TWENTY-FIVE 8ERM0NS.

A MEMORIAL

TWENTY-FIVE YEARS' MINISTRY.

JOHN CORDNER,

M1KI(!TER OP THE CHURCH OF THE MESSIAH, MONTREAL.

^Printed by jIohn j^oyell, ^t. J^icholas ^treet.

18G8.

THE CONGREGATION

WORSHIPPING

111 t|t ^mt^ of tfjc ilessial, llonfrtal;

THESK

TWENTY-FIVE SERMONS

ARE AFFKOTIOXATKIA' rNSCRIBED,

A MEMORIAL OF

Twenty-Five Years' Ministry.

NOTE. .

Of the many books printed in these days, bocks of ser-
mons are perhaps in least demand by the public. It was
not through any special desire to publish, that the present
volume came to be printed. The inscription, on the pre-
ceding leaf, indicates the simple purpose of its appearance.
I felt that the people whom it has been my privilege to serve
as minister of the Gospel for the last quarter of a century,
might be gratified to have some permanent memorial of
this period of our connection. I can offer no particular
explanation why the sermons here printed have been
selected rather than others. Such as they are, however,
they are given in print just as they were prepared for the
pulpit. And, presented in this form, they are, of course,
open to public reading so far as any interest may be
taken in them outside of our own congregation. Those
who heard them spoken from the pulpit will remember that
where the printed discourse appears bare or abrupt, it was
amplified during delivery ; and that the longer sermons,
when preached, were divided into convenient portions at

consecutive services.

J. C.

Noveinher, 1868.

CONTENTS.

SERMON I.; : .; ,

' PAGE.

Twenty and Five Years 9

lie reigned twenty and five years in Jerusalem.— 2 Chrox.

XX. ul>

SERMON ir.

Eepentance toward God 25

Testifying both to the Jews, and also to the Greeks, repentance
toward God.— Acts xx. 21.

SERMON III.

Faith toward Christ 37

Testifying ...faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ.— Act8

XX. 21.

SERMON lY.

The Great Co3imandmext

Jesus said, thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart,
and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the
first and great commandment.— Matt. xxii. 37, 38.

IV CONTENTS.

SERMON V.

PACK.

TiiK Bible, the Record of a Progressive Revelation . . 71

ticxl, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time
past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days
spoken unto us by his Son.— Heb. i, 1, 2.

SERMON VI.

The Christian Sunday 91

1 was in the Spirit on the Lord's Day— Eev. i. 10.

SERMON YII.

Ne^v Year 104

Lord, let it alone this year also.— Luke xiii. 8.

SERMON VIII.

Spring 113

The earth bringeth forth her bud.— Is. Ixi. *J.

SERMON IX.

A Retrospect — Eighteen Hundred and Fifty-four. . . . 123

For thus hath the Lord said unto me, . . .let him declare what he
sceth. — Is. xxi. 6.

SERMON X.

The Foundations of Nationality 141

I will make a man more precious than fine gold; even a man
than the golden wedge of Ophir.— Is. xiii. 12.

CONTENTS. Y

SERMON XL

'' - "^ " PAOE.
•' RlGIITEOUSXESS EXALTETH A NaTIOX" I TO

Kightcousness exalteth a nation ; but sin is a reproach to any :
people.— Peov. xiv. 34.

SERMON XIT.

The Planting and Purpose of America 189

Tlie lot is cast into the lap; but the whole disposing thereof in

of the Lord.— Pkov. xvi.

SERMON XIII.

The Christian Idea of Sacrifice 207

The law having a shadow^ of good things to come, and not the

very image of the things, can never with those sacrifices • ;
which they offered year by year continually, make the comers
thereunto perfect. * * * *

He said, Sacrifice and offering and burnt offerings and offer-
ing for sin thou wouldst not, neither hadst pleasure therein ;
which are offered by the law; Then said he, Lo, I come to
do thy will, O God. He taketh away the lirst, that he may
establish the second.— Heb. x. 1, 8, 9.

SERMON XIV.

The Women at the Cross 204

Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his
mother's sister, Mary the wife of Cieophas, and Mary 3Iag-
dalene.— John xix. 25.

SERMON XV.

Unity of the Father and the Son 248

1 and my Father are one,— John x. 30.

Vi . CONTENTS.

SERMON XVI.

PAGE.

Christian Groavth through Truth and Love 267

Speaking the truth in love, we may grow up into him in all
things, 'vhich is the head, even Christ.— Eph. iv. 15. '*

SERMON XYII.

Inward Renewal Greater than Outward Miracles . . . 280

He that believeth on me, the works that I do shall he do also ;
and greater works than these shall he do.— John xiv. 12.

SERMON XVTIL

Duf Y OF THE Rich to the Poor 293

I have showed you all things, how that so laboring ye ought to
support the weak, and to remember the words of the Lord
Jesus, how he said, It is more blessed to give than to receive.
—Acts xx. 35.

SERMON XIX.

Personal Scrutiny ^\ 312

Lord, is it I ?— Matt. xxvi. 22.

SERMON XX.

Moral Position 322

And the Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto him : Where
art thou ?— Gen. iii. 9.

CONTENTS. Vii

SERMON XXL

PAGE.

Visible Character, not Private Vision, the Christian
Mark 334

I forbear, lest any man should think of me above that which he
seeth me to be.— II Cok. xii, 6.

SERMON XXII.

Man's Relation to God's Rule 345

I know, O Lord, that thy judgments are right ; and that thou in
faithfulness hast afflicted me,— rs. cxix. 75.

SERMON XXIII.

Tribulation 356

These things have I spoken unto you, that in me ye might have
peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation ; but be of good
cheer; I have overcome the world.— John xvi. 33.

SERMON XXIV.

The Christian View of Life and Death 36S

For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.— rniL. i. 21.

SERMON XXV.

All Souls, One Family 382.

The whole family in heaven and earth.— Eph. ill. 15.

SERMON I.

TWENTY AND FIVE YEARS.

yf^. ZS^'^ //tTV.

" He reigned twenty and five years in Jerusalem."— 2 CJiroa. xx. 31.

Twenty and five years : — This, according to the
Hebrew chronicle, was the term of Jehoshaphat's reign
as king of Judah. In the Hebrew psalms the days of
a man's life have been set down in a general way as
three score years and ten, or four score. This is the
famihar statement of the solemn psalm-prayer of
Moses, known as the ninetieth psalm of the Bible — the
march of whose grand verses awes the soul, and stills it
into rest upon the eternal God. This statement of the
length of man's mortal years was made as the result
of observation and experience, while man yet lived a
simple pastoral and agricultural life. With the changed
condition of human pursuits which civihzation, and
especially our modern civilization brings, the average
term of human life upon earth is reduced materially
from the term given by Moses of old. In these days

10 ^ ■ SERMON I.

we hardly dare to state half the number of four score
years as the average duration of human life, In our
modern tables of mortality we see a very large propor-
tion of our race consigned to the grave before the
years of infancy have been passed. Then the expo-
sure to disease and death is so great to those who
survive the earlier years, that a large proportion of
these, again, are carried away before they enter the
period which brings to man the more serious responsi-
bilities of maturity. Thus it comes to pass that when
any of us can speak of twenty-five years' service in
any particular place, or department of duty, the
statement means, with respect to time, rather more to
us than it could have done in the case of any prince
or patriarch, husbandman or shepherd of ancient
Judea.

Twenty and five years — a quarter of a century —
as a term of service I can use it to-day, w^ith reference
to my ministry in this place. The services of this
present Sunday, it being the last Sunday of this
month of October, eighteen hundred and sixty-
eight, will close a period of twenty-five years' ministry.
So that if I should live to stand in this pulpit on this
day week, I shall then enter on my twenty-sixth year
of ministerial service to this congregation. Looking
forward, a quarter of a century makes a long term ;
but looking backward, it does not seem so lengthened.
Looking backward our years seem " like a tale that is
told." But who can look forward so long ? None of
us. God holds the future in his own sight. In the

TWENTY AND FIVE YEARS. 11

order of the Divine dealing with u?, every moment
lifts its own curtain. Let us dutifully accept God's
method, and rightly use each day as it comes ; and
fiUal faith will give us all needed assurance for the
morrow. The future we cannot penetrate ; the future
we need not penetrate. But the path of the past over
which we have journeyed may be reviewed for our use
in the present, and our guidance in the future.

Looking back through tv»^enty-five years we can
notice many changes in our general community, and a
marked growth in the visible proportions of our city.
If we could pause to notice the changes on a wider
scale which the last twenty-five years have brought,
we should have a survey of immense interest and im-
portance. Of all the many revolutions, social and
political, which have taken place during the last quar-
ter of a century, that which has come to the neigh-
boring nation of the United States, has been the most
signal and important. The abolition of slavery in the
American Union, brought about by an insurrection
designed to strengthen and perpetuate that institution,
is, in itself, a very notable and instructive event. But
taken in connection with the disastrous four years'
war involved therein, and the reconstruction of society
necessitated thereby, it becomes an event destined to
a conspicuous and commanding place in history. It
marks one of those grand periods of providential
movement which future ages will look back upon, and
contemplate with special interest. There have been
many European revolutions during the last twenty-five

12 v. SERMON I.

years, involving much bloodshed and social confusion,
and bringing political changes more or less important
to various peoples and potentates. Not the least
important of the European revolutions, although in-
volvinn; neither bloodshed nor social confusion, is that v
which has recently taken place in England, whereby
a large proportion of her working population has been
invested with the elective franchise. Here we see an
extensive popular privilege obtained, in a constitutional
and peaceful way, of great immediate importance,
but of greater importance, considered with reference
to its future results. We see in this event a recogni-
tion of the dignity of labor and of the value of the
working man in the body politic. Herein we see a
just claim conceded, w^hen it was made to appear that
the right time had come for the concession. And this
opens the way more clearly for the further concessions
of just claims^ which are sure to be insisted on by the
advancing intelligence of the age. Among the first of
these, likely to be urged, is the abolition of ecclesias-
tical monopolies in national institutions and property.
The Irish Church, as now by law established, will soon
be called to account in this matter, and whether the
struggle be long or short, it can only be brought to a
close by doing simple justice to all the people of the
land. In England the monopoly of the established
Church has a deeper root and a wider hold, and it
will remain longer than the Irish monopoly. But when
we look back twenty-five years, and see the substan-
tial reforms which have been accomplished during that

TWENTY AND FIVE YEARS. 13

time, we see the probability of the downfall of the mono-
poly now enjoyed by the established Church in Eng-
land. Whoever shall stand at the close of the next
quarter of a century will probibly see the ecclesiastical
and university property of the nation used for the
benefit of the entire people of the nation, — not held,
as it now is, for the exclusive enjoyment of any par-
ticular section of the general body of religionists.
Every advance made toward religious equality as the
recognised policy of the nation is a step in the way of
simple justice which is sure to redound to the high-
est interest of the nation. In every triumph of justice
which abolishes a standing wrong, and removes temp-
tation to ecclesiastical cupidity and pride, Christianity
is a gainer.

I have referred to the changes which have talvcn
place in our own city and general community Avithin
the last twenty-five years. Montreal has increased in
dimensions, in population, in prosperity and the visible
tokens thereof. Two- thirds of the present population
of our city has been the growth of the last quarter of
3> century, and our augmented population has made
its clear mark in stretching new streets and raising
new and substantial buildings in every direction.
Montreal has had, and still enjoys its full measure of
advantage from the general progress made in the arts
and enterprises which facihtate human intercourse
and extend commerce. Twenty -five years ago a jour-
ney to Boston or New York took about three days.
Now it can be made in one day ; or if we wish to eco-

14 SERMON I.

nomise time we luay do it in a night. Trans-atlantic
steamships tv • re rare twenty-five yeara since. By going
to New YorkorBostor we could get a single weekly line.
Now we have several lines, and some of them coming to
our own wharves. If any one had said, twenty-five
years ago, that in this year, eighteen hundred and
sixty-eight, the events of to-day in London, Paris or
Madrid, should appear as news in the Montreal papers
of to-morrow morning, most of us would have looked
upon him as a mere visionary. But the vision of the
Atlantic telegraph is now an accomplished fact, and
we look for its results as a matter of course. Thus it
is, I say, that Montreal has shared fairly and fully in
the benefits of the great tide of progress which has
set in in this direction during the last quarter of a
century.

We must, however, limit our review of the growth
of our city ; and, for fitting illustration just now, refer
more particularly to the improvement and increase of
church buildings. There are between fifty and sixty
church buildings in our city and suburbs now — build-
ings, I mean, specially erected and duly set apart for
religious worship. And of this whole number there
are not ten which were in existence twenty-five years
ago. We can say, then, that nearly fifty churches have
been built since, making an average of almost two for
each year. Now, if church building is to be regarded
as an evidence of the interest taken in religion, and
I think that with due allowance it is to be so regarded,
then the result is creditable and encouraging. Several

TWENTY AND FIVE YEARS. 15

new worshipping societies have been estabhshed, who
have raised new buildings, and many of the old con-
gregations have erected new churches. As an illus-
tration of the changes which have taken place in the
ministry ia Montreal, I observe that of the officiating
Protestant clergymen now in the city, more than forty
in number, only five are of longer standing than my-
self. Several of those who were engaged in active
duty here when I came, have since died at their posts,
and others have removed to other spheres of labor.
The places of these have been filled, and others, again,
have come into the new fields of duty which an increas-
ing population demanded.

As we meet here to-day, however, the closing Sun-
day of a twenty-five years' term of service, on my
part, to this congregation, the changes and the growth
of our own worshipping society is the matter of interest
which lies more immediately before us. Have we
grown in numbers in the same proportion as our gen-
eral community has grown ? Without the least dan-
ger of exaggeration, we can say that we have grown
in the full proportion of the city's increase of popula-
tion. By going into details of figures, I could make
this statement stron;2;er. But it is strono; enoudi as it
stands. Coming here, as I did twenty-five years ago,
on an invitation signed by nineteen persons only, not
more than half of whom represented famiHes, I can
hardly say what number should be considered actually
connected with us on my arrival. As the first regu-
larly settled minister of this congregation, it was not

16 SERMOX I.

until I had been here nearly a year that I could make
any proper computation of the number of persons in-
terested in establishing and maintaining a worshipping
society of Liberal Christians. But dating from the
time when such a computation became possible, I can
confidently say, that oar numerical growth has fully
equalled that of the city. And, besides, I can state
that a number of fellow-worshippers, equal to the num-
ber of our congregation as it now stands, have, through
the two causes of death and removal from the city,
been removed from our company during the last
twenty-five years. This indicates the kind of change
which is constantly going on in all larger centres of
population on this continent.

It would appear, then, that so far as outward in-
crease is concerned, we should thank God and take
courage. Our growth in this respect has been as great
as we could have been authorized to expect, consider-
ing the misapprehensions and prejudices which exist
against our views of religion. That we should have
needed to enlarge our church accommodation, as we
have done by the erection of this commodious edifice
ten years ago, and placing it quite free from debt,
shows an actual growth in numbers beyond what was
expected when our first church was built. During
the first year of my ministry, as some of you remem-
ber, we met for worship in a very humble hired room,
now occupied as a shop, in the square below. In the
beginning of the next winter, we removed to our new
church, then raised on this site. We assembled in

TWENTY AND FIVE YEARS.

the basement room, while the main part of the build-
ing was carried on to completion. On the cio-hth day
of December, eighteen hundred and forty-four, we
first met here for worship, when the Lord's supper
was administered, for the first time, to fifty-five commu-
nicants. During the spring of the following year, we
obtained the necessary act from the Legislature to
authorize the minister of this congregation to keep a
register. On the seventeenth of March, eighteen hun-
dred and forty-five, this act received the royal sanc-
tion.* This gave us full legal rights, and placed us
on a legal equality with any other religious denomina-
tion in the country. . ^3 ; :
While we should be grateful to God for such outward
and visible increase as we have had, it would be folly
and sin to rely on any such increase as a complete
attainment. I have no shadow of doubt that more mic^ht
have been accomplished for the cause of God and man,
and for ourselves, if all our members had been equally
faithful to their privileges, and devoted to their trusts.
Nor have I any shadow of doubt that more may be done
still, if we are only faithful to our duty and true to our
light. If there had been no halting or faltering or

* The first entries of birth, baptism, marriage, and burial, in
the register of the Unitarian Congregation are as follow :

Birth :— Edward D. White, 31st March, 1845.
Burial : — John Smith, 31st March, 1845.
Baptism : — John Perry, 15th April, 1845.
Marriage : — Thomas Workman and Annabella Eadie, 10th Sep-
tember, 1845.

18 * SERMON r.

neo-ligence on the part of any of us, we should have had
•wider and more substantial results than we have to-day.
And I feel more and more convinced every year that it
only requires ordinary fidelity on our own part, to make
cur congregation prosperous, and an instrument of high
usefulness to ourselves and toothers — an efficient means
of promoting the kingdom of God among men. That
much prejudice still exists in the popular mind against
Unitarianlsm, and all forms of Liberal Christianity, is
not to be denied. And yet it is too plain to be denied that,
running throughout the general mind, there are strong
and increasing currents of sympathy -with the fundamen-
tal principles wLich distinguish Liberal Christianity.
There are multitudes who are actually Unitarians, and
yet are unconscious of the fact. Every day it is be-
coming more and more evident that the presence and
influence of Unitarianism, as a type of religious thought,
is not to be measured by the number of Unitarians
actually organized in religious societies bearing the
Unitarian name. Popular prejudices blind the eyes
of reason and block the way of progress, and are to be
deplored. Prejudice is to be deplored, I say ; but less
on our account than on account of those who have the
misfortune to lie under its influence ; for bondage
thereto is moral degradation. The poj^ular mind is
swayed by the influence of numbers, and is apt to be
deterred by authoritative denunciation. If ten thou-
sand persons believe in transubstantiation, endless hell
torments, unconditional election, or a tri-personal deity,
it is held by most minds to be safer to believe according

TWENTY AND FIVE YEARS.

to tlie creed of the ten thousand, though it should con-
fuse them and confound them, than to believe a sim-
ple and reasonable doctrine like that of the simple
unity of God, while it is openly maintained only by a few.
— perhaps ten persons instead of ten thousand. To my
eyes, there is nothing sadder to witness than a feeble
and timid mind bent and awed by this illegitimate
pressure of numbers, or by the apprehension of social
inconvenience, — so bent and awed thereby, that it yields
the ground of truth it has reached, and falls back, cowed
and cowering, into the ranks of the multitude who follow
tradition rather than truth. Certainly, it is not anger
which moves me when I see such persons ; but rather
pity. They do not properly belong to us, though they
should coincide mainly with us in doctrine. On this
account, indeed, it would be better for themselves to
be with us. But seeing that we are a witnessing body
as well as a worshipping body, — seeing that we are a
body of worshippers bearing testimony to a paramount
truth, now obscured by the prevalent ecclesiastical
creeds, it requires minds of a certain measure of cou-
rage to stand in our ranks. An Unitarian vf or shipper
must be one who can stand firmly on his own feet, so
to speak, in a general community like ours. Now,
the number of persons in any community who can stand
thus firmly on behalf of their own convictions, is never
very large. Men are prone to think and act in masses.
We are all prone to yield to the social pressure around
ns. Sequaciousness is the rule. Simple indepen-
dence, which calmly seeks the truth for its own sake,

20 v/^^,'" ''-'"V ■',,;;:,,.■ SERMON I. ...••;^^v:. .^^, . '

and openly avows it, though it should be found on the
side of the few rather than on that of the many, is
much more rare. "VYe must not be surprised, there-
fore, if we should not increase in numbers as rapidly
as some other ^worshipping bodies. Such increase is
not to be expected under the circumstances. At the
same time it should be carefully kept in mind that our
quiet fidelity, moral eourage, and religious devotion,
while bringing ourselves the blessing and joy of duty
fulfilled, will be helpful to others also. Our light
will be to them a light — a light leading them, likewise,
to glorify our Father in heaven, by bearing open testi-
mony to his truth, and yielduag a glad obedience to
his law. ' ^ '

In judging of our present condition, we must look
to what is outward and visible, and take it into account.
But there is more than this to be considered in making the
full estimate. Our grow- th in personal refigion is the chief
thing to be regarded. All outward instrumentalities and
all visible results are to be judged, as to their value, by the
effects in character and life of the living souls concerned.
Are we who w orship here draw^n nearer to God as the
years pass over us ? Are we growing into closer con-
formity with the mind and life of Jesus Christ ? How
is it with us as members of society and members of
the household ? — As citizens and traders ? — As parents
and children ? — As masters and servants ? — In these
various relations and spheres of activity are we indeed
seeking to do our part as Christians ? In the various
duties and responsibihties thereof, are we sincerely

TWENTY AND FIVE YEARS.

striving to put our Christianity into life, and thus let
our light shine ? These, my friends, are the questions
which will try us. They are the questions which must
ultimately determine the value of all religious institu-
tions.

