause iu the dispersion of tl: enemies. The language indicates long silence on the part of Jehovah ; a holding back as it were, from interfering with the designs of the crafty heathen. ** Hold not thy peace, and be not still, God. For lo thine enemies make a tumult ! and they that hate thee have lifted up the Head. They have taken cmfty counsel against thy people, and consulted against thy hidden o??