Whatever changes may have come across my mind
during the last twenty-five years, with regard to the
relative prominence to be given to one or other doc-
trine of Christianity, no change has taken place as to
the value of Christianity itself as a saving religion for
man. I have preached the gospel as an authoritative
declaration of the divine mind made through Jesus as
the Messiah and messenger of the infinite and loving
God, his Father and our Father, his God and our God.
I have preached Christ as the manifested way and truth
and life ; as the mediator between God and man,
through whom, by his teaching, spirit, and life, man is
to be redeemed from the power of evil, delivered from
S'n, and lifted up into reconciliation and union with
God. And this, God helping me, I propose still to
continue to preach. My conviction of the supreme and
inappreciable value of this simple and subUme gospel,
so reasonable in all its doctrines, so quickening in its
spirit, so practical in its operation, and so elevating in
its whole influence and aim, grows deeper year by year.
And it would be my highest satisfaction if I could
deepen your convictions, likewise, to this effect.

For the generous consideration you have invariably
given to my failings in the ministry of this place, I
have now to thank you. Nor does it become me to

22 SERMON I.

speak harshly of yourg. You have made ready allow-
ance for the peculiarity and isolation of my ministerial
position here. You have kept in mind the difficulty
of such a position, and never have demanded the tale
of bricks where there was no straw. "\Ye have no
other Unitarian congregation as near neighbors. But
looking at those least distant from us, we have seen
several ministers settled and unsettled during the last
twenty-five years. Frequent changes in the ministry
is the rule on this continent. Now, I hold that often-
times an advantage may accrue to all parties from a
change of pulpit ministration. Tinder certain circum-
stances, a change in his sphere of labor may be useful
to a mi^iister, and a change in the pulpit may be use-
ful likewise to the pews. But of this I am well assured,
that it is never well for a congregation to be for any
lengthened period without a settled minister. Except
in very rare cases, all its interests are sure to suffer.
It is more wise, therefore, to avoid such changes,
especially on the outposts of our faith. This consider-
ation has weighed very much with myself, in relation
to this congregation. J^othing in your conduct to-
wards me could have ever induced the thou2:ht of a
change ; although the weakness and weariness of my
own frame may have sometimes suggested it. The
opportunities which have been presented to me for
making a change, have always been met by a deci-
sion against it, without any hesitation on my part.
And now, at the end of twenty-five years, I can say
that I am entirely satisfied with the course I have

TWENTY AND FIVE YEARS.

taken on such occasions ; entirely satisfied witli my
decision to remain here and labor among you in this
place.

Twenty-five years of my life of active uscfiiluess
have now been passed here. None of us dare look
forward to twenty-tive years more ; nor is it wise to
speculate on the future with any approach to confi-
dence. The present time, only, is ours. I would
urge you, therefore, as I would urge myself, to renewed
fidelity in the present time. Let us all bear in mind
that our Heavenly Father ever giveth a good future
to those who use the present well. As individual living

. souls we have a j^rospect before us, sure and uni\iiling
— a prospect of joy and life eternal to those who live
faithfully according to their light, in the love and spirit
of Jesus Christ. As a congregation and worshipping

' body of Christian disciples, we have an encouraging
prospect before us, if we are simply true to our organi-
zation and to our distinguishing principles. The best
and most progressive tendencies of the age are in our
favor. And it only requires that we should be duly
alive to the significance of our distinctive mission as
Liberal Christians, — Christians, I mean, who give a
liberal and generous interpretation to the gospel, as
opposed to a narrow and contracted one, — to ensure
good success for our society under the blessing of God.
And if we are thus alive to the value of our faith and
privileges, and true to our trust in relation thereto,,
our worshipping body will grow in strength, and abound
in promise, year by year. To this end there must be^

24 - SERMON I.

an active and generous co-operation as between minis-
ter and people, and among the people themselves ; — a
co-operation carried on in a willing, ready, earnest
and forbearing spirit, with a single eye to the welfare
of the whole body, rather than for the satisfaction of
any particular person or persons. Such a co-operation
will lead to a ready surrender of self-will, and a glad
acquiescence in any measures deliberately adopted by
the general body. Thus working in the bonds of the
charity which never faileth, the demon of discord can
find no place among us, and the angel of concord will
be our helper. Hope will grow and faith will be
strengthened, where charity thus dwells. And with
faith, hope, and charity abounding, the years, as they
come and go to ourselves and to those who may succeed
us here, w^ill find all growing with a hopeful and joyful
growth, — growing "up into him in all things, which
is the head, even Christ ; from whom the whole body
fitly joined together. . . , maketh increase of the body
unto the edifvmo; of itself in love."

SEEMON II.

: REPENTANCE TOWARD GOD. ^ ,;

"Testifying both to the Jews, and also to the Greeks, repentance

toward God."— Acts xx. 21.

The apostles of Christ were men who made a deep
and permanent mark upon the world. They scored
the purpose of their mission deep into society, by
touching the hearts and moving the affections of those
whom they addressed and among whom they labored.
And this, because they were themselves vital with the
doctrines which they proclaimed. These doctrines
did not lie in their minds as dead traditions or merely
inherited opinions, like so much merchandise in a
warehouse, to be retailed out as opportunity served.
No. They were living forces in their souls as all
truly received doctrines are — part and parcel of their
life, and urging them to a communication thereof as
an inevitable condition of their being. They could
not be silent. They could not be idle. They were
filled with the Holy Ghost, and these doctrines were

26 • SERMON II.

the spirit's forces •working within them, urging them
to speech and to activity.

Look at the apostle Paul. If ever there v,^as a man
who made his doctrine his life, surely there he is. In
the book of Acts, and in the epistles which bear his
name, we find some passages so obviously vital, that
if we were to puncture them we should expect them
to bleed. We see at once that it is no dry and formal
teacher, repeating dead opinions and traditions, who
stands behind the words uttered there, but a man who
expresses his own inmost life. Head the passage be-
fore us, and note the context. Note that meeting
and that parting. And note the sum of the testimony
wdiich he bore in his teaching at Ephesus : — '' Eepen-
tance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus

Christ." --■'.-^^^>.;-': : -^ "-'•:^:,,.;V:\;;/';,';'-:|S

These were the doctrines which moved the mind,
filled the heart, and worked in the soul and life of the
great apostle. To say that he saw and felt the
paramount need of urging them would be superfluous,
because it is so evident. We are to consider one of
the two now — I mean ^' repentance toward God."
The other we shall consider in the next discourse.

Eepentance, you know, signifies a change of mind
or purpose. And " repentance toward God," signi-
fies a change of wind Godward. Now, whatever
there may have been special in the apostle's time to
call for a pressing presentation of this doctrine, it
would be a great mistake to suppose that no necessity
remained for it in our time. Repentance, rightly

REPENTANCE TOWARD GOD. 27

understood, is a needed doctrine for all times. And this
permanent necessity comes from the simple fact that
at all times there are men — multitudes of men —
whose minds are turned toward something else rather
than God. The apostles had to deal with Gentiles
degraded by the worship of pagan deities, and Jews
who were sunk in formalism and national pride. And
in view of these things doubtless they felt called upon
to urge men/rom all such idols and forms, to the God
who alone was the true God and the living God.
Such a change /ro??i and to was, of necessity, the fiist
call of the gospel ; yea, it was the preparatory note
sounded by the forerunner of the Lord. The word of
the Baptist was: ''Repent ye, for the kingdom of
heaven is at hand." But idolatry and formalism come
stealthily on men in every age, and in various shapes.
In Christendom we no longer see the visible idolatry
of Athens or Ephesus, or the special formalism of the
Pharisee of Jerusalem, drawing the minds of men
away from the living God, and drying up the sources
of the divine life. Idolatry now takes other forms,
and formahsm assumes other shapes. In our age
men look to earthly Success and follow it as a God.
They hold by barren traditions and usages, and allow
these to stand in the place of a vital relation and
conscious union with the Highest. Thus are men
turned away from the Infinite Father — their most
earnest look set in another direction, and the work of
their hands following the sight of their eyes. Their

28 * SERMON II.

most eager tliouglit and most persistent activity are
directed otherwise than Godward.

What a mystery is the life of man ! It is a mystery
strange and solemn. From the hour he opens his eyes
to the light, to that in which he closes them for the
grave, he shows himself the subject of inward forces,
whose intricate workings baffle our most curious inves-
tigations. When the fearful power of will is put
forth — that power so pregnant of results for w^eal or
woe — we see the token of a moving force within, on
which depends more than can well be named in words.
And how these inward forces clash and war, making
the soul a battle ground more awful than any out-
w^ard Marathon or Marengo. The good we would,
that we do not ; the evil which wx Avould not, that we
do. The inward conflict — here it is — between the
good and the evil. Away through all the chambers
of our being the sound is heard, and in the soul of a
great and earnest man — a Paul, an Augustine, or a
Luther — the echoes thereof roll in tones of thunder,
utterly forbidding peace or rest until the evil be sub-
dued and the Godlike victory won.

Take the lives of the mass of men, and consider
them. Are they peaceful, serene, joyous, noble, in
sympathy with all that is true, pure, lovely, and of
good report, and willingly devoted to such cause as
their leading work ? A question like this carries its
own answer. We see that men's lives are not so.
We see that they are filled with anxiety and unrest,
and their prominent activity turned in another direc-

REPENTANCE TOWARD GOD. 29

tion. Do any of you demur at this account of the
matter, as unjust to humanity ? I have no justifica-
tion tu render, other than what common observation
and experience aiford. I would appeal to the objector
personally. Is he always undisturbed and at ease ?
Are his sympathies and activities uniformly directed
to what is highest, purest, holiest, noblest, best?
Who among us will say that this is his condition ?
Are not the best of us troubled by conflicts within,
and do we not sometimes get weary in well doing ?
And, Oh, the deep sleep of indifference which falls
upon many of us and multitudes of nominal Christians
everywhere — the deep sleep of indifference in what
relates to God and things Godhke ! Away we go
with swift and ready feet after our idols. In office
and workshop, in store and counting-house, in business
and politics, we render our worship thereto. But as
to a clear and adequate discernment of the living
God, and of his paramount claim of service on every
thinking faculty and every working power, we have
it not. This sleep of indifference deepens the longer
it is left undisturbed. While in other directions the
man is awake and active ; toward God his eyes are
closed and his hands idle. r -4

Hence the need of repentance. Hence the press-
ing need of change of mind Godward. The face
must needs be set in a new direction, a new purpose
must needs fill tlo soul. With mind darkened and
heart ahenated, man cannot live for the kingdom of
heaven. While apart from God we walk in sin, and

30 SERMON II. •

every day "we cherisli the sin, the veil of separation
thickens. Our daily life may not lack interest and
enjoyment. The prodigal had a certain delight in his
Avay of living -while he was spending the substance of
his patrimony in riotous pleasure. But we all know
the issue — the ultimate emptiness, unrest, and woe.
And there is many a man and woman to-day, who, in
their daily courses, think they can set God and all the
distinctive claims which he has upon them aside, and
pursue their own way without let or hindrance. But
man or woman can never cheat God, nor evade the
force of his supreme, all-comprehending law. The
emptiness, the unrest, the woe are in store for all
such neglect and indifference, and for every form of
sin. AVe are not to measure the amount of our trans-
gression to find out whether we are sinners. One act
of sin makes a man a sinner, because it is an offence
against the authority of the Infinite Majesty. The
repetition of such acts, as I have already intimated,
hardens and bhnds us, and sets our thoughts and
activities more decisively in a false direction.

The faithful needle swings ever to its pole. Dis-
turb it as you will, its tendency is still the same. Let
the shock of the winds and the shock of the v/aves
come, it is always true to its cardinal point. Falsify
it — for you may falsify it — and it no longer points to
its pole, but to some other quarter. What is now to
become of the ship ? Currents of winds and currents
of waters press her. Shall she fill her sails and speed
swiftly and gaily over the waters, yielding to the

REPENTANCE TOWARD GOD.

readiest and pleasantost currents ? Or shall she trim
her sails, and press her rudder to obey the falsified
needle ? In either case she is away from lier haven,
and playing fast and loose among shoals and rocks.
The faithful needle is the type of the true soul ; as the
falsified one is the type of the soul that is off on some
other quest than the quest of God. Oh, men and
women, I beseech ye to mark the difference. Let us
look into our own hearts, and mark what is the reign-
in ^^ love there. Let us observe whither our thou;2;hts
most readily and most directly tend. Let us note the
prevailing direction of our activities. Is the love of
our heart, is the thought of our mind, is the work
of our hands toward God, or toward something else ?
Every point in a circle has a point directly opposite.
Airainst the north stands the south. Against the east
stands the west. Every other point in the circle is
nearer the north than the south point is. He whu
runs easterly or westerly w^ill not have so far to turn
to come north as he who runs southerly. Yet if he
persists east or west, while his safe point is north, he
will go wrong and be wrecked as surely as he who runs
south. Eepentan^e toward God — a change of mind
Godward — herein lies our hope and spiritual safety.
I he farthest off wanderer will have most to change in
his actual course, the nearest, least. But all will have
the radical change to make — the radical change from
the wrong course to the right one, from false to true,
from evil to good, from some transient and illusory
idol to the livino; God.

32 • ;',.- SERMON II.

V But how change ? Can the drifting ship right her-
self ? Never, certainly, while her company is uncon-
scious. Man away from God on some mere earthly
quest, cannot come back to him until he becomes con-
scious of liis wandering and sin. And it is a most
gracious provision of the infinite mercy that this power
of consciousness never utterly quits him. The dissar
tisfaction is felt. The heart yearns. The conscience
speaks, sometimes loud, and sometimes only in a
whisper. In this gracious provision of our nature, we
see the turning point of our hope and safety. Hereby
the loving God still furnishes the straying soul with a
line of guidance to bring it out of the labyrinth of sin.
The Father still calls the wanderer. It was for his
benefit that Christ came. Not to call the righteous,
but sinners to repentance, the Lord Jesus entered on
his mission. The voice of the Infinite Love is ever
sounding in our ears. " Have I any pleasure at all that
the wicked should die ? saith the Lord God : and not
that he should return from his ways and live ?" —
QUzek. xviii. 23.) The Supreme Majesty of the universe
appears as the Father of men, willing and waiting to
receive every wanderer who sincerely turns his face
toward him.

It is the goodness of God that leadeth to repen-
tance. (^Rom, ii. 4.) This is the motive force manifested
first in that provision of our nature by which we
become conscious of sin and alienation from God, and
then in all the displays of goodness which the universe
presents. Consider these as manifested in man, in his

REPENTANCE TOWARD GOD.

varied gifts and endowments ; and in nature around us,
— in the wondrous beauty and bounty of the external
world. Then there are the disclosures of divine
favor or grace, as made known in the Gospel, and
illustrated by Jesus in his parable of the prodigal
son. " Herein we have the simple and touching doc-
trine of Christ himself, concerning reconciliation with
God, or atonement. " God commendeth his love
toward us," writes the apostle, " in that, while we
were yet sinners, Christ died for us," (^llom, v. 8,) that
is, he died on our behalf, not in our stead. God
demands no innocent substitute for the guilty sinner.
Theologians, who presume to pronounce what God
ought and must demand, give him a substitute. All
this, however, is man's invention, not God's require-
ment. It was not to make penitence in man produce
a forgiving disposition in God that Christ died. That
forgiving mind is eternally inherent in God, ready to
go forth to the prodigal as soon as penitence is felt
within him as a moving force. And it was to produce
such penitence in man that Christ died. The spectacle
of the cross, devoutly regarded, stirs our profoundest
sympathies and subdues the soul unto penitence. It
stirs that " godly sorrow which w*orketh repentance
unto salvation." (2 C<9y. vii. 10.) J

From the depths of penitence the soul rises to a new
life. Through the divine process of repentance it
reaches renewal. With its look set toward God, it
sees all things in a new light. No longer running in
a wrong direction, it no longer darkens its view by its

V 1 * SERMON II.

jwn shadow. Self and selfishness no longer obscure
Its vision, while it keeps its eje straight on the infinite
ruth and goodness. The weight of sin set aside, it is
)orn to new freedom and new joy. It goes out to its
daily work in a new spirit, and so toils in warehouse or
elsewhere, that its very work becomes a worship,
where, before, it was in sheer neglect of God, and
rebellion. ,

Paul's first call to Jew and Gentile was " that they
should repent and turn to God, and do works meet
for repentance." (Acts xxvi. 20.) With a sincere
change of mind toward God comes a change of ways.
The course of the earthly life is guided by a landmark
divine. Selfishness, neglect, earthliness of mind, the
pettiness of folly and the meanness of every form of
sin are by the process abjured and set aside ; and the
beauty of holiness and heavenly mindedness, of divine
love and service, and of the wisdom which is from
above, distinctly recognised. Penitence is not mere
sorrow, as the sorrow of the world. Genuine repen-
tance is not marked by downcast eye and relaxed
hand. It looks steadily to God, and becomes strong
and well resolved. Penitence, indeed, is a sorrow,
but a sorrow for sin, a godly sorrow, a refreshing
sorrow, a strengthening sorrow. It is this which
worketh the repentance unto salvation — the repentance
that is not to be repented of. It is this which lifts a
man up to serenity and peace. God's ear is ever open
to hear the faintest sigh. God's spirit pervadetli all
space, concentrating itself with special power to raise

REPENTANCE TOWARD GOD.

ancl rejoice every seeking heart. God's hand is
always ready to help and lead the soul that looks to
him. Truth, rectitude, holiness and love, these are
the ways in which the renewed soul delights to walk.
Looking over the wide domain of the earth it sees in
every department of earth's work a sphere wherein
God is to be served and glorified.

It is here and now that we are called to repentance
and service. I can scan no man's heart to know what
measure of change he needs. But this, we know,
that wherever the ruling aim of life is apart from
God, there the call presses for a change. And there
the call is for to-day^ not for to-morrow or any time
future. Now is the accepted time — now the day of
safety. Procrastination is self-deception and treason
to the soul's supreme interests. How uncertain is the
earthly life of man ! A warning this that we should
be faithful to-day to the work: here given us to do.
Twenty or thirty lives were extinguished last week by
a crash on one of the running railroads. Doth not
God speak to us all in calamities like this? And
home to our own city a few days since, were the bodies
of four young men brought, who on last Sunday were
as well as wx are to-day, and as likely to live for many
years to come. For more than an hour, we are told,
they struggled for Ufe amid the boisterous waters, but
at last, yielding, they sank in death. I ask not what
the retrospect of any one's last hour was who may
have been suddenly called away, it is too sacred for
mortal scrutiny. But, my friends, young and old

36 - SERMON II.

suppose such a lot ours before to-morrow's sun should
rise, -what -would be the character of our retrospect ?
It has been said, you know, that before the vision of
the dying, in such circumstances, the whole of life is
gathered up in miniature, so that it can be discerned
at a glance. In such a case, my younger friends, how
would it appear to you ? And my elder friends, how
would it appear to you ? What has been your ruhng
aim in life heretofore ? What is your ruling aim of
life to-day ? Has the leading thought of your mind
been toward the great and loving God, or toward some
other thing — some earthly and perishable idol ? These
are questions that any one may suggest, but no one
an answer them for another. These are the questions
upon which the most tremendous issues of human ex-
istence depend. There is but one way to life, one
path to joy, one avenue to glory celestial and eternal,
and this is found only through change of mind toward
God, and serving him with single eye and with loyal
and loving heart. ,. ...

■i -.r^^-

- i '■:

SERMON III.

FAITH TOWARD CHRIST.

" Testifying faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ."— ^c?* xx. 21.

It is sometimes said that the age of faith is past. This
is said by a class of persons whom I cannot regard as
the most comprehensive or profound in their way of
thinking. It is said the age of faith is past, and now
the age of reason has come. But it is a mistake to
suppose that reason can supersede faith. Faith and
reason abide together in the nature of man as mutual
helpers. If it were said that the age of blind faith is
past, I should say, with all my heart, be it so. But
blind faith is not faith proper. It is superstition. It
was blind faith which prevailed in Christendom some
centuries ago, when the human mind in general was
enveloped in darkness ; not a proper or intelligent faith.
It surrendered itself without questioning to a humanly-
devised authority which did not hesitate to contravene
and contradict reason. Such a state of things could

38 • SERMON III.

no longer exist when the intellect was emancipated
through the invention of printing, the revival of learn-
ing, the reformation of religion, and the more general
diffusion of letters among the masses of the people.
We can never dispense with faith. But it must be
guided by reason in its exercise. Faith is an integral
part of our nature. We act upon it every day in our
daily living. Every one of us has his arrangements
specially made or tacitly understood as to what he
shall do on the morrow. Now all this is based on
faith, for we have no positive proof that the sun will
rise to-morrow at all. This may be the last day of
earth for aught we can know positively. We have
faith, however, that is, we have a settled rehance that
it will rise to-morrow, because we have known it to rise
every day in our past experience, and we have no rea-
son to suppose that it will cease to rise with this day's
rising. I say then, that it is a mistake to depreciate
faith with the view of elevating reason. Reason and
faith abide together as twin helpers in building up the
fabric of man's moral and religious life.

Faith has a two-fold meaning, which it is needful to
keep in view. There is a faith which signifies belief,
and a faith w^hich signifies trust. The one is of the
intellect, and reached by logical process ; the other
is of the heart, and comes by another and nearer way.
Faith, as applied to Christ, carries this two-fold mean-
ing. In one form it signifies belief in propositions con-
cerning him, or a mere historical faith. In the other
form it signifies trust in a living person, or proper re-

FAITH TOWARD CHRIST. 39

ligious faith. The first meaning of belief in Christ,
as understood in the early apostolic times, was the
belief in Jesus of Xazareth as the promised Messiah of
the Jews, and the acceptance of him as such. This is
evident from the scope of the early apostolic preaching.
*' Therefore, let all know assuredly," said Peter, '-' that
God hath made this same Jesus both Lord and Christ."
This belief was produced in the first age mainly, or to
a large extent, by the wonderful works which Jesus
performed. He himself appeals to these works as
proof of the divine character of his mission. '' The works
that I do in my Father's name," said he, " they bear
witness of me." (^John x. 25.)

But a faith of this kind is not an efficient faith.
Belief in propositions concerning Christ, whether pro-
duced by appeal to his works or to his words, has but a
secondary influence upon the life. To the discerning
mind of this age his words are felt to be a greater
power than his works. But the faith which is efficient
comes from sympathy with the spirit and life of Christ,
and abiding love of him through this sympathy. Such
faith merges into trust and becomes identical there-
with. It merges itself into a trust of the soul toward
him which sways the inner nature and active life of the
disciple. This faith in Christ, as way and truth and
life, is what redeems the soul from the power of evil,
and saves it from sin and the consequences of sin. We
understand what it is to have trust in a skilful physi-
cian. In our bodily sickness, having faith in him, we
surrender our own will and desire, and follow his pre-

40 ' SERMON III.

scription, guided hj his advice and order. Now when
in things spiritual we are ready to surrender will and
desire freely to Christ, as the great physician of the
soul, then, and not till then, will he properly become
and be to us a Savior and Redeemer.

Here I would ask you to note carefully the differ-
ence between behoving in Christ and believing propo-
sitions about him. Thousands of souls and tens of
thousands have been bewildered and made weak, tossed
to and fro among logical formulas and theological sub-
tleties through failure to make this distinction. We
naturally desire to know all we can about Christ, and
theologians have undertaken to instruct us. The re-
sults of their investigations are presented to us in
various forms and enforced with various measures of
sanction and authority. Do we ask what shall we do
to be saved ? The theologian, speaking in the interest
of his party, is not content with saying believe on the
Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved. He will
insist likewise that we believe in certain propositions
about Christ, which are the results of his own investi-
gations and inferential reasoning. He will say be-
lieve in Christ as God the Son, second person in the
trinity, or believe in Christ as vicarious sacrifice, for
it is thus only that thou canst be saved.

Now we must observe that belief in such proposi-
tions concerning Christ, is a different thing from simple
belief in him as a living person whose life shone as a
light in the world for our spiritual guidance and de-
liverance. When the ship at sea off our northern

FAITH TOWARD CHRIST.

coasts is enveloped in fog, the sound of the warning
bell pierces the density to proclaim the danger which
lies closely in the way. In such case the safety of the
ship is not to be found in any theory or belief which
her company may hold concerning the composition or
the construction of the bell. On such matters there
may be diversity of belief. Clearly the ship's safety
lies in her giving due heed to the sound of the bell
and shaping her course accordingly. When a benight-
ed company of travellers, lost and bewildered in the
shifting sands of an Asian .desert or the drifting snows
of an American wilderness, sees through the darkness
a shining light which promises guidance and relief from
the peril of their position — thus bew^ildered and lost,
their safety does not depend on any theory or belief
which they or any of them may have concerning the
antecedent condition or origin or nature of the light.
Their safety lies in simply following the guidance of
the light until they reach the relief and safety which
it indicates. So it is with respect to Christ and theo-
ries about Christ. We must distinguish between them,
and take care not to confound the one with the other
when we come to the matter of the faith which saves.
I do not deny the importance of knowing all we can
about Christ, and having fixed views and settled theo-
ries concerning him, his office and his work. On the
other hand, I affirm that such fixed views are needful
to an intelligent behef in him. Our spiritual safety,
however, consists not in believing such theories, but
simply in believing in him. .^ .^.,.. ,., .

42 - ' SERMON III.

Farther, let us consider what faith in Christ is in
its amphtude and significance to us, his disciples at the
present day. I say, then, that it means a due recog-
nition of the whole Christ, and heartfelt trust in him.
You may ask why I say the whole Christ. My friends, I
say so, because it is quite common to have a fragmen-
tary Christ presented to the Christian believer. How
often may we hear it stated that it is the dying Christ
alone that is to be relied on for salvation, — thus leav-
ing out of view the light of the divine life Avhich Jesus
lived on earth. This trust in a fragmentary Christ is
too common throughout Christendom. The dying
Christ is pointed to, and that one portion of Messiah's
manifestation is presented to induce all Christians to
look there, and rest there only. As against this mis-
take we must bear in mind that we are not authorized
in setting aside any portion of Christ's manifestation.
We are to have faith toward the whole Christ, faith in
him as teacher and example, light of the world and
guide of men, faith in him as image of God, faith in
him as dying Savior, and faith in him as risen Savior.

Yes, we are required to have faith in Christ, as
teacher and example, looking to his word as illustrated
in his life, and giving all reverent heed thereto. He
was set as exemplar and guide. The perfect manhood
is to be found in "the measure of the stature of the
fulness of Christ." (^Eph, iv. 13.) He is presented
as the type of perfected humanity, of humanity recon-
ciled to God and brought into communion with him —
the type, in short, of divine humanity.

FAITH TOWAIID CHRIST. 4B

We are likewise to have faith in Christ as visible
image of God. God in his absolute being no man hath
seen or can see. But in Jesus, his visible image, we
see the brisrhtest manifestation of God that can be seen
of men. In Jesus, as we see him going about through
the villages of Judaea and Galilee, uttering his heaven-
ly words and doing his wonderful works of power and
mercy, we see the great and infinite God whom the
highest human thought could never reach nor com-
prehend — we see him manifested, and brought within
such limitations as will enable man to form conception
of him, sufficient for all purposes of man's spiritual
guidance, help and safety.

And w^e are to have faith, also, in Christ as the
dying Savior. He died on the cross, the just on ac-
count of the unjust that he might win us and bring us
to God. We must, so far as we can, penetrate the
spiritual significance of that death on the cross, and
not allow our sensibilities merely to be moved by the
wounds of the body or the flowing of the blood. This,
indeed, is the very least part of the death of Christ.
Those representations of physical suffering which are
so commonly made use of to move our more superfi-
cial sensibilities are but poor devices to serve a poor
purpose. If we can discern the deep spiritual signifi-
cance of that death, it becomes a saving power to our
souls. If we can discern the self-surrender, the pure
sacrifice of love in that dying of the just on account of
the unjust, and if, by contemplating the spirit which
led thereto, we are induced to go forth in a like spirit,

44 rj' SERMON III.

bearing the stamp of that sacrifice upon our lives, show-
ing therein a wilhngness to do and suffer in the cause
of truth and duty, of God and man, although death
should stare us in the face — then, I say, we most
worthily interpret the death of Christ, and put our
faith therein to most fruitful use.

Then, again, we are to have faith in him as risen
Savior. For he not only died, but rose again from the
dead. The sealed sepulchre could not hold the Lord.
Most blessed assurance this to us ! " Because I live,"
said he, "ye shall live also." "I go to prepare a
place for you." This is his assurance to all faithful
souls.

Faith toward Christ thus involves and signifies a
heartfelt reception of the whole Christ. And it means,
besides, a heartfelt trust or soul's assurance in him as
the living and present Christ. We are so bound up
in sense that it is difficult for us to realize anything as
actually existing which is not apparent to sense.
Christ, since he ceased to move about, in human form
on our planet, has ceased to be visible to human eyes.
We must beHeve in him, nevertheless, as the living
and present Christ, spiritually discerned, and not mere-
ly as the past Christ of history. He lived in the past,
spoke his wonderful words and did his wonderful works
on earth eighteen centuries ago, was crucified on Cal-
vary, ascended into the heavenly sphere, and there he
still liveth. Our faith in Christ must be a faith in him
thus existing as a living Lord and present friend. We
are so shut up in sense, however, that it is difficult for

FAITH TOWARD CHRIST.

US to conceive, even, how it is that Christ should exist
in the spiritual world and have a spiritual connection
with his disciples now. But unless the Gospel is a
fable, the Christ that lived on earth in bodily form
eighteen centuries ago, lives in spirit to-day in the
heavens. Why should we limit spiritual existence with
the limitations that belong to our fleshly condition ?
The pure spirits of loving souls, who have departed
this life in Christ, still exist. Their death was only of
the body, from which the spirit disengaged itself to as-
cend to the higher sphere. And such spirits may be
very near us, even beside us this hour. They may
know all that we say and do, although we cannot dis-
cern them. And so doth Christ live, a present Lord
and friend to all disciples, to every one who seeks his
loving fellowship.

i- Consider a moment the moral effect, the spiritual
and practical power of such faith in Christ as I have
now indicated. There is no one who reflects upon his
own experience, who watches the motions of his own
mind, that does not know how lawless his thoughts be-
come and how lawlessly his imagination wanders hither
and thither into the most forbidden regions. Now
when we take Christ as a living master and present
friend, and have such faith in him as leads us to sur-
render our will to his law, and our souls to his gui-
dance ; then the full power of his pure spirit falls on
our spirit, illuminating our lives and chastening our
imaginations, " casting down every high thing that
exalteth itself agamst the knowledge of God," as the

46 ' SERMON III.

apostle saith, " and bringing every thought to the obe-
dience of him." (2 Cot, x. 5.) Moreover, every one
knows by his own experience how difficult it is, in the
common business of life, to adjust many apparently
trifling concerns to the clear satisfaction of the con-
science. For Christ has not given us a code of laws,
but he has sho\7n forth a hfe, through w^hich comes a
moral power and guidance. Hence we are sometimes
at a loss to know how we should act in this or that
emergency. Now, if we take Christ for guide, having
faith in him as living master and present friend, believ-
ing that he is looking on, so to speak, we may soon
reach a right decision in all such matters. There is
scarcely any perplexity that comes upon us, which we
may not adjust to the satisfaction of the conscience, if
we simply consider how Christ would look upon it.
And thus regarding ourselves as in his presence, and
acting clearly as in his view, we may feel safe in the
rule that whatsoever his pure eye would not sanction
is to be avoided under all circumstances. Then, again,
in times of temptation and trial, this faith in Christ,
this. trust in him as a present and living friend, fur-
nishes divine help and solace. For we know that he
was tempted as we are, yet without sin. We know,
too, that he was subjected to severe trial and anguish
of spirit, an anguish more deep and lacerating in his
case than in that of ordinary mortals with their duller
sensibilities. And yet in the time of his deepest an-
guish and severest trial, we know how ready he was
to say : " Father, not my will but thine be done."

FAITH TOWARD CHRIST.

And throughout our whole life this faith in Christ,
which is of the heart, this trust in him, if cherished by
us, will penetrate the soul to the centre of its being,
as an animating principle, moving it toward God and
all Godlike thoughts and deeds.

Faith in Christ, then, I say as I close, makes the
Lord's presence near, even here, and with us wherever
we go. We can pass into no condition, we can enter
no circumstances where that presence will not cheer
and bless us. In the open plain of active daily life it
will lead us about doing good. In the still garden of
suffering and sorrow it will inspire us to say : " Father,
not my will but thine be done." On the exposed
mountain of temptation, where the besetting adversary
suggests evil in the whisper of every passing wind, it
will strengthen us to rebuke the tempter and turn
with faithful worship of the soul to God. When the
cross of earthly neglect, disappointment or persecution
is placed upon our shoulders, it gives us courage to
bear it, as Christ did, although a Calvary be full in
view. And when the eye of flesh is closing to sight
^ of earth with all its joys and its sorrows, its hopes and
its fears, its projects and its prospects, it reveals to the
clear eye of the spirit the blessed realm of immortal
existence. Even when flesh and sense are weakest it
gives a victory which overcomes the world, nm^i i-j

i:.'-''\ }i>ty

SERMON lY.

THE GREAT COMMANDMENT

•' Jesus said, tbou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and
with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great
commandment."— 3ia<^ xxii. 37, 38.

Out of the heart of man, writes the Hebrew sage,
are the issues of life. And this saying of the sage is
verified by all human experience. We know that the
deepest and most effective springs of human activity
are to be found in the affections. The right direction
of these, therefore, becomes of the first importance
toward a proper order of life. The great and leading
w^ant of men is a ground principle of hfe, something
which shall abide with them as a perpetual root of
motive, putting forth its forces through the various
branches of thought, feeling and activity. Without
some such abiding ground principle for his help and
guidance, man is like a stray float on the broad river
of existence, sometimes tossed wildly over the rapids,
sometimes stranded helplessly on the shoal, and

THE GREAT COMMANDMENT. 49

sometimes projected into a false channel. Without
some such principle, life cannot have any proper com-
fort or satisfaction, for it cannot have any proper aim.
A life without a fixed purpose cannot be otherwise than
a wretched one. It is wretched even to the thought-
less man who does not recognise his want — it is
wretched, if for no other cause than this, that he can-
not recognise his want, nor be conscious of the gran-
deur, meaning, and capacity of a human life. To the
more reflecting man it must be still more wretched,
for he knows his want, and can scan the cause thereof
in his own feeble will, made feebler every day through
his own lack of fidelity. Let a man have his purpose
fixed and it gives steadiness to his bearing — it gives
him a positive character. I do not say that it elevates
him morally, for it is quite possible that his fixed pur-
pose may not have a high moral stamp upon it. A
ship may be steady on her course with rudder set
and sails filled, but if her compass be false she is only
sailing steadily to a wrong point or to actual destruc-
tion. So in life a man may be steering by a false
compass and in a false course — he may have all his
faculties strained, and his ruhng desires set, steadily
bearing on a false purpose — false, I mean, when con-
sidered as the leading purpose of a human fife.

But the moral safety or the moral ruin of a man
depends on the character of his life's purpose — on the
quality of his leading love. Show me a man whose
ground principle of action is base — whose purpose in
life is low, selfish and worldly — whose heart is set on

50 SERMON IV.

the transient shows of life, its vulgar fashions, ambi-
tions and aco^uisitions, and I see one who is pressing
to his own ruin. It does not in any wise mend
the matter to see him delighted in his success, and
confident in his course. This only serves to exhibit
his blindness more clearly, and reveal with more cer-
tainty the darkness of his moral apprehension. By
the eye of a larger and wider wisdom it is seen to be
the groundless confidence of folly, for it is the
ignoring, or setting aside of the vital realities of the
universe for the poor apparitions of an imagination
misled by the pressure of exaggerated and unlawful
desire. The first requisite of a man toward a safe
and elevated way of living, toward a noble and holy
life, is a ground principle of life which sets him face to
face with what is highest and best, noblest and holiest
in the universe — which unveils truth, justice and love,
and presents them in their most majestic and attrac-
tive forms — which unfolds all moral and spiritual love-
liness to kindle the soul's deepest and divinest desires
— which holds these high moral verities, these lasting
and most lovely spiritual realities, forever clearly in
view, and which by this unveiling and unfolding, this
kindling and quickening, this clear and unwearied
presentation, throws all that is base into the shade, or
lets light upon it only that its baseness may be more
distinctly marked ; and at the same time stimulates
to an effort that is untiring in the direction and for
the attainment of things so true, so just, so lovely,
and of such lasting good report.

THE GREAT COMMANDMENT. 51

This, I say, is the first requisite of a man toward a
noble and holy life. And we find it clearly indicated
in the answ^er of Jesus in our text : — " Master, which
is the great commandment?" Jesus said, "thou
shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all
thy soul, and -with all thy mind. This is the first
and great commandment." Here it is directly laid
down by the Lord Christ that love toward God is to be
the first command for our life-guidance — the ground
principle of life to men. From this come light,
strength, and joy to human life, hope, holiness and
everlasting safety. It is only through love to God
that we can render prompt and cheerful obedience to
the will of God. An obedience may be rendered
through fear, but this, we know, is not the highest
nor the most acceptable service. It is the obedience
of constraint, not the obedience of delight. An obe-
dience rendered through fear is an irksome service —
one that we would willingly avoid if we dare. An
obedience rendered through love is a glad service — a
joy and privilege we would not part with. The love
of God, then, comes to make life's burdens light. It
comes to make the way of duty easy. It comes to
make the path thereof bright with the joy of a free
and joyous service. It comes to lift all service of
God out of the sphere of compulsion, and place it in
the category of privilege. It comes as a holy spur to
our activity, rousing all latent and flagging energies,
showing them how they may work, and rejoice in their
work. It comes to bring man face to face with the

52 SERMON IV.

Father in filial confidence, and to open up the wide
field of the divine perfections as the anchorage of his
trust. It comes to bridge the chasm which separates
the finite nature of man from God's infinitude, and
supplies the ladder by which the heart of faith may
scale the heavens. '" •'

The mystics find their all in all here. Eesorting
to the writings of the loving disciple, they find in his
deep and mystical pages the meat and drink which
their souls hunger and thirst for. For there they
read of that new and wonderful birth of the soul
to God which Nicodemus could not understand.
(John iii. 5, 9.) There they read of Christ as the
bread of life to believers, which so many of his own
disciples stumbled at, and thought . an hard saying.
(John vi. 48, 60.) There they read of Jesus as the
vine, and the disciples as the branches. (John xv.
1-5.) There they read of that last prayer of the
Lord where he beseeches the Father '' that all the
disciples may be one, as thou. Father, art in me, and I
in thee, that they also may be one in us ; ... . that they
may be one as we are one." (John xvii. 21, 22.)
There too, in the Epistles, they read of God as love,
essentially and substantially ; there they read that
" love is of God, and every one that loveth is bom of
God, and knoweth God ; while he that loveth not
knoweth not God, for God is love." (1 John iv. 7,
8.) In contemplating these things, mystical persons
find their highest delight — a delight transcending all
other delights. By devoting themselves to such con*

THE GREAT COMMANDMENT. 63

templations, sometimes within cloistered walls, and
sometimes outside of them, sometimes under the sha-
dow of Catholic forms, sometimes under the shadow of
Protestant forms, and sometimes in total independence
of forms — hj devoting themselves to such contempla-
tions they seek to reahze and to feel their union with
the Infinite — they strive so to merge themselves in
God that all motions of self-will shall be annihilated,
and no motions of will known but those which beat in
ready and joyful harmony with the will divine. In
this search and effort Thomas a Kempis and Henry
More, Madame Guy on and EHzabeth Fry, stand on
common ground. In looking at the lives of such per-
sons and the ground principle thereof, we see the
peculiarities of Romanist and Protestant and Quaker
subordinated, and the life of love shining as the chief

mark. - _,.: .^ i >*v

That there is a broad and lasting basis of truth in
the mystical view of religion we cannot deny. Ante-
cedent to any apostolic writing, we find a warrant for
it in the nature and experience of the human soul as
manifested and set forth in the most ancient systems
of thought, philosophical and religious. Oriental and
Grecian. You will observe I do not say there was
Christian mysticism, but simply mysticism — a search
of the human soul for the Infinite — a longing to merge
all conscious existence in the great soul of the uni-
vei'se. And Christ came to shed light on the search,
and fill up the void for every sincere and seek-
ing spirit He came, bearing the highest message of

54 ... ^RMON IV.

love from heaven to earth, — he came, himself this
highest message of love, making known a God who
was essentially love, and inviting all men, wanderers
and prodigals though they were^ to come and taste of
the divine grace and mercy. He came teaching the
mystery of the new hirth of the soul to God through
an awakened love toward him — through the divine
spirit passing into its darkened chambers, and by the
purifying force thereof driving out all less worthy
loves and baser desires, and supplanting them with
motives drawn from the nature of God himself. He
came with the promise of the Holy Spirit to comfort
and guide, to uplift and sustain men, in all the cir-
cumstances of their earthly lot. He came showing
men how they might become one with him, and through
this become one with God ; — thus satisfying the
highest and widest desire of the soul by lifting it out
of the limitations of earth and sense, and installing it
in heavenly places where it may grow in God, and
rejoice in God for evermore.

The peril of mysticism comes from its shutting men
up too exclusively in contemplation. Religious con-
templation severed and kept apart from religious acti-
vity is fraught with danger. In this case it is as
likely to strangle love to God as to cherish it. If we
live for ourselves alone, thinking only of .our own
soul's condition and welfare, the love of self is likely
to keep as strong a hold within us as the love of God.
God, in his own nature and ways, links thought and
activity together, and marries love as a sentiment and

THE GREAT COMMANDMENT. 55

love as a principle of activity, so closely in one that
they cannot be put asunder. A proper love to God
leads to an imitation of God, and thus involves the
union of contemplation and action. God does not ex-
tend himself throughout the universe as essential love
contemplating himself and meditating his own happi-
ness. The love which is the central principle of his
nature works outward continually, and fills heaven
and earth with agencies and instrumentalities to confer
happiness and joy on his creatures. It writes itself
in the stars and upon the earth. It throws its forces
into the air which surrounds us, and into the ocean
which washes every continent. It builds up the won-
drous structure of the human body, and breathes vita-
lity into the more wondrous structure of the soul. It
comes in to adjust and control the disturbing forces
which human free will creates, and by going forth as
truth upholds it in perpetual beauty, and by going
forth as justice asserts its everlasting claim. It is the
fundamental and organizing force of what we call pro-
vidence, or that divine oversight and guidance which
presides over all affairs, and beneficently regulates
their issues. It was the originating motive, and is
still the central power of the gospel of Christ, redeem-
ing men from iniquity and winning them to heaven.
Thus doth God's love work — an active power in the
universe, creating all, upholding all, directing all and
blessing all.

As against the danger of a mere contemplative reli-
sion we have all the leadino:; tendencies of our ase and

56 SERMON IV.

country for helpers. The prevailing type of Ameri-
can life in this nineteenth century would never origi-
nate monasteries. It lifts warehouses and factories
and countinghouses into prominence, where men work
brain and body nigh unto death, not quiet cloisters
where they may repose apart from the common world.
The saints of our age must grow up amid the turmoil
of busy life, and exposed to the close and heated con-
tact of commercial competition, and their protection
against the varied perils of this busy life of commer-
cial competition must be found in the leading injunc-
tion of the Lord Christ to love God with heart,
soul and mind — to love God with such love supreme
as will expel from the heart the blasting passions which
the lust for power and gain creates, and which would
raise up Mammon as a rival there. When they come
to lay hold on this injunction for purposes of use —
when they come to draw it forth from the region of
undefined sentiment for purposes of practical appli-
cation — God rises before mind, heart and soul, as per-
fect truth, perfect justice, perfect purity, perfect love.
All these coalesce, and become incorporated in our
idea of God, and inseparable from our conception of
the great Father in heaven. To love him, therefore,
involves the love of these — the love of truth, of justice,
of purity, of love. It involves the love of these above
all things else. Thus intelligible, searching and com-
prehensive is the first and great commandment of the
Lord.

As a principle of life, this commandment has ob-

THE GREAT COMMANDMENT. 57

viously a twofold action. It operates negatively, as a
restraint from sin, and positively, as an incitement to
holiness. - v

It operates negatively, I say, as a restraint from
sin. For, consider God as absolute truth. To serve
certain purposes of convenience, we mark off truth
into classes or kinds, as truth mathematical, truth
moral, and truth religious, or truth as cognizable by
the intellect, by the conscience and by the soul.
And then, again, we have to mark off and distinguish
between truth absolute and truth relative, or truth as
it is in itself, and truth as it stands related to our con-
sciousness. But when we come to think of God, we
can only think of him as truth simple and absolute,
pervading all the realms of the universe, guiding all
worlds .and all systems of worlds in the exact line of
their orbits throughout infinite space, so that onward
they move throughout the ages — cycle and epicycle
unerring— the very types of everlasting truth in ever-
lasting motion. And this palpable truth in the phy-
sical domain of the universe is but the symbol and
shadow of the truth which prevails supreme in the
moral domain. Falsehood can have no existence in
connection with the thought or deed of God. He is
truth pure, perfect, absolute. Now consider for a
moment the negative effect which the love of truth in
this form would have upon us. It would be like a
sentinel in the inner temple, suspicious of every
appearance of falsehood, and challenging every ap-
proach thereof. It would be like a reserved guard

58 • .SERMON IV.

behind the sentinel, clearsighted, ready and powerful
to expel every intrusion of falsehood, no matter under
"what guise of expediency or profit it might come.
Thus would it act as a restraining power, keeping us
from all sins of falsehood, and leading us to oppose it
as the foe direct of God. As a restraining power it
would penetrate our daily method of living, shaming
us from falsehood everywhere, at home and abroad,
in trade and in politics, in all the relations and various
concerns of life. ^ ^ ;: . i - >i^?':^

Or, consider God as supreme and omnipresent jus-
tice, and consider farther the effect which the love of
this justice, lodged within us, would have in holding
us back from participating in that which is unjust.
In this case it takes up its post as sentinel likewise,
and becomes a reserved guard too. Through its in-
fluence conscience becomes thoroughly clearsighted
and tender, and wholly sanctified unto the Lord. It
fortifies us against the approaches and assaults of those
subtle forms of temptation which address themselves
to our selfishness, and thus gloss over the wrong. It
will not permit us to tolerate any tricks in trade,
any mean devices in politics, or the doing of any in-
jury to another in body, mind or estate.

Or, again, consider God as perfect purity, and con-
sider farther the effect which the love of this purity
fixed in our souls must have upon us. The grossness
of sensuahty retires before its divine pnd searching
glance. All forms of impurity and intemperance be-
come loathsome to us, and we shrink instinctively
away from them. To the pleadings of sensual desire.

THE GREAT COMMANDMENT. 59

the love of purity speaking from within replies with
Joseph of old, " How can I do this wickedness and
sin against God ?" - ,,_•....

Thus does the love of God act negatively, or as a
restraining power, keeping us back from the various
forms of sin. But besides and bevond this it has a
powerful positive influence in stimulating us to holi-
ness and righteousness of life. Its demands are not
satisfied by simply holding us back from falsehood,
injustice, impurity and the like, but it urges us to
seek truth, rectitude and purity of living — it urges to
seek and secure all holy and godlike virtues, so that
itself, the love of God, may become embodied in the
life of man. Through its leading and guidance we
are lifted from lower to higher, until we are brought
into union with God. ...

Call up once more the idea of God as absolute truth,
omnipresent justice and perfect purity, and consider
a moment the positive influence of the love of God —
of God, as identical with each and all of these — in sti-
mulating us to loyalty and reverence thereto. These
can no longer stand before us as indifferent matters.
They are identified with God, and disloyalty to them
is disloyalty to God. The love of God urges us to
loyalty, and is not satisfied short of the perfect service
of every faculty. Truth becomes a sacred thing in
our eyes, justice becomes sacred, purity of heart
and every like virtue become very sacred. These
things become the pearls of great price to be sought
and secured at all earthly sacrifice and earthly hazard.

60 SERMON IV.

We can no longer fall back in apathy or cowardice
from moral conflicts, or pause to consult our own con-
venience or inconvenience where the interests of truth
and justice are at stake. It is not because " honesty
is the best policy " that we will practise honesty, but
because honesty and every form of truth and justice
are of God, and to be sought and practised for their
own sake, and through love of him. Where this love
does not exist, to pause and consider in any matter of
moral conflict is to lose ground, for selfishness can ply
its arguments fast on the hesitating soul, and hold it
easily in thraldom. But where love is in the heart,
while we muse the fire bums, and we rise up with
souls freshly fortified, and desires newly kindled for
things true, just, and lovely. Amid evil report and
good report we pursue our search for these, patiently
encountering and bravely overcoming all opposition.
Earthly loss does not discourage us. Obloquy does
not alarm us. Prison doors carry no terror to our
hearts. We have the divine impelling force within, in
the love which caste th out fear.
i Some one, how^ever, may say, what is this but a love
of moral qualities ? I answer, it is just this — it is a
love of moral qualities in the infinite perfection thereof
— it is the love of supreme moral excellence, and I
aver that there can be nothing in heaven or on earth,
more worthy of love. But I answer farther that they
are not to be regarded as simply abstract qualities,
but attributes made concrete, and actively manifested
in a personal being. For man must have a personal

THE GREAT COMMANDMENT. 61

God. A God of mere abstract qualities— a God im-
personal — cannot be a God adequate to the wants of
humanity. And farther, still, I answer that it is in the
Christian idea of God as a Father we find the object
which wins most directly and forcibly upon our love.
The contemplation of an abstraction cannot make any
proper appeal to the aiFections. Nor can the contem-
plation of a distant being, seen merely in the light of
law, very deeply move the heart. The manifestation
of God in nature is impressive to the appreciating
spirit. Wonder steals upon the thoughtful mind as it
surveys the great and changing operations which na-
ture presents. And this feeling, I believe, never
wholly passes away ; I suppose no degree of familiarity
with nature can entirely cast this out. At the end of
a life-time we watch the bursting bud and opening
flower, instinct with life, with scarcely less wonder
than when in earlier years we first observed it. And
the eye of three-score years and ten, as it looks up to
the twinkling and living star — twinkling and living with
the fire of perpetual youth — sees in it a mystery as
great, or greater, than when first in infancy it gazed
upon that shining speck. How the spirit of man in
its best hours yearns to know the meaning of all this !
How the spirit of man in its most earnest moods has
sought to penetrate the meaning and solve the mystery
of the universe ! Hemmed in by its environments,
and baffled by its natural limitations, the human mind
in its impatience has sometimes beaten against the
bars of its cage until it fell back weak and helpless.

62 SERMON IV.

Th3 universe was radiant with meaning, but this met
with various interpretations, and no voice articulate
and audible came out from its depths to solve the
secret or settle the question. One mind saw in the
universe its own cause — saw no room nor occasion for
a cause beyond itself. It was at once the source and
product of its own energy. God there was none, un-
less we accept all things as God. Sometimes this
thought obtained expression as atheism, and sometimes
as pantheism — as a false pantheism I should say. For
when we speak of pantheism we should distinguish
that which is false from that which is true. The false
pantheism teaches that all things are God, but the
true pantheism is that God is in all things. " Of him,
and through him, and to him are all things," saith the
apostle. Another mind saw in the universe the re-
sult and product of a cause beyond itself, and con-
fessed a God — a God independent of the universe, and
the creator of the universe. The expression of this
thought is theism. The apostle writes it in this form :
" The invisible things of him from the creation of the
world are clearly seen, being understood by the things
that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead."
But this thought, again, was sometimes held as simply
accounting for the origin of things without reference
to any continued sustaining power or personal interest
of the Creator. Some held that God set the universe
in motion in some such way as a machinist sets a ma-
chine in motion, to be henceforth worked by its own
power and guided by its own laws. This view gives
the universe a distant Creator, and presents to the

THE GREAT COMMANDMENT. 63

mind of man an aggregation of fixed laws as the sov-
ereign disposer of humanity, and all that humanity can
recognise.

But none of these views can meet the natural wants,
the instinctive yearnings of the human race. Certainly
atheism cannot do it, which says there is no God. Cer-
tainly that pantheism cannot do it, which says that all
things are God, and personal God there is none. Nor
can any expression of theism do it, which regards God
as a Creator merely, and places him at a distance from
man ; or which presents an aggregation of known and
fixed laws merely, as the sovereign ruler of the uni-
verse. None of these views, I repeat, can meet and
answer the natural wants — the instinctive yearnings of
the race. For none of them present any object on
which the human affections can rest, and to which
they can cling. Until, therefore, the human race can
eliminate from its own constitution, and thoroughly
discard from its apprehension those afiections which
now form so large, so prominent, so essential and so
sacred a part of its being, it cannot accept or be sa-
tisfied with any of these views. But to eliminate these
affections from the constitution of human nature would
be to destroy its identity. So long, then, as the human
race exists, the existence of these, its inherent natural
affections, will bear testimony against atheism, against
pantheism, against any merely theistic views which
place God at a distance from man, or enthrone a body
of natural laws in the chief seat of the universe.
Can there be any reasonable doubt touching this

64 §ERMON IV.

matter ? I think not. It does not affect the root of
the question to say that some minds have rested in
these views, and that some minds still rest in them.
For in this case two considerations are suggested : —
1st. Whether there be not some peculiarity about such
minds which makes them exceptional ; — and 2nd.
Whether they do really rest in them, and have satis-
faction. In speaking of the wants of the race as a
whole we cannot allow the peculiarities of exceptional
minds to nullify the general rule. And then, again,
with respect to all who hold such views it is fairly to
be questioned whether they do indeed rest in them,
and find that satisfaction which their spirits seek. Ic
is fairly to be questioned whether the experience of
such persons, even under the most favorable circum-
stances, does not frequently bear witness to their de-
ficiency. Holding any of the forms of thought to which
I have referred, the serious mind must betimes feel
sadly perplexed in view of the universe, and the order
of events in human experience. Looking at the face
of nature in the gorgeous beauty of a summer day, or
the mild grandeur of a starry night, he may feel him-
self delighted and soothed, but then if all his thoughts
are awake and active he will remember that he is alone
and anomalous there — spiritually alone, I mean — that
tree and star cannot answer any of the deep questions
of his heart, and that the law which grows the plant,
and rolls the orb, cares nothing for him any more than
for the clod which he crushes under his foot. How
cheerless is this thought, and yet his view cannot lift

THE GREAT COMMANDMENT. 65

him beyond it. Standing in contact with any of the
more trying events of human experience — by the bed
of the dying, or by the bier of the dead — he can see
no meaning in the event, nor can he realize any help
to sustain him in the trial, or any consolation. It may
be that he sees no arbiter but a blind fate, or it may
be that he sees no ruler but a body of natural laws,
and by none of these is the mystery of bereavement
explained, or the pressing burden of sorrow lightened.
The heart sinks while the tear starts in the eye. The
whole soul cries out for some help, some light, some
consolation. But the cry is vain. No help, no light,
no consolation comes. The no-God of atheism, the
all-God of pantheism, the God of bald theism who is a
distant sovereign, the unswerving laws of nature, — at
a crisis like this — all these are alike heedless, all alike
dumb.

It is just here that the Christian idea of God shines
forth with signal splendor, and is seen invested with a
world of meaning. This idea is comprehensive, em-
bracing all the actual truth contained in the other
views, and much more besides. It contains, besides,
that which touches the heart, and interests the affec-
tions. It presents a most loving and attractive God,
and thus challenges and wins our love in return. Ac-
cording to the Christian idea, God is not a Creator
merely, not a Sovereign merely, not a Lawgiver mere-
ly, not all of these combined merely, but a Father
also. He is " God our Father," as the apostle so
often writes. Our Lord himself dwelt with special

06 . SERMON IT.

fleli^lit on this idea — in his intercourse with God con-
stantly addressing him by this close and tender name.
I do not say he was the first to proclaim it. The
Hebrews had it, and David out of the fulness of his
heart could cry : " blessed be thou Lord God of Israel,
our Father." (I Chron. xxix. 10.) God, to serve
ulterior purposes of his providence, revealed himself to
the Hebrew people by special methods, and the devout
hearts among them were touched with the filial feelings
and regarded him as a parent. Still this was not the
prominent idea of their religious system. Love to God
was, indeed, enjoined therein, but it is to be noted
that the first four books of the Bible were written
before the call to do so appeared in the Hebrew Scrip-
tures. It is in the last of the books commonly attri-
buted to Moses that the injunction to love God finds its
first record. In the Hebrew system the idea of God
aS Sovereign and Lawgiver was the prominent one ;
the leading idea of the Mosaic dispensation was that of
law ; while it is the distinction of the Christian dispen-
sation that its leading idea is that of love. Hence our
Lord did not so much set forth God as Sovereign and
Lawgiver, as the Parent of the human race — as a
Father impelled by his parental love to save his stray-
ins and sinnin"; children from woe and moral ruin.

This idea of God answers the deepest wants of the
race as none other can. When God is presented to
man as a parent, filled with a father's love for his
human offspring, he becomes an object on which our
best affections can rest, and to which they can cling.

THE GREAT COMMANDMENT. 67

He differs from the impersonal God of pantheism as a
living soul, beaming full with humane and active affec-
tions, differs from the tree or the star. He differs from
the distant or abstract God of mere theism, as a parent
who lights up his household with his personal presence
and love, differs from the sculptured marble form, or
from the carefully framed code of laws suspended
there. The soul that rightly recognises and accepts
this idea of God is relieved from doubt and perplexity
in view of the stern laws of the universe, and the try-
ing events of human experience. The soul rightly
imbued with the filial spirit finds, indeed, that the love
which comes therefrom is sufficient to cast out all fear
and every feeling akin thereto. A man occupying
his own stand-point in the universe may look upon
all the glories and wonders before him — he may look
upon the trees growing, the mountains heaving, the
ocean rolling, the orbs of heaven moving through space
in the fixed march of their magnificent order — he may
look upon all this, and instead of being oppressed
with the sense of his own littleness and spiritual lone-
liness, in presence of such rigorous and stupendous
operations, the thought of God as his Father inspires
him with a sense of greatness, and assures him of
spiritual sympathy and companionship. The earthly
mountains, vast as they are, the heavenly orbs vaster
still, which he looks upon, and can recognise, cannot,
either of them, recognise him — they cannot even re-
comse their own existence. In virtue of the living;
conscious spirit, then, which the Father breathed into

68 . SERMON IV.

him, Lis child — in virtue of the spiritual connection
thus established with the Creator of the material
universe, he feels himself greater than the material
universe. And the cold aspect of fixed and remorse-
less law which the universe presents is cheered and
warmed by the word of love which has sounded from
the central point of all being, saying : " behold a
Father is here who loves and cares for his children."
This utterance of love coming through Jesus, who was
the word incarnate — the highest expression of the
divine love, and completest embodiment of the divine
character ever manifested to humanity — gains strength,
distinctness, and widespread meaning from him.
" The glory of God shone in his face." So completely
did he show forth in his o^vn person the paternal char-
acter of God that he could say to his disciple " he
that hath seen me hath seen the Father." The man
who is profoundly penetrated with the divine meaning
of this revelation, though forsaken by every earthly
friend, though the whole human race were swept from
the surface of the globe, and not a heart left to beat
in sympathy with his own, could still stand in the
midst of the desolation and say, ' I am not alone ' —
'' I am not alone, for the Father is with me."

Thus have I spoken concerning the love of God as
a principle of life to man — the love of God as a God
of infinite moral perfection — of God as a God, personal
and paternal. I have just said that Jesus came to
show us the Father. He came so to exhibit the divine
character to men that their hearts might be won to

THE GREAT COMMANDMENT. 69

God, and to that blessed reconciliation with him which
is the redemption of the soul. He came, the imper-
sonation of the divine love, presenting God to our hearts
in the most attractive form, and calling on us to love
him who first loved us ; thus from his own divine
flame kindling the divine flame in human hearts. But
in noticing this we are reminded of another thought
which we must notice before we close. We are re-
minded that Christ, the beloved son of the Father
— the moral image of God to men — has identified him-
self with humanity — especially with humanity in its
weak and suffering forms — thus giving emphasis to his
declaration concerning his second great commandment
which he said was like unto the first. Here we see
how love to God as a principle of hfe immediately
touches all questions of social economy, and furnishes
a ready key to their solution. In view of the two me-
morable commandments of the Lord we may safely
gay with Pascal, that " two plain laws, the love of God
and of our neighbor, might be more efiectual in re-
gulating the whole Christian community than all poli-
tical institutions." (^Pasc. TJioughts xxviii.) Love
to man we may style philanthropy if we will. But it
is a branch of piety, having its root in the great cen-
tral point of all holy living, and standing before us as
an injunction of the Lord Christ. " Liasmuch as
ye did it unto the7n ye did it unto me;^^ and " in-
asmuch as ye did it not unto them ye did it not unto
me " are words of permanent and priceless worth, and,
standing on the record as they do, they should put to

SERMON IV.

silence all cavil against man-ward forms of pietj, and
shame away all lack of earnestness therein. In the
divine economy of the gospel, the weak, the poor, the
ignorant, the oppressed, the neglected, — these classes
of men can never for a moment be shut off from view.
If to serve any temporary purpose of social or political
expediency we are tempted to do so, just so far do we
shut off from view the Lord Christ himself — just
so far do we seek to annul the Christian message, and
show our disloyalty to its vital law. That love of God
which the gospel urges and insists upon, is no partial
or restricted sentiment, which works complacently
within traditional or conventional limits. It covers and
comprehends love to man as man. Its perpetual test
question is : if we " love not our brother, whom we
have seen, how can we love God whom we have not
seen ? " (I John iv. 20.)

Now may he, who hath all hearts in his hand, direct
and draw our hearts unto himself; and unto him, the
king eternal, immortal, invisible, the only w^ise God,
b3 honor and glory, through Jesr.: Christ, for ever and
ever. . -..,.. _..,;. ..-.

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SERMON Y.

THE BIBLE, THE RECORD OF A PROGRESSIVE
H . REVELATION. ■ -

" God, who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in time past
unto the fathers by the prophets, hath ia these kit days spoken unto us by
hisSon."— i/ei*. i.1,2. - "'^ ^- ' r '

Tee Bible is beyond our human praise. Its fruits
are its witness. It carries a light to enlighten, and a
power to impress humanity which have left their marks
deep and strong upon the world. Not only by those
who have regarded its contents with unquestioning ve-
neration, but by those, also, who have questioned every
line and criticised its contents with the utmost freedom,
has testimony been rendered to its wonderful excel-
lence and power. How its familiar words ring in the
ears of the successive generations, laden with comfort,
hope, strength and joy ! The generations have called
it blessed ; and a blessed book, indeed, it is. For it con-
veys a divine word uttered for human help and guidance
in what pertains to the greatest and gravest interests
which concern man. . ^ -^-^ -

72 SERMON V.

From the words of our text I propose to offer some
remarks on the Bible as the Record of a Progressive
Divine Revelation. Two modes of treatment are open
to me, a formal method and a way less formal. The
subject is too large to be satisfactorily treated in formal
order within the limits of a single discourse. If my
chief purpose, however, were to urge conclusions I
should be compelled to proceed formally, but as my pur-
pose is rather to excite enquiry I may follow the leadings
of my thought without reducing them to formal method.

The text is familiar and frequently cited : " God,
who at sundry times and in divers manners spake in
time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these
last days spoken unto us by his Son." And the utter-
ances of his prophets and his Son are on record for our
use in this volume, which we call the Bible. No volume
can have such claim on our regard as this one, and as we
value it, we should seek to reach an mtelligent appre-
ciation of its contents. Who honors the Bible most?
He who uses it blindly, without giving diligence in this
direction, or he who presses every faculty into this ser-
vice, and seeks to know truly what the will of the Lord
is ? When we find utterances in the Bible, which bear
clear marks of human infirmity and imperfection do
we honor it in any way, by blindly insisting that such
utterances are divine ? Do we not rather honor it when
with reverent and discriminating thought we distinguish
between the divine element in the Bible and its humaa
accessories, and thus divesting the divine word of such
perplexities, we have it in its simplicity to hide in our

THE BIBLE, A PROGRESSIVE REVELATION. 73

hearts ? And to this end, the tendencies of our best
modern thought are steadily setting. There is a moving
upon the face of the waters in this age, which is destined
to lift theology out of the chaos and confusion of obsolete
ecclesiastical formulas, and bring it more into harmony
with God's gifts of reason and love bestowed on man.
And this accomplished, humanity will rejoice with a
joy unknown before. With a science of God, i.e. a theo-
logy, brought into open and declared harmony with
the character of God and with God's gifts of reason and
love bestowed on man, ?:eligion will shine with a new
meaning in the world, and burn with a new force in
the hearts of men. Christianity, w^hich is a spiritual
religion, will then come to be spiritually apprehended.
Christianity, which is a universal religion, will then
come to be universally accepted. The spirit of schism
and sectarism — developing itself in Calvinism, Armi-
nianism, Congregationalism, Presbyterianism, Church-
ism, Wesleyanism, and the like — will then be broken.
And then may we look for the advent of the new
heavens and the new earth.

If we look for the topic which now most agitates the
English-speaking Protestant world, we shall find that
it relates to the Bible. What is the Bible and how is
it to be regarded ? What is the nature and measure of
its inspiration and authority ? These are questions
which are now uppermost, discussed in popular tracts,
in learned treatises, and brought into the highest
courts of the English realm. No questions can be of
graver import. During many years past they have

74 SERMON V.

been forcing themselves on public attention. They
have been long evaded or ignored by those who ought
to have met them, but the time for ignoring them is
past. How are they to be met ? I answer they ought
to be met honestly, and with an honest purpose of
serving the cause of truth rather than the cause of
tradition. Parties are widely separated in this dis-
cussion. And nowhere is the diflference of view seen
to be wider than among those who have signed the
same church creeds and articles of faith. The matter
stands thus : all concede to the Bible the highest
regard and veneration — all affirm that to it, more than
to any other book, the human race is indebted for
moral advancement and spiritual elevation. All con-
cede that it conveys to man a divine revelation of the
first importance to him for his present guidance and
eternal safety. But a marked difference exists as to
the character of the record itself, and the manner in
which the revelation is presented. Some maintain
that k inheres in the letter of the record by virtue of
a special inspiration infused therein, so that disregard
of the letter becomes disregard of the spirit. Accord-
ing to this view all portions of the Bible become of
equal value — the song of Solomon and the sermon on
the mount, the enumerations of the Chronicles and the
spiritual disclosures of the Gospel of John; Others
maintain that the value and virtue of the revelation do
not thus depend on the letter, but on something liigher,
deeper and more permanent than the letter, which is
an outward formula, liable to change, and which does

THE BIBLE, A PROGRESS 'VE REVELATIOX. 75

change in different lands and different ages of the
"vvorld. These affirm that the value and virtue of the
revelation lie in its exhibition and announcement of
moral and spiritual truth, which touches the deepest
nature of man and compels assent and admiration
there. According to the first view the Bible is spoken
of as tlie ivord of God, as if every phrase of the book
was articulated by God. According to the second
view the Bible is spoken of as containing the word of
God, as if it were the vehicle through which the high-
est expression of divine truth and love was presented
to man. And according to this view some portions of
the Bible will have more value for us than other por-
tions.

This is a controversy wliich concerns Protestants
<;nlv. And it is one which en(]rao;es all classes of Pro-
testants without distinction of sect or party. The most
thoughtful and the best informed are those which are
first agitated by such questions. And just in propor-
tion to the number of thoughtful and well informed
persons in any sect or party will be the attention given
thereto. Where mere emotion in religion prevails un-
duly, or where mere tradition is accepted as food suffi-
cient for the intellect, such questions will meet with no
hospitable treatment, but be bullied into silence or
scolded out of court as soon as they appear. The cry
will be infidelity, scepticism and so forth. But it is
the thought of thoughtful men, who spend themselves,
and are spent in the cause of truth, which God ever
smiles upon, and which in the end is destined to lead

T6 . SERMON V.

and lift the world. Thousands and tens of thousands
are well content to remain unpopular with man, and
be persecuted even as Jesus was, who came to bear
witness to a higher truth than the world then knew or
would receive ; these, I say, are well content to remain
unpopular with man all their lifetime, if so be thej may
help sow the seed of a higher truth, which is to bring
forth fruit on the earth long after God has taken them
to himself. In our own small body of religionists there
have been men of this stamp, who by their studies and
their writings have made us long familiar with ques-
tions and discussions which are now only beginning to
agitate the larger bodies of Christians through the
movements of the best, and best informed and noblest
minds among them. Professor Norton, of Cambridge,
New England, or any of our liberal teachers in old
England, might treat learnedly and thoughtfully on
the true grounds of the authority of Scripture in gen-
eral, or investigate the origin of the Pentateuch in par-
ticular, but the sound of their voices died away within
a '^■ery limited circle. But when years pass by and
learned Oxford professors of the Church of England,
and a Bishop of the same Church take up the discus-
sion and treat it with earnestness and learning and
manly vigor, behold the whole world is moved, and the
most sluggish lift up their voice and ask what all this
means ? The terrors of the law are held over the truth
seekers, and the persuasions of brethren the most reve-
rend are urged upon them, to stay the scandal ; but
the simple answer is, that truth must be served and not

THE BIBLE, A PROGRESSIVE REVELATIOX. 77

error, though it be in form of words ever so venerable.
They take substantially the same ground that Luther
took in his day. They demand reasons -vyhich will con-
vince them. They say, in effect, we will not yield our
convictions to such threats or remonstrances, but to
something more worthy of men and Christians. We
hold that we can justify our ground before God and
men. Let us see whether you can invaHdate it and
justify yours.

No books in our day have raised such stir as the
volume of " Essays and Reviews," written by several
thoughtful and learned members of the Church of Eng-
land on various subjects connected with theology and
religion. The number of replies and responses, pro-
tests and petitions, clerical charges and warnings, to
which they have given rise, has been quite overwhelm-
ing. From the character of the agitation raised within
the limits of traditional orthodoxy, it is easy to see
that the weak parts of this system have received a

/ damaging blow, and that, as a general thing, its advo-
cates have had their passions aroused, rather than their

"reason quickened into a clearer and more thoughtful
exercise. And before the theological storm raised by

' the volume of" Essays and Reviews," had much abated,
a Bishop of the English Church, by publishing a
small book on the origin of the Pentateuch, aroused it

^ to renewed vigor. That Jews should be very much
disturbed by the arguments of Dr. Colenso on this sub-
ject, is quite natural. It breaks down the Rabbinical
notion of the sacredness of the letter of Holy Writ and

78 SERMON V.

changes the relation of Moses, their Lawgiver, to the
first five books of the Bible. Bishop Colenso alleges
the fact that these " books of the Pentateuch are
never ascribed to Moses in the inscriptions of Hebrew
MSS., or in printed copies of the Hebrew Bible. Nor
are they styled ' Books of Moses ' in the Septuagint
or Vulgate, but only in oar modern translations."
(^Part 11^ ch, iii. s. 225.) Now this is statement of
simple fact, and his argument goes to show, on critical
grounds, that the traditional popular opinion concern-
ing the Mosaic origin and historical accuracy of
these books cannot be correct. Well, suppose it
clearly proved by the philological argument that
Moses did not write these books, and suppose it
proved by the arithmetical argument that certain
statements relating to numbers contained therein cannot
be correct, what then ? Has Christ, therefore, not
come into the world, or is the revelation of divine
love in his Gospel invalidated thereby, and made of
none effect to man ? I can see no such connection
between Moses' work in this matter, and Christ's work
for our race, as would authorise su^h a conclusion, or
any approach thereto. It is the gravest of mistakes
so to yoke the Gospel with the letter of the law, or
Avith the letter of any part of Scripture as to make it
responsible for the hteral defects of the record. In such
a case Christianity is hurt in the house of its friends.
The absence of any adequate reply to Bishop Colenso
is very noticeable, especially so, in view of the great
amount of adverse speaking and writing which he has

THE BIBLE, A PROGRESSIVE REVELATION. 79

called forth. His fellow churclimen in Canada have
been constrained to raise their voice in the matter,
but this has been done in the way of protest and re-
monstrance, a short and easy way, it must be admit-
ted, of dealing with such books. But then it savors
too strongly of the pope's bull against the comet to
have much effect with thinking people. Rational argu-
ments, like comets, will hold on their way, bulls and
protests to the contrary, notwithstanding.

That such writers as the authors of " Essays and
Reviews,'' and Bishop Colenso of Natal, have the intel-
lectual sympathy and moral support of a very large
class of the more thoughtful and educated of their own
countrymen in England, and in their own Church
there, cannot be doubted. Their books have been and
are in unprecedented demand both in England and on
this side of the Atlantic, "where they have been exten-
sively reprinted. That there should be protests and
remonstrances, largely signed and loudly uttered, will
surprise nobody w^ho knows how easy it is to obtain
signatures and loud voices onbehalf of currently receiv-
ed opinions. There is always a large crowd ready
with loud voices and plenty of stones at hand, when
any Stephen, or other witness, is to be stoned. But
if Stephen is to be answered instead of being stoned,
scolded or protested — answered, I mean, by argument
requiring thought and reflection, then the number is
lessened until the accused finds himselfalone or nearly
so. That such writers as Colenso, Jowett, and the like,
have good support in their free and reverent enquiries

80 ' SERMON V.

and utterances among the best minds of their own land
and their own Church, I am forced to believe by many
indications. They do not stand alone in their methods
of investigation, or in their way of looking at the inspi-
ration and authority of Holy Scripture. Far from it,
indeed, notwithstanding all the petitions, remonstrances,
and legal prosecutions. And as a set-off to such pro-
tests and remonstrances, from whatever source coming,
let us call up the testimony of some of the best minds
in the Anglican Church in England — men studious,
and learned, and enjoying eminent ecclesiastical and
university positions. Dr. A. P. Stanley, formerly an
Oxford professor, and now Dean of Westminster, writes
that the theory of a uniform and equal inspiration of
every word and letter of the Bible, which is at present
regarded almost as an article offaith by many religious
persons, is comparatively modern, not having been sys-
tematised into theology until the latter part of the seven-
teenth century. He says, " It is not contained in any
of the formularies of the Church of England. In the
only instances in which the word ' Inspiration' and its
cognate verb are used in the Liturgy and Articles, the
sense is invariably that of divine influence, suggesting
all good thoughts and wise counsels to the hearts and
minds of all men." (Pref, to Three Sermons on Bible

pp, V, VI.)

" What conceivable connexion," asks Dr. Arnold,
in one of his sermons, " is there between the date of
Cyrenius' government, or the question whether our
Lord healed a blind man as he was going into Jericho

THE BIBLE, A PROGRESSITE REVELATION, 81

or as he was leaving it ; or whether Judas bought
himself the field of blood, or it was bought by the high
priests, what connection can there be between such
questions and the truth of God's love to man in the
redemption, and of the resurrection of our Lord ? Do
we give to any narrative in the world, to any state-
ment, verbal or written, no other alternative than that
it must be ^either infallible or unworthy of belief? Is
not such an alternative so extravagant as to be a com-
plete reductio ad absurdum ? And yet such is the al-
ternative which men seem generally to have admitted
in considering the Scripture narratives : if a single
error can be discovered, it is supposed to be fatal to
the credibility of the whole.

'' This has arisen," continues Dr. Arnold, " from an
unwarranted interpretation of the word ' Inspiration,'
and by a still more unwarranted inference. An inspir-
ed work is supposed to mean a work to which God has
communicated his own perfections: so the slightest
error or defect of any kind in it is inconceivable, and
that which is other than perfect in all points cannot be
inspired. This is the unwarranted interpretation of
the word * Inspiration.* But then follows the still
more unwarranted inference, ' If all the Scripture is
not inspired, Christianity cannot be true ;' an infer-
ence which is absolutely entitled to no other conside-
ration than what it may seem to derive from the
number of those who have either openly or tacitly
maintained it." --

,, .''j The nature of inspiration," writes Professor Jowett

82 •. SERMON V.

in liis great essay, '* can only be known from the exa-
mination of ScrijDture. There is no other source to
which we can turn for information ; and we have no
right to assume some imaginary doctrine of inspiration
like the infallibility of the Roman Catholic Church.
To the question, ' What is inspiration V the first an-
swer, therefore, is, ' That idea of Scripture which we
gather from the knowledge of it.' It is no mere a
prioi i notion, but one to which the book is itself a wit-
ness. Tt is a fact which we infer from the study of
Scripture, not of one portion only, but of the whole.
Obviously, then, it embraces writings of very different
kinds, the Book of Esther, for example, or the Song of
Solomon as well as the Gospel of St. John. It is
reconcilable with the mixed good and evil of the charac-
ters of the old Testament, which, nevertheless, does not
exclude them from tlie favor of God, with the attribu-
tion to the divine Being of actions at variance with
that higher revelation which he has given of himself
in the Gospel. It is not inconsistent with imperfect
or opposite aspects of the truth, as in the book of Job
or Ecclesiastes ; with variations of fact in the Gospels
or the books of Kings and Chronicles ; with inaccura-
cies of language in the Epistles of St. Paul. For
these ar(i all found in Scripture, neither is there any
reason why they should not be, except a general
impression that Scripture ought to have been written
otherwise than it has." < . . .

And the same writer says : ^' If the term ' Inspira-
tion ' were to fall into disuse, no fact of nature or

THE BIBLE, A PROGRESSIVE REVELATION. 83

history or language, no event in the life of man, or deal-
ings of God with him, would he in any degree altered.
The word itself is but of yesterday, not found in the
earlier confessions of the reformed faith ; the diflScul-
ties that have arisen about it are only two or three
centuries old." (^Essays and Revietvs.')

In the citations just made, I have presented the con-
clusions and utterances of some of the most thought-
ful and reverent minds in England on the subject
before us. My purpose in referring to these learned
and eminent men who have reflected so carefUlly and
spoken so freely on the character and contents of the
Eible, will, I hope, be understood. It has been to
remind you how strongly such questions are now mov-
ing; the best minds of the ao!;e, and throujzh them all
classes of society who are disposed to serious thought,
and have moral courage to look the popular traditional
notions fairly in the face, to see what measure of
actual and simple truth they represent. It is true,
indeed, that some of these men have been brought
into ecclesiastical courts to answer charges of heresy
preferred against them by their more orthodox breth-
ren. The decisions of such courts, however, on which-
ever side given, are of none effect in the last result as
between actual truth and error. Their judgments are
all relative to their legal standards of judgment, to
wit : the written articles and formularies of the Church
of England. So that when such decisions are given, the
great previous question still remains, viz., how far are
the articles and formularies themselves consistent with

84 • . SERMON V.

truth actual and scriptural ? The judges in such case
will admit no pleadings in appeal to Holy Scripture.
Dr. Lushington, in his judgment in the case of Dr.
"Williams, says : '• I will not be tempted in the trial of
any accusation against a clergyman, to resort to Scrip-
ture as the standard by which the doctrine is to be
measured ; and, I may, with perfect truth, add that,
were such a task imposed upon me, the want of theo-
logical knowledge would incapacitate me from ade-
(pately discharging it." And, in conformity with this
dictum, the learned judge orders that the articles of
aecusation " must be reformed by striking out all refer-
ence to extracts from the Bible found in the Prayer
Book." (^LuMngton 8 Judgment, p. 13.)

Dr. Lushington declined to admit several of the
articles of accusation in the form presented, but he
admitted enough, eventually, to authorise him in pro-
nouncing a judgment of limited suspension against Dr.
WiUiams and Mr. Wilson, two of the Essayists and
Reviewers. But, on appeal to the privy council, the
judgment of suspension was set aside, and the accused
clergymen set free of penalty. Tbis is noticeable, as
the latest declaration of the law by the highest tribu-
nal in England — that it is not contrary to the doctrme
of the Church of England, to hold and to teach that
the Bible, in its contents, shows the traces of human
imperfections in connection with its divine disclosures.
, As to theories of inspiration, much has been said
> and written, but it seems to me that no precise and
positive statement can be made of the theory of inspi-

THE BIBLE, A PROGRESSIVE REVELATIOX. 85

ration of the Bible, certainly none which can be pre-
sented to the popular mind with satisfaction. No
theory involving literal inspiration can be defended for
a moment. The Bible was not given us to this end —
not given us, I mean, that we might construct theories
of inspiration. Inspiration is to be felt rather than
defined. "The wind bloweth where it listeth," as
Christ himself said of this matter, but man is not called
to make positive statements of the manner of its com-
ing or going. A divine afflatus pervades the sacred
volume — a breathing of the Holy Spirit — which is felt
and found by the true seeker who seeks for it. And
herein lie its virtue, its power and its proper use for
us — in the Spirit rather than in the letter — in the
reception and application of the Spirit, rather than in
any theory concerning the letter. When we come to
appreciate the spirit of the sacred writings, we shall
find a ready key to the manner and mystery of their
inspiration. And all discussion concerning theories of
inspiration, in advance of this spiritual appreciation,
will be vain and fruitless. " For the letter killeth,"
and no discussions or decisions concerning the letter
can ever make alive. '^-^-' ^- =ivii&; «;<;* i .{ .^^ ;. )

Take up the Bible as we have it, and what do we
find within its covers ? We find, in the first place,
that it contains two grand divisions — Old Testament
and New Testament ; that these divisions, again, pre-
sent subdivisions into various books, bearins; different

w 7 CD

names taken from their authors^'w from topics to which
they relate. Within the covers of the Bible, there are

SG ' SERMON V.

as many as sixty-six different treatises or books, written
by a variety of persons on various subjects, under
divers circumstances, and at different periods of time,
some of them widely remote from the others. This
venerable book, which we find thus divided, presents
a varied mass of literature, history, didactic matter,
poetry, narrative, and epistle. Its structure is evidently
not that of a compact historical or scientific treatise,
such as Hume's history or Locke's essay. Nor is it a
collection of essays or documents, each of which is entire-
ly independent of all the others like a volume of any of
our periodical publications. No ; the Bible in its struc-
ture is different from both of these. Although a period of
more than four hundred years separates the Old Testa-
ment from the New, yet they are mutually related.
For they both contain the utterances of men who spake
as they were moved by the Holy Spirit. Now this
Spirit proceeds from God, being God in operation on
the minds of men, and the utterance is still to the same
effect and end, viz., to enlighten and help man, to
guide him in his earthly pilgrimage, so that he may
reach a heavenly country. At sundry times and divers
manners has the great and merciful God spoken to this
end, formerly through the prophets of the old dispen-
sation, and latterly through his Son and apostles of the
new dispensation. As the apostle Paul writes, '* the
law w^as our schoolmaster to bring men to Christ." ( Gal.
iii. 24.) Here we see denoted the purpose of the suc-
cessive revelations given by prophets of former times
and by the Messiah of the later times. By means of

THE BIBLE, A PROGRESSIVE REVELATION. 87

tlieso instrumentalities, God was carrying on a process
<)f moral and spiritual education for the human race,
lifting mankind from lower to higher levels of moral
and spiritual apprehension. As touching divorcement
Christ said to the people, " Moses, because of the hard-
ness of your hearts'' (^Mat. xix. 8), suffered this thing,
but it was not so from the beginning, nor shall ye have
such license in this matter any longer. Here was a
distinct reoognition on the part of Jesus of the pro-
gressive character of the revelation, the record of
which we have in the Bible. Man had lost communion
with God, and ran riot in sin. Through sin his mind
was darkened and his heart hardened. Out of the
motions of his divine love and pity God spake through
patriarchs, calling man back to himself from the base
worships into which he had strayed. He spake through
Closes, giving a law, a code of commandments, enjoin-
ing what men should do and what they should not do ;
thus acting on the conscience as a preparation for the
higher law of love revealed in and by Christ. It
becomes plain, then, that for an intelligent use of the
Bible, we must keep these things in view. Under this
incontrovertible aspect of the case, it becomes impos-
sible for us to regard all parts of this volume, which we
call the Bible, as of equal value. The traditional habit
v)f doing so leads to endless mistakes in theology and
and religion, in social and personal morals. The Mor-
mon justifies polygamy out of the Bible, and the slave-
holder justifies slavery out of the Bible. I call to mind
here Archbishop Whately's sensible illustration on this

88 SERMON V.

point. He likens this habit tc that of a man who
should have received from his father, at various times,
from childhood to mature manhood, a great number of
letters containing directions as to conduct ; and who
should lay them by with reverence, but in a confused
heap, taking any one of them at random, and reading
it without reference to date^ whenever he needed his
father's instructions how to act.

God spake at sundry times and in divers manners
by the prophets, but in these last days he hath spoken
by his Son. I accept this last utterance of God as my
chief and leading guidance. I interpret the whole
Bible by the light of Jesus Christ. All previous dis-
pensations I regard as fitted to their day and genera-
tion ; but the Christian dispensation I regard as fitted
for all times and all men. Law, prophets and psalms
I accept gratefully and devoutly as precious gifts of
God, but the words of the Lord Jesus, I accept grate-
fully and devoutly as the most precious and most per-
fect gift of all. The warrior psalmist of Israel may
bless God for teaching his hands to war and his fingers
to fight, and he may invoke curses on his enemies, but
I do not regard such destructive and vindictive utter-
ances, although on record in the Bible, as having any
authority for me, as a guide in religion. Iiow can I,
when I hear Christ saying, " blessed are the peace-
makers," and enjoining ^ove towards onemies ? The
prophets and psalmists of the Old Testament do,
indeed, give forth utteru^oes divine — utterances
prompted by inspiration from God, and felt so tobe^

THE BIBLE, A PROGRESSIVE REVELATION. 89

by their penetrating and elevating power upon our
souls. But the Lord Christ transcends them all, bring-
ing us into the very presence of our heavenly Father,
and quickening us with a new and lively hope towards
him.

Thus regarding the Bible, not as a divinely-inspired
whole, making God responsible for every word or
phrase to be found between its covers, but as the
record of a series of revelations made by God to man,
and made through prophetic men, spiritually quicken-
ed, we occupy the only true and legitimate ground for
defending the divine element in the Bible. Admitting
the human element in the Bible, we cannot be forced
into a false position, or have our faith in God and
Christ shaken, by having this faith jeopardised through
inseparable connection with proved imperfections in the
record. And thus regarding the divine revelation
recorded in the Bible, as progressive in its character,
rising from lower to higher, until it culminates in
Christ — the divine word made flesh — the last and
grandest revelation of Grod expressed in a perfect
human hfe in the person of Jesus of Nazareth, we find
therein help and guidance, sure and unfailing. We
escape the perplexities incident to an unintelligent
regard to merely Jewish codes and notions. Christ
shews us God, not only as a Sovereign, but as a Father,
thus giving an idea of God, above all others most true
in itself, and most affecting to the heart of man. He.
the beloved Son, stands before the world as the living
symbol of man in true union with God, which, is the

90 SERMON V.

consummation of all religious seeking. Christ calls on
all his disciples to be spiritually one with him, as he is
spiritually one with the Fathe: :. And he not only calls,
but he shows the way. All this w^e have on record in
the later revelation of the Bible. Thus does this great
and blessed book guide us and help us, shedding hea-
venly light on our earthly journey, gilding this tran-
sient life of ours with the hope, the joy, and the glory
of the life eternal.

SERMON VI

THE CHRISTIAN SUNDAY.

" I was in the Spirit on the Lord's day."— 72ei'. i. 10.

The Mosaic law was strict in its injunctions concerning
the sabbath day. No work was to be done on pain of
death — not even a fire kindled. (Ex. xxxv. 3.) A
man found gathering sticks was taken before Moses
and condemned to be stoned, and the congregation
" stoned him with stones and he died." (iVwm. xv. 36.)
Such were the requirements — such the rigor of
the Mosaic code concerning the sabbath or serenth
day of the week — the day corresponding to our Satur-
day. But these sabbaths of the Jews were only " a
shadow of the things to come," as the apostle writes,
the substance of which was to be found in the gospel.
The Jewish sabbath passed away with the rest of the
Jewish ritual. It was not abolished formally nor im-
mediately, for it is not the method of the gospel to
abrogate abruptly but rather gradually, as its spirit

92 SERMON VI.

takes effect in human hearts. So long as any institu-
tion is likely to be serviceable to a man morally or
spiritually, the gospel lays no rude hand upon it, but
permits him to use it so long as he needs it. For it is a
religion of spirit and life, and gladly lays hold of every
instrumentality by which its supreme purpose may be
served. In fact the first Christians — a portion of
them — continued to observe the seventh day in con-
nection with the first, which was universally adopted
as a day of assembling for prayer and edification
(Acts XX. 7), and a day enjoined by the apostle for
offerings of charity. • (I Cor, xvi. 2.) The first day of
the week, or Sunday, came to be thus observed because it
was the day of the Lord's resurrection. Observed in
commemoration of this joyful event, it was a day of joy
and thankfulness to the believers. On this day they
held their agapae or love feasts, sometimes in remote
upper rooms, and sometimes in the caverns of the earth
to avoid the eye and sword of the persecutor. In pro-
cess of time the Jewish sabbath went out of use entire-
ly, and all the Christians were left with the first day
of the week only as their day of rest from temporal
concerns, and of activity in things spiritual. And thus
has it come down to our age. We do not admit that
the seventh day with its Jewish requirements has any
special claim upon us. We do admit, and our present
meeting is aii evidence that we admit, a special claim
for iho first day with its Christian requirements.

But whereon do we base this claim? On what
foundation do we ground our special observance of this

THE CHRISTIAN SUNDAY. 93

Christian rest daj, which we call the Lord's day, as
the primitive beUcvers did ? Not certainly on the law
of Moses, for that code prescribes the seventh day, not
the first. Nor is there any formal repeal of this injunc-
tion to be found in any part of the Bible. Neither is there
any formal injunction in Holy Scripture prescribing
the observance of the first day. "VVe cannot, then, cite
the formal and positive authority of Scripture for it.
Yet its observance is not without a sufficient foundation
and a binding force of obligation. This foundation we
find in the nature of man — in the moral and spiritual
needs of that nature. This binding force of obligation
we find in the perpekial obligation which cleaves to
man to seek what is highest, noblest, best, and holiest,
and permits no means to pass unimproved by which this
supreme end of his being may be served. These
remarks, of course, dj not apply directly to a specific
day, first, second or seventh, but indirectly they do.
Abstractly considered, if all days are alike, when we
find that rest is a necessity of our nature we are legi-
timately bound to the selection of that day which pro-
vidential circumstances indicate to us. As Christians
we have indications that the first day is a fit day for
our rest and worship. It is the day on which the
Master rose from the dead, bringing life and immortal-
ity clearly to light. It commemorates the great his-
toric event of the resurrection, and invites to all the
thoughts feelings and hopes which cluster around it.
So it appeared to the first believers, and they adopted
it in consequence. As ChristJans of this nineteenth

94 • SERMON VI.

century we have indications that the first day of the
week is the day most fit for our rest and worship. For
it is now a settled institution to this end throughout
Christendom. It comes to us, an inheritance from
our fathers, and with associations the most sublime and
hallowing. It is now so interwoven as an institution
with the providential order of the world's history that
we cannot set it aside. Attempts have been made to
do so, some on a large scale and some on a smaller,
but they have failed, as all attempts must fail which
embody the mere wilfulness of man, and array it against
the august providential order of God.

I do not consider, then, that the Jewish sabbath has
any special binding or authoritative claim upon you or
me. You work in your workshops, you buy and sell
in your warehouses on the seventh day as on any
other ordinary day of the week. This being so, you
will scarcely expect me to enlarge on the sabbath
institution, in the Jewish sense. I would, if I could,
make our Christian day of rest and worship more sacred
and spiritually helpful than ever the Je\N'ish sabbath
was. This I would do, not by stoning men for gather-
ing sticks, not by acting on fear or superstition to hold
them back from overt acts, but by presenting to their
Liinds, and commending to their consciences, the grand
purposes which such a day may be made to serve. I
would rataer die than utter a word to depreciate the
value of the Christian Sunday, or shake the resp3ct of
Christendom for the Lord's day. I would speak, so
far as I can, to have that value correctly appreciated.

THE CHRISTIAN SUNDAY. 95

and that respect made stronger and more lasting by
placing it on foundations which cannot fail. I would
urge its value, and the respect which is due to it as
an indispensible means trwards the grandest of all
ends — the end of the most commanding interest to
moral and responsible, immortal and progressive beings.
What is our life but a journey — a line of travel from
one point of the spiritual scale to another — a line of
travel wherein we may go forward or backward, up-
ward or downward. If I am to speak of the sabbath
institution, therefore, in the Christian sense, it is fit
that I should speak of the use which is to be made of it
in bringing us nearer to the great goal of all Christian
endeavor — the use which is to be made of it in lifting
our thoughts toward God, and leading our steps in the
way of rectitude, self conquest, holiness and peace
divine.

Here is a weekly recurring day of rest providen-
tially given to us — a Christian sabbath ; — How shall we
best employ it to promote the great purpose of life ?
To promote the great purpose of life, I say again, for
it is, in the first place, requisite to the intelligent ap-
prehension of the matter that we regard the sunday
or Christian sabbath as a means to an end, not an
end in itself. Considered simply in itself the first day
of the week carries no peculiar sanctity. It is only as
considered in its connection with its sacred traditions
and associations, and in the use to which we devote it
in this connection, towards the supreme end of life, that
its sanctity and value are tc be found. Here we are

96 SERMON VI.

— all of us, young and old, some richer, some poorer,
some more prominent in the world, some more obscure,
but all travelling onward in our great human journey
of life, and in our best hours looking to the same
heavenly goal and hoping the same heavenly hopes.
And the sabbaths stand, as the devout poet hath said,

" like way-marks, to cheer the pilgrim's path,

His progress mark, and keep his rest in view."

They come to give

" new vigor to the languid pulse

' Uf life divine, restore the wandering feet,
Strengthen the weak, uphold the prone to slip,
Quicken the lingering, and the sinking lift,
Establishing them all upon a rock."

These lines, you will observe, are from the pen of a
Christian poet. They indicate the use to which the
Christian sabbath may be put in our life-journey.

But let us return to the direct question already pro-
posed: — How shall we best employ the Sunday to
promote the great purpose of life ? We shall use it
for rest, says one. And so far he says well. But let
us look at his deed, and mark in what sense we are to
interpret his word. He is worn and wearied with six
days' hard and constant work, and when the Sunday
comes he seeks rest for wearied bone and muscle.
Certainly such rest is required, and to this end, doubt-
less, was the sabbath designed. But observe what he
means by rest, and see if jou can distinguisK it from

THE CHRISTIAN SUNDAY. 97

indolence physical, mental and spiritual. He stays
as long in bed as he can on the Sunday morning, and
when he is tired of that, he rises to lounge on a couch
until he is tired of this. To vary this monotony of in-
dolence he takes up the last newspaper, perhaps, or
some trashy book which emasculates the understand-
ing, degrades the moral sense, and blinds and stultifies
the soul. When he is tired of all this he strolls abroad
somewhere, and, if no other attraction is in his way, he
probably enters some church. This is one answer,
practically developed. Another says we shall use it
for rest and recreation. And so far he says well, too.
But here, again, let us look at his deed, and see in
what sense we are to interpret his word, for we are all
apt, unconsciously, to deceive ourselves by words. He
means by recreation the satisfaction of whatever desire
is uppermost, without any just thought of its character,
limitations or tendency. By recreation he means that
which will enable him to pass the day most agreeably
— that which will give him the greatest amount of en-
joyment according to his own notions thereof. But it
is evident that a way is opened here to a fatal mistake.
For the man may be ignorant, lacking knowledge of
duty, or he may be dull of conscience, not able to dis-
criminate even within the limits of his knowledge, or
he may be dead of soul, having all proper thought of
God and of the life immortal obliterated, and livincr
only for to-day and the enjoyments of the passing
hour. In such a case his recreations can only be
disastrous to him. His riding or driving, his boating,

98 SERMON VI.

drinking or dancing, his walking or talking with hia
companions can only be morally disastrous to him,
confirming him in his spiritual death, and aggravating
the worst circumstances of his condition. A third says,
in effect, the sabbath is for rest, and I am wiUing that
rest should be taken by those who desire it, but I do
not. The force of a prevaiUng sentiment and custom
in a Christian state of society closes workshop and
warehouse, and thus shuts off my open opportunity from
following my usual avocation in my usual way, but I
will follow it, nevertheless, — I will post my books, and
write my letters, and consider my bargains, and my
chances of buying and seUing. In this way I can
steal a march on my neighbor who seems to think there
is some other and worthier call upon him to-day than
there was yesterday. Perhaps I may have time to do
this, and get to church too, and thus be equal with
him in the one direction, while I shall have clearly
gained upon him in the other.

In indicating these answers I do not think I have
exaggerated their character. Certainly, I know that
nothing is to be gained by exaggeration in an enquiry
such as this — so serious, so personal, and involving
consequences so pregnant with weal and woe, far
beyond the hmits of earthly time. For this enquiry
is one which bears directly on the structure of charac-
ter whereby we are judged by our God, and whereon
our destiny is made to depend. Against all such
answers as I have indicated one fatal objection lies,
which is patent to all persons of clear moral and

THE CHRISTIAN SUNDAY.

€hristian discernment. To all such persons it is
obvious, that, in such answers, no adequate account is
taken of the nature of man, of his actual circum-
stances and most pressing needs. Man has a nature
of a higher order than the physical, and therefore
the rest of indolence, though it bring some reUef to
the physical nature, cannot help him toward the
supreme end of life. Man has a higher nature than
the sensual, a higher nature, too, than that which
finds satisfaction in the sallies of a superficial wit and
imagination, and therefore no amount of sensual plea-
sure or frivolous amusement can help him. Man has
a nature which soars .far above the base level of
avarice, far above the vulgar level to which a desire
for acquisition holds him, and therefore he will not be
helped towards the highest purpose of life by a day
devoted, in the main, to the service of these. Man
has a soul, a spiritual part, which no mere sensual
gratification, no frivolous pastime, no gains of avarice
can ever satisfy. The soul has an inherent thirst for
<jrod, and nothing will adequately satisfy this want
but the conscious contact of the spiritual part of man
with the great fountain of goodness and Father of all
spirits. You, cr I, or any other man, may be in the
position of the prodigal, away from the Father,
through our transient wilfulness or the overruling
force of base desire, and striving to find our satisfac-
tions apart from him ; but in this course we are at
war with our nature, viewed in the light of its highest
needs ; and the experience of the prodigal is veri-

100 • SERMON VI.

fied in our hearts, sooner or later. The void is
felt. We find we have only husks before us. In
our spiritual hunger and thirst we turn our eye
toward the forsaken household of the Father. In
our felt want we cry for God.

Such being the nature and such the spiritual neces-
sities of man, we are furnished with an index which
points directly, and at once, to the use which is to be
made of our Christian sabbath. Looking at man's
present circumstances in the world, we see that he is
beset by two classes of interests, the material and
the spiritual. And looking at the tendency of the
times, we see how material interests press liim at all
points, challenging his attention and securing his
regard. We see commercial competition at a fever
heat, not sparing men day or night, racking their
brains, shaking their nerves, and blanching their
faces. Here is another index, the finger of a
benignant providence, pointing to the use which is
to be made of this day. Weekly it comes to man,
calling him to rest from worldly toil, and inviting
him to seek communion with heaven. To the Chris-
tian it carries no burden of Jewish restrictions
with it, for the Christian's Lord hath assured him
that man is not the servant of a sabbath ordinance,
but the sabbath the servant and the helper of man.
" The sabbath was made for man," said the Lord

•

Jesus, " not man for the sabbath." (^Mark ii. 27.)
In the spirit of this declaration of the Master,
should the sabbath be used. Do you ask whether

THE CHKISTIAN SUNDAY. 101

we should write letters, read books, walk abroad, or
the like on this day ? It is evident that to answer
yes or answer no to this question would not throw
much light on the subject ; for the essence of the mat-
ter lies in the sort of letters you write, the sort of
books you read, the sort of walks you take. Here
we cannot lay down any precise verbal injunctions
which will adequately meet the case. You know how
entirely this is in harmony with the great purpose of
Ohristianity, w^hich is to infuse and fix in the L .art of
man such a living spirit of love to God and all foj'ms of
goodness as will lead it toward God, without pausing
at every turn to learn the particulars of the way. " I
was in the spirit on the Lord's day" {Rev, i. 10),
says the apocalyptic writer of the New Testament.
Herein may we find a direct suggestion of the secret
of the whole matter. To seek a spiritual state of
mind on the Lord's day, as a salutary and most neces-
sary check on the materialism which presses so closely
on us through all the other days of the week, — this is
the use we should make of it, to this end did a gra-
cious and benignant providence design it. Man has
two classes of interests presented to him, the material
and the spiritual. Both press him, demanding his
service. And he may properly serve both ; but only
on one condition — that the material be held subordi-
nate to the spiritual. Both cannot be served on equal
terms ; for as God has a higher claim than Mammon,
to bring this claim down to an equality is really to
degrade it. Now, it is clear that the Sunday should

102 SERMON VI.

be used in the direction and for the service of the
higher interests of man. So that all manner of
thought, occupation, amusement, or method of spend-
ing time, which distracts the attention from the higher
to the lower interests, is clearly at variance with the
spirit and purpose of the institution. Here is a sim-
ple test, which every man may apply to himself and
for himself. Does his manner of spending the precious
hours of Sunday make him nobler, hoHer, lift him
upward,' help him onward to a closer likeness to Christ
and to God ? Is it his settled and intelligent pur-
pose to use them to this end ?

'' After a week's chafing cares and bustle, what a
privilege to pause and be refreshed with the thoughts
of heaven." So wrote Dr. Channing, in one of his
familiar letters. " It is the sabbath" — these are his
words again-^" the remembrancer of our immortality,
the soul's holiday, when it should renew itself in
happier regions." Who does not feel that these words
of Channing set forth the simple and just Christian
view of the subject ? Workshop and warehouse are
closed on this day. The toiling beast is unyoked
from the plough. The church is opened, symbolic of
the highest hopes of man, and of the common worship
of a common Father. Here let us use a portion of
the day, mingling our best sympathies and loftiest
aspirations with those of our fellows-men, -strengthen-
ing the bond of our common brotherhood, and raising
our joint-offering of prayer and praise -a spiritual
sacrifice unto heaven. To works of blessed charity

THE CHRISTIAN SUNDAY. 103

let it be devoted, too, by which the neglected poor
and ignorant and suifering and afflicted may be sought
and found out and helped with the best help we can
render. Let there be social intercourse and cheerful-
ness, reading at home, and a walk out under God's open
sky — let there be all these in what measure we will,
so that we do not allow mere selfishness to rule, and
carry them into hours sacredly reserved, and by com-
mon consent set apart for the higher exercises and
more direct services of rehgion. Our Sundays spent
in this way, they will be sabbaths indeed — seasons of
refreshment to the soul, " times of refreshing from the
presence of the Lord," by which we shall be assisted
to render God a grateful and more faithful service on
every other day of the week. The Sundays thus
spent, thoughtfully, honorably, religiously, will build
up the young in Christian manliness and womanliness,
will give grace and strength to the more matured, and
to old age will impart profound satisfaction and
peace. Our " sabbath days' journeys," made in this
spirit, and with such purpose, will help us in the
great journey of life, and lead us through the per-
plexities thereof to that sweet and joyful rest which
remaineth for the people of God.

SERMON VII.

NEW YEAR.

" Lord, let it alone this year also."— Luke xiii. 8.

" Lord, let it alone this year also." — Thus pleads
the vine-dresser with the master of the vineyard
on behalf of the barren fig tree. The parable is the
Lord's, and known to you all. For three years the
master had come to this tree seeking fruit, but had
found none. It had been planted in the vineyard, and
well cared for. The spade had been applied at its
roots and the pruning knife at its branches. The
refreshing showers had fallen from the skies, and the
sunHght had streamed upon it from the heavens. It
had shared the vigorous hfe of the earth in the spring
time, and the genial warmth of the summer; but still
the autumns came and went, and no fruit was forth-
coming. Then said the master : Why doth it cumber
the ground ? why should it remain here extracting the
nourishment from the earth which might otherwise go

NEW YEAR. 105

to the vines around about, and come out in shining
clusters of fruit, or taking up room which might be
occupied by a productive tree ? Cut it down — cut it
down, said the master. Ah, Lord, pleads the vine
dresser, " let it alone this year also, till I shall dig
about it, and dung it ; and if it bear fruit, well ; and if
not, then, after that, thou shalt cut it down."

Whatever may have been the special application of
this parable to the Jewish nation, when it was uttered
by our Savior, the principles which it involves or
announces are for all nations and for all time. There
were some people there who had told him of the Gal-
ileans, whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacri-
fices. There was a popular notion among the Jews
that signal calamity betokened some special sinfulness
on the part of the sufferers. And to this notion our
Lord at once addresses himself, saying unto them :
" Suppose ye that these Galileans were sinners above
all the Galileans because they suffered such things ? I
tell you nay ; but except ye repent ye shall all like-
wise perish." Then came the parable of the barren
fig tree, to illustrate the necessity of timely repent
ance.

Quite frequently in the sacred Scriptures are men
compared to trees. You will remember the simple
and significant imagery of the first Psalm ; " Blessed
is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the un-
godly whose delight is in the law of

the Lord , ... He shall be like a tree planted by

the rivers of water, that bringeth forth fruit in his

106 SERMON VII.

season ; his leaf also shall not wither ; and whatsoever
he doeth shall prosper." You will remember, too, the
imagery employed by the Lord in his last discourse to
his disciples : "I am the vine, ye are the branches.
He that abide th in me, and I in him, the same bring-
eth forth much fruit." (John xv. 5.)

The point and significance of the parallel lie obvi-
ously in this, that both have the capacities for growth
and improvement. Both are so constituted and organ-
ized as to bring forth fruit as the result of their
organization. Both have outward helps toward the
development of inward powers.

Note the process of growth in a tree. — Transverse
section of the trunk shows concentric rings, which mark
the annual growths. Note the process of growth in a
man. — Layers of habit are annually deposited.

Fruit is the final expression and last result of the
vigor and life of the tree, — that to which every prior
process of budding and blossoming was preparatory
and subordinate. Fruit (of works) is the final expres-
sion and last result of the inward life and vigor of the
man — that to which every prior process of habit, train-
ing, culture and enlightenment was preparatory and
subordinate.

*^By their fruits ye shall know them," saith the
Lwd. And here we are reminded once more how the
Savior, in his first notable discourse (on the mount)
as in his last, adduces trees as fit symbols or images of
men. " Ye shall know them by their fruits," he says,
" Do men gather grapes of thorns or figs of this-

NEW YEAR. 107

ties? Even so every good tree bringeth forth good
fruit ; but a corrupt tree bringeth forth evil fruit,
(^Mat. vii. 16-17.)

Estimated with reference ';o the agent, the fruits of
human hfe are of three kinds, viz : evil works, or
works whereof the motive is evil ; dead works, or works
whereof the motive is not good, although the results
to others may be good ; and good works, or works
whereof the motive is pure, good and godlike. Keeping
this rule in mind, the thoughtful soul may be helped
to a knowledge of itself, and of the character of its
fruit-bearing.

In the parable from which our text is taken, justice
makes its demand — its just demand. The master of
the vineyard seeks for fruit where he had a full and
just right to expect it. Then mercy intervenes in the
words of the vine-dresser : " Lord, let it alone this
year also."

We would lift the parable with the principle it
involves, and the lesson it conveys, out of its local and
transient limitations, and apply it to ourselves and our
own times. This is the first Sunday of the new year.
We begin this year with emphatic lessons of God's pro-
vidence sounding in our ears. I need not refer again
to the events which I noticed on last Sunday evening,
farther than to say that rarely have the uncertainty
and the perishable nature of earthly riches been more
clearly demonstrated than in the events of the year
just closed. Fortunes have melted away or fallen away
like snow from our housetops. Now all of us know

108 SERMON VII.

that the race for riches is the great race of this age
and this con^' lent. In Europe other prizes are sought
as well as wealth. Th ^re, there are more prizes for am-
bition of various sorts, and amongst the more numerous
leisured class to be found there, there is a more general
race after mere pleasure. All the circumstances of this
newer continent present wealth as the leading object
to fire the hearts and move the hands of the mass of
men here. The young man is drawn into the common
vortex of desire, and though the Bible proverb warns
him that innocence cannot well consist with haste to
be rich — " He that maketh haste to be rich shall not
be innocent," — (^Prov. xxviii. 20,) — ^yet he girds him-
self for the race for riches as if these were the chief aim
of living. Had the Lord said " by their fruits of gold
and silver, of houses and lands, of stocks and secu-
rities, are my disciples to be known," men could not
pursue these things with more prominence and sted-
fastness than they commonly do. But the events of
the past year have very clearly shown us that the race
is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong
in this strife. For the strongest have been brought
low, and the swiftest have been suddenly tripped up.

In view of such occurrences, then, may we not well
pause, and ask ourselves whether, after all, this strife
for wealth is worth the trouble ? Whether it is really
the best use we can make of life to seek this thing as
the first thing ? Or, whether, without neglecting this,
or leaving it out of sight, there may not be a higher
aim for us as the chief aim of life — some treasures

NEW YEAR. 109

which are more lasting in their nature than the trea-
sures of earthly riches ?

Or, without keeping in view any such special occur-
rences, but simply regarding the rolling years of time
as they go and come in constant succession, and con-
sidering the use to which we put these years, and the
demands which justly lie against us for the opportu-
nities they afford to us, and the privileges they bring
towards the growth and development of a true and
fruit-bearing life, may we not well pause and question
ourselves whether we have borne such fruit as ought
in justice to satisfy the demands of the master of the
vineyard ? Each of us stands as a tree in the great
vineyard, and from each of us fruit is expected. As
the old years go and the new years come — as year
after year the fruit is sought — the fruit of endowment
and of privilege — is the fruit found ? Ah, friends, let
us remember our responsibilities, nor prove faithless to
the great and sacred trust which has been committed
to our charge. For surely life is a trust. Consider
what man is ; — his faculties ; — his privileges. And con-
sider, especially, the helps the Christian man has
towards spiritual growth.

So far as the true end of life is concerned, how
many of us are fulfilling it, even to the satisfaction of
himself, in his more serious moods ? If the master
should come and say, year after year have I sought
the required fruit on this tree but have found none,
what plea could we put in against being condemned as
cumberers of the ground ? What is our fruit ? What

110 . SERMON VII.

its measure ? What its quality ? Take the most
favorable aspect of the case. We have been guilty
of no great sins, let us say. No open or flagrant
transgressions rise up before our vision to scare us by
their awful forms. It is not, however, such sins as
these, only, that give pain to the true and sensitive
conscience. No. The good and struggling man, with
loyal heart and tender conscience, will say still, what
a good and struggling man with right loyal heart and
tender conscience once so well wrote : —

" It is not what my hands have done,
That weighs my spirit down,
That casts a shadow o'er the sun.
And over earth a frown ;
It is not any heinous guilt,

Or vice by men abhorred ;
For fair the fame that I have built,

A fair life's just reward ;
And men would wonder if they knew
How sad I feel with sins so few.

" They judge of actions which they see

Brought out before the sun ;
But conscience brings reproach to me

For what I've left undone, —
For opportunities of good

In folly thrown away,
For hours misspent in solitude,

Forgetfulness to pray,—
And thousand more omitted things
Whose memory fills my breast with stings."

; H. Ware, Jun.

NEW YEAR. Ill

I have called this the most favorable aspect of the
case, when conscience reproves us only for what we
have left undone — when our sins have been those of
passiveness or neglect. We scarcely require to be
reminded that sins other than these He at our doors —
sins of active desire and insubordinate temper, the
withering sins of the thankless heart and the repining
spirit, the corroding sins of avarice and covetousness,
the destroying sins of sensuahsm and the common
worldly lusts which evermore press us — such sins as
these beset us all more or less, and sap the proper
vitality of our being. They rob us of the power of bear-
ing fruit, and render us speechless in the presence of
the master.

As year after year rolls past, and the new year
comes, justice makes its demand that we bring forth
fruit — simple justice, awful justice, justice bearing the
majesty of divine sanction. The talents have been
given, and it demands the return of adequate use and
faithful service. Lacking the return, and in default of
fruit, mercy intervenes, dear mercy, patient mercy,
mercy the darling attribute of God — mercy intervenes,
and the pleading is heard, " Lord, let it alone this
year also."

I see before me young men and maidens, and
matured men and women ; — tender children, too, I see
before me, the hope of many a parent's heart. In every
form I see, whether of young or old, I see that which
contains a germ capable of celestial growth, a power
capable of putting forth blossom and fruit unto ever-

112 SEPwMON VII.

lasting life. I might easily sketch out a plan of fruit-
bearing life for each and for all. But it is not sketches
or plans that any of us require. We all know enough
to make plans for ourselves. Our first and pressing
want is the devout and patient spirit, the persistent
and unwearying purpose, which give vitality and pro-
ductiveness to any plan of life. But this is to be
obtained only by sincere seeking of the soul after God,
and enthroning the things of his kingdom and right-
eousness in the first place in our affections and
regards. We have all entered on another year. Shall
we bring forth fruit therein ? or, shall we bring forth
none ?

SERMON VIII.

SPRING.

" The earth bringeth forth her bud."— Is. Ixi. 11.

"The earth bringeth forth her bud." — Thus writes
the prophet,— using this observed fact in nature, as a
figure to illustrate the springing forth and spreading of
righteousness and praise before all the nations.

Nature still works after her ancient methods, invit-
ing us to observe her ways, and see in them, still,
figures and illustrations and helps toward a deeper and
clearer and more satisfying apprehension of the ways
of God. " The earth bringeth forth her bud " still — the
token of reviving life after the long pause of our
lengthened winter. The winding sheet of snow is not
yet quite removed from our land, but already do we
feel the influence of the vital forces which are to lift
it altogether away, and raise life into manifestation
triumphantly and universally. " The trees of the Lord
are full of sap," writes the psalmist, "the cedars of

114 SERMON viri.

Lebanon which he hath planted." JJut the maples of
Canada, too, are his — planted by hlra, as surely as tlie
cedars of Lebanon. And the swelling buds of our
maples tliis moniing speak of the presence of the hving
God, working through the l?oueficent ministries of
nature, so familiar to our eyes, yet so marvellous and
mysterious.

On last Sunday, having shown forth the Lord Christ's
death, according to his own appointment and request,
we likewise declared his resurrection. The early
church of the west, which is the church of our fathers,
recognised the analogy between the operations of
nature and of grace, and desiring to perpetuate the
recognition, placed the high anniversary festival of
the resurrection of our Lord in the spring season
of the year, when the earth puts forth its buds and
other tokens of rising life. They substituted it for
the ancient easter or spring festival of the Saxons.
The resurrection in the material world comes to help
us by its analogies towards an adequate apprehension
of the resurrection in the spiritual world. The forms
and manifestations of death and life are wonderfully
commingled — we might rather say, mysteriously linked
together everywhere. It has been said of the city
of Rome that in walking through its present streets
wo walk upon the grave of a former city. If we raise
the pavement and dig far enough, we reach pavements
and monuments which speak afresh of the life of
former generations. And farther southward in Italy
I have seen a field waving with golden grain, while

SPRING. 115

away far beneath its roots, wore the buried remains of
a city, whoso streets, gradually disentombed, showed
the fresh traces of a social and political life just as it
was lived eighteen centuries ago. But the whole earth,
though teeming with present life, is yet a tomb — a
huge monument of decay and death. The solid rocks
have yielded before the unremitting action of the ele-
ments throughout the countless ages, and they lie in
their dissolution beneath our feet at every step. What
is the rich and fertile soil which cheers the heart and
gives vigor to the arm of the cultivator ? The dissolved
and decayed remains of organic Hfe. The whole earth
is a sepulchre. In the bogs of Ireland may bo seen
the giants of forests of former epochs, prostrate and
entombed, — fir-trees ancient as those of Iliram and
Solomon, and oaks wlierein sap has ceased to flow
for untold centuries. Dig where you will, throughout
our globe, you come into contact with the rejnains of
former life. But these dead remains carry with them
or within them not only the germs and forms of life, —
which is marvellous ; — but they carry also, in some
profoundly secret way, the principle of life — so mys-
terious in itself. And so the earth is always ready for
a resurrection unto life as soon as certain conditions
outside of iteelf are fulfilled toward it. If one form of
manifested life is undesirable we may destroy it, but
we must be prepared to see it replaced by another.
We may burn up or root up one particular crop in
forest or in field, but the earth will not suspend its
vital forces, nor by its utter barrenness confess the

116 SERMON VIII.

exliauslion of its germs of life. It will assert its vital
powers and resources by putting forth fresh organisms.
Our planet revolves on its axis, and traverses its orbit
— one of the millions which go to make up the unut-
terable wonder and glory of the universe. It revolves
on its axis, and for a certain number of hours during
each revolution has a portion of its surface away from
the sun. Then, to some extent, may we see the decay
of life in plant and animal. The feebler plant has no
longer strength to keep its petals open. The ephemeral
insect dies. But when this portion of its surface re-
turns to the sun, the feeble and sensitive plant revives,
and other ephemerals rise into life. Our planet tra-
verses its orbit, and for a certain number of months
during its annual round, a portion of its surface receives
less of the sun's rays. Then vegetable life shrivels and
dies. Then in our northern latitudes the earth is
covered Tvith a winding sheet of ice and snow. But
when this portion of its surface turns more generously
to the sun, this winding sheet is loosened and removed,
and. Ufe breaks forth in strength and beauty and ample
promise. The frozen sepulchre unsealed by the sun's
genial rays, the earth asserts its powers and vindicates
its vital resources by putting forth its bud — its bud, at
once the token of present life and the promise of an
ampler and far more fully developed life yet to come.
" The earth bringeth forth her bud." And what a
marvel the bud is which the earth brings forth ! I do
not envy the mind that can look upon the buds of
spring with indifference. I do not envy the mind that

SPRING. 117

can look with indifference on these thronging tokens of
renewal of life. I can have no feeling but that of com
passion for the mind which could examine one of the
full buds of spring without being moved to a feeling of
love and wonder and adoration towards God as source
of life, benignant providence, and gracious Father of
all spirits. We dwell in the midst of mystery, but all
the manifestations of the universe are gracious. —
' Manifold, indeed, are the works of God. In wisdom
has he made them all. The earth is full of his riches.
All creatures wait upon him. He openeth his hand
and they are filled with good. He taketh away their
breath, they die, and return to their dust. He sendeth
forth his spirit, they are created, and he reneweth the
face of the earth.' — Such song of praise, as the Hebrew
psalmist sung, is fitting still for all hearts. And at no
season more fitting than just now, when the sun which
warms our planet is rising daily higher, and, by his
increasing rays, breaking the fetters of winter, so that
every form of life may reappear to gladden the heart
of man by various use and beauty.

" The earth bringeth forth her bud." I have said
that the bud is a wonder in itself. And it is a beauti-
ful token and sign of the wonder-working providence
of God, which penetrates all the recesses of nature —
moving all its forces, moulding all its forms, and pro-
ducing all its results. What marvellous forecast is
every where manifested in nature ! Long before open
results are seen, the preparation therefor is made.
The little acorn carries concealed within its shell, at

. 118 SERMON viir.

once the prophecy of, and preparation for, the great
oak which is to spread its hundred branches in the au\
" The earth bringeth forth her bud." Our trees are
as yet bare of foliage, for the snow of winter as yet
lies on the ground. But the buds are on the branches
— faithful bearers of the promise of the joyous leafage
of more advanced spring and the luxuriant foliage of
the summer. Mute enough and lifeless enough the
buds appear as we give the tree a passing glance. But
when we pause to examine them, they speak to us
most impressively through the forms of life which they
carry concealed within, and the clear revelation which
they make of the working of a vital force in those
hidden forms, toward an ampler development of life,
when they shall be spread open to air and light and the
sight of all eyes. K we would not be content with a
mere passing glance, which gives us no knowledge nor
sense of the wonder of life and living force which a
bud contains, let us put forth our hand and draw it
near to us. Going into garden, or field, or by the
w^ayside, let us put forth our hand to examine the bud
w^hich the earth now brings forth. Looking at its out-
side or sheathing, we may not be much edified or
impressed, yet may a careful scrutiny, even here, show
us the signs of living forces at work within. But if
we carefully dissect the bud or take it asunder, the
marvels of its structure become very impressive and
suggestive. Take a chestnut bud for illustration, as
it is larger and more readily examined by the naked
eye. Observe its sheathing or external covering ; —

SPRING. 119

its interior covering of wool ; — the minute leaf forms
within, &c.

" The earth bringeth forth her bud." The external
and material world presents us with types and figures
to illustrate the growth and development of life in the
inward and spiritual world. Look what the bud is.
We have just noticed its structure. The minute germ
of the future foliage is hidden away in the bud beneath
many coverings. The mysterious principle of life is
lodged in that germ, working from within, outward, in
its own marvellous way, gradually bursting the soft
white wool in which it is swathed, and the multiplied
folds of outward sheathing ui which it was sealed as in
a sealed sepulchre. In some such way is the hidden
life lodged within us all, working still outward, deve-
loping itself through divinely origmated forces and
laws. As in the material world the law is, " to every
seed its own body," so in the spiritual world the growth
and development of the individual life come from the
root principles which we cherish in our heart, as the
chief treasure thereof. Our life comes from our ruling
affections and desires. As in the material world from
the seed of thistles and the bud of thorns grows a
body of thistle and thorn, so in the spiritual world from
a cherished root principle of worldliness and sin grows
a body of character bearing the fruit of worldliness
and sin. As in the material world from the seed of
figs and the bud of grape grows the body of the fig-tree
and the grape, so in the spiritual world from a cherished
root principle of hoHness and righteousness grows a

120 SERMON VIII.

body of character bearing the fruit of holiness and
righteousness. While we are in the flesh and in this
mundane sphere, what we really are may never ade-
quately be made known — at least to each other. But,
in the divinely ordained order of nature, the fall of this
body of flesh will set free the body of character, which
is the spiritual body, and then we shall see, face to
face, clearly, openly, and without the concealment of
outside coverings. Then shall the secret things of all
hearts be revealed, and that w^hich has been covered
shall be openly made known. At present, there are
so many outside coverings and disguises, some know-
ingly put on through craft and simulation, and some
cleaving to us unconsciously, through sheer indolence
or personal wilfulness, that we not only fail to know
each other as we are, but we can scarcely know our-
selves as we ought. We are in such hot haste after
our gains, which we make our God, or after such poor
puerilities as please the whim of the hour, that we
refuse to pause and consider what manner of persons
we are, or what is the character of the hfe which is
growing up within us.

" The earth bringeth forth her bud," and the trees
^ now tell us that she will speedily burst the sepulchre
in which their hfe is now hid, and spread out its various
forms in full view. This is the joyous resurrection of
nature — a resurrection full of promise. What is the
promise of the other resurrection — the resurrection
moral and spiritual ? What is the character of the
life that lies concealed in us all, as the germ lies in

SPRING. 121

tlie bud, for farther growth, and future open manifesta-
tion ? Whence does it seek its nourishment and sup-
port ? What are its ruling affections and desires ?
Does it seek to live by bread alone, or that which
satisfies the sense merely ? Or does it seize and appro-
priate the word of God as a support and joy to the
spirit ? Is it a life of sin bringing forth openly the
baleful fruits of sin, or a life of hidden worldliness
covered over by a cloak of decent outside morality ?
Or is it a life self-denying and devoted, after the
manner of Christ — a " life hid with Christ in God."

Here, my friends, are questions which deeply and
directly concern us all. In all affection I would pre-
sent them for your consideration, as in all sincerity I
would put them to myself. Verily they are great and
grave questions, challenging and demanding precedence
before all others. Here let me recur to the lessons of
the crucifixion in which we have been engaged so
recently. Recal the self-denial, self-sacrifice, love,
obedience and devotion of Christ. His spirit in us
conquers evil in all its forms of selfishness, worldliness
and open sin. His spirit within us brings a new and
potent principle of life, destined to a celestial develop-
ment in grace, glory, and joy eternal.

And here let me recur, likewise, to one of the lessons
suggested at our communion table last Sunday. Pe-
riodic seasons of self-recollection are of signal service
to us in reviewing the several stages of our individual
experience, and reaching an adequate knowledge of
our interior life in its actual character and prevailing
tendencies.

122 • SERMON VIII.

And here, finally, let me recur to the high and
inspiring thought of the resurrection which we con-
sidered also on last Sunday. The resurrection of the
Lord fills us with a hope which, in the faithful soul,
soon ripens into assurance that we, too, shall become
the subjects of a resurrection — of a resurrection unto
life, wherein and whereby we shall be raised to a life
of clearer light, of grander proportions, ot deeper
peace, and of higher joy, than we have ever yet expe-
rienced. " The earth bringeth forth her bud," and
rises to new and joyous life in the spring time, carry-
ing the promise of ampler and more fruitful hfe in
time yet to come. The risen and ascended Christ
has opened the w^ay and made it clear, whereby all
souls may rise from any and every present death of
sin to the life of righteousness. He has shown us all
that, through reception of his spirit, a life may be
formed within — a life of love, loyalty, and devotion
toward God, which time cannot limit, nor eternity
exhaust — a life divine, which is destined to disengage
itself from all mortal conditions, and grow with larger,
brighter and more glorious growth in the open pre-
sence of God throughout an immortal existence.

SERMON IX.

A RETROSPECT.*

EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND FIFTY-FOUR.

For thus hath the Lord said unto me, Go, set a watchman, let him de-
clare what he seeth."— Zs. xxi. 6.

To say that we dwell in a scene which is constantly
changing, is only to repeat what we have all heard a
thousand times. In fact, we exist only through a
process of change, and every hour of our lives as it
comes, carries with it a fresh phase of experience.
If we travel across the field of a landscape, every
step we take places us in a new position, and gives a
point of ohservation differing from that which we had
before. The change may be so gradual that we do
not appreciate it as we proceed, and it is only when
we reach some more conspicuous point where we can

"* Preached on the last day of the year, 1854.

124 SERMON IX.

pause and make comparison, that we can properly
understand "what our progress has accomplished for us.
Some persons can travel across the surface of a hroad
continent without pausing to make any such comparison,
and all that they know or seem to care for, is, that they
have completed their journey. Others, again, take eager
and intelligent note of the ground over which they
pass, and by their habits of observation, help them-
selves, and become helpful to others. In the one class
the faculty of observation is dormant ; in the othor
class, it is awake and active.

The journey of Hfe may be made blindly or intelli-
gently — with care or without care. We may go on
with eye, mind, and heart closed — stolid or indifferent
to its highest meaning, and to the striking lessons
which it presents, or we may have all open, marking
events as they pass, finding material for reflection, and
food for the inner life. In the one case we pass pur-
blind through the world, or at best, find ourselves shut
up within a narrow circle of interests of which self is
the centre. In the other case we look out upon men
and things. We see a wider world than that which
gravitates immediately round our personality. We
recognise a providential order in the passing events.
We mark the forging of the links which are to bind
the future with the past in a grand chain of history.
In the one case we cut ourselves off — so far as our
selfishness and indolence can do so — from the prevail-
ing life of humanity, and narrow the sphere of our
human sympathy. In the other case we extend this

A RETROSPECT. 125

sphere, and by opening our eyes and minds to the
larger life of the world, we enlarge our own nature,
and augment its capacity, both for giving and receiv-
ing. We make the days speak, and the multitude of
years teach us wisdom.

God is in the days as they come, and in the years as
they roll ; and all wisdom which does not see him
there is but folly. Passing events are but historical
chaos unless we can give them a place in the vast
realm of order through heartfelt faith in a Divine
Providence. This conviction of the soul binds them
in the universal order, and bids the understanding be
patient for the explanation and issue. Passing events
are the fragments of history. Sometimes they explain
themselves, or stand explained in the Hght of others
with which they are connected. Sometimes, again,
they are to human eyes dark and doubtful, and if
regarded without reference to % supreme Ruling
Power, their darkness becomes impenetrable, and their
doubtfulness brings despair. A universe without a
God, — no thought can be more mournful than this.
A world without a guiding mind, — even the supposi-
tion thereof is sufficient to unsettle and distract us.
Thanks be to God, he has written himself within us
and without us, and given an assurance to the believ-
ing soul which no darkness can darken, nor doubt
disturb. We see him in the changing days and the
rolling years, and in the burden of events which they
bring.

This is the last day of the year. Commencing on

126 . SERMON IX.

Sunday and closing on Sunday, this departing year is
a marked one in the calendar. But the added sab-
bath which has thus been given to us has not been the
token of a year of rest. It has been a notable year,
standing out from other years in more ways than one.
If the watchman had taken his place in the watchtower
fifty-two weeks since, when this now dying year first
rose new and fresh upon the world in the light of the
resurrection morning ; and if, as the days and weeks
and months and seasons swept past, he had been called
upon to declare what he saw, how varied, and in very
many cases how startling, would have been his report !
Surrounded by the marvellous appliances of our
modern civih'zation, every one may now be his own
watchman. The daily newspaper spreads the world
before him, and he may mark what comes to pass from
the equator to the poles, and throughout every longi-
tude.

And what has the year shown us ? War — fierce,
grim-visaged war — bloody, barbarous war. After
forty years of peace, Europe has been most seriously
disturbed, and three of its first rate Christian powers
involved in war. Greek Christian, Protestant Chris-
tian, and Roman Christian, have mustered their hosts
to the battle, and their ensigns have mingled, some in
deadly strife, and some in friendly alliance with the
banners of the Moslem. The immediate moving cause
of this terrible calamity of nations has been made
plain to every one who took any proper notice of
passing events. The cloud at first appeared no bigger

A RETROSPECT. 127

than a man's hand, yet so obviously threatening that
quick-sighted men had no difficulty in predicting the
consequences. When the paltry dispute about the
" holy places" commenced in Constantinople last year
the British minister there saw that it was going to lead
to grave results. He looked upon it in connection
with past events and interpreted it by the light which
they imparted. Russia in many respects is one of
the most remarkable countries in the world. But
lately born into the grand community of acknowledged
empires, its growth has been that of a giant. Start-
ins into barbarous existence in the cold and barren
regions of the north, it has lengthened its cords and
strengthened its stakes through its rude and unscrupu-
lous native vigor — trampling down ancient kingdoms
in its way, and subduing the tribes and peoples around
it, — until it has become a just object of suspicion and
cause of alarm, both to the European and Asiatic
powers. Take down the map of Europe, and there
you see more than a third, almost one half, of its
tenitorial surface taken up by Russia. You see
Russia stretching west to east, from the shores of the
Baltic to the borders of Asia, and north and south,
from the Arctic to the Euxine. Take down the map
of Asia, and there you see how this vast empire covers
the whole northern portion of the chart — crossing the
Don and the Volga, and laying claim to the shores of
the Caspian — passing over the Ural mountains, and
sweeping clear away to the North Pacific Ocean.
Take down the map of America, and you will see that

128 SERMON IX.

Behring's Strait has not arrested this formidable
march. Russia is continued still, until stopped by a
British frontier, where the long wall of the Rocky
Mountains strikes the shore of the A.rctic Ocean.
Measured from west to east, then, on the map of the
globe, this colossal empire extends from the Baltic
waters in Europe, almost to the Rocky Mountains in
America, while from north to south it reaches from the
Arctic to the waters of the Black Sea and the Caspian,
and to the mountains of the Chinese empire.

Here is a compact extent of territory, under the
absolute control of one governing head, which is
without any parallel in the world. Of course a large
proportion of it is mere barren waste, but still the
empire contains an immense population.* Prior to
the last century Russia exercised but little influence
on European affairs. But the genius and the wonder-
ful energy of Peter the Great, who flourished in
his strength about 150 years since, evolved a
signal change in the condition of his realm, and
with his reign came a new era. Every school boy is
famiUar with his going over to England, and working
as a ship carpenter in one of the dockyards there, with
the view of commencing a fleet, and thus open and
prepare the way for his country to take its place as

* Intellectual life [in Russia]— even physical life— can be allowed to
exist only so far as they assimilate themselves to support the control exer-
cised by Czarism. * * * Every class feels the debasement —
feels that by Nicholas all vitality, all individuality, except his own, are
absorbed or annihilated. Nearly seventy millions of Jiuman beings are,
after all, mere chattels, Uving only for him and through his imperial con-
cession.— Gitrows^'t: Russia as it %9,p. 63.

A RETROSPECT.

129

one of the commanding nations. His genius saw what
was required to make Russia a first-rate power — yes,
more in Europe than any of the present first-rate
powers. His territory was then hemmed in on the
south by Poland and Turkey. He felt the disadvan-
tage of his northern position, and he saw that contact
with the waters of the Euxine and the Mediterranean
was requisite to the consummation of his desire. He
died, but his ideas of Russian greatness lived. Visions
of ambition have always occupied his successors in the
empire. And in these visions Constantinople was still
prominent — Constantinople, key of Europe and Asia,
the depOt of the commercial treasures of the east, the
seat of ancient empire. It was seen as the future capi-
tal of a great and over-shadowing Russia. These
ideas of aggrandisement have been the animating life
of every succeeding emperor.

These are the ideas which have brought the calamities
of war upon Europe during the year now closing — the
end whereof is not yet. The dispute of last year
concerning the " holy places" was but a pretext — the
proper origin lay far behind that. It is a maxim that
the constitutional monarch of England never dies ; but
it may be regarded as no less a maxim that the
aggrandising Czar of Russia never dies. His policy and
ideas live on from age to age, and operate in every
succeeding generation with accumulating force toward
their ultimate object. Poland had been trampled on ;
the Crimea had been secured ; and now the Ottoman
empire is as a " sick and dying man," In the distri-

130 - SERMON IX.

bution of the estate, behold, Constantinople is curs^.
So thought the Czar Nicholas of our daj. Not so, said
the Sultan. Not so, said Britain and France. Hence
the dispute. Hence the horrors of Sinope. Hence the
clash of arms and the flowing blood on the Danube
and the Alma. Hence the carnage at Balaklava and
Inkerman, and the cannonading at Sebastopol.

See then, mj hearers, see what an unholy ambition
does. I know that this is an old story, and a trite
moral, to those who have studied human history. The
lawless ambition of the untamed and unsanctified human
heart has wrought desolation in all ages, and left its
tracks in human blood and human w^oe.

Although we dwell on this side of the Atlantic we see
this war, and feel it too. Three thousand miles of
intervening ocean do not cut us off from it. Our
intercourse with Europe is so direct and constant, that
in a matter of this sort we are as one community with
the old world. It touches us physically, intellectually,
morally, and spiritually. It affects the trade and
commerce, the literature and the conversation of the
civilized world. Many merchant ships are prevented
from freely traversing the great highways of the sea.
The pubhcation of books of a higher order is curtailed
by reason of the prevailing excitement of the public
mind, while the press is prolific of hurried works more
or less related to the great topic which now monopo-
lizes attention. Our passions are agitated by what we
read in the newspapers, and what we hear in the streets.
Through some such means do the influences coming

A RETROSPECT. 131

from this war press upon us all, for better or for worse.

Restraint is demanded — self-restraint. Our feelings
have been outraged by the ambition of the great dis-
turber of Europe, by his profane use of the name of
the Christian religion in his designs, and by repeated
accounts of terrible destruction of human life in battle.
Our hopes have been clouded, so far as they have been
accustomed to look for a permanent pacific civilization,
by his late provocation to war. With feelings thus
outraged, and hopes thus disappointed, we are prone
to go beyond the limits of a just indignation, in the
desire for revenge, though that revenge should involve
still more barbarity, and still more blood. I think I
am not wrong in saying that such a desire springs up
very readily and very naturally in many of us. But
it must be remembered that its tendency is, so far as
it has hold on us, to bring us down to that very bar-
barian level from which we made our first recoil.
Here let us take care. Here let us look to the peace-
ful and benignant Christ. Here let us yield ourselves
to his guidance, and submit our souls to the just and
gracious restraints which his law imposes.

This war is a dark blot on the civilization of the
nineteenth century. But we must not close our eyes
to some of the brighter and more hopeful points con-
nected with it. Hitherto it has been the custom for
rulers to involve their nations in war to gratify personal
animosities, or serve some other personal ends. But
the tardiness and the evident reluctance of British
statesmen to engage in this war, exhausting the

132 SERMON IX.

patience of the people hj continued negotiations for
peace, show that it was undertaken only as a terrible
necessity. Moreover, in aiding Turkey against her
gigantic and grasping foe, Britain and France strive
on the side of humanity. They have distinctly pledged
themselves by treaty not to augment their own territo-
ries thereby. That vast empire of Russia is the col-
ossal type of absolutism. And these great nations
throw their forces in the way of its southward march,
as protectors of European freedom and civilization. A
conflict of ideas is involved in this war. In the triumph
of Russia, absolutism is triumphant, and popular Hberty
depressed. In the defeat of Russia, human freedom
gains a victory, for despotism is shorn of so much
prestige and power. I know not how victory may go
at this present juncture. But for the ultimate triumph
of freedom, justice and humanity, I have no fear. I
have no fear, for I have faith in God.

When we look from Europe to this side of the
Atlantic, we see the cause of liberty and humanity
temporarily depressed in a land called free. While, in
Europe, imperial ambition has been mustering its forces
to push one form of despotism southward, we have
seen, in America, republican cupidity mustering its
forces to push another form of despotism northward.
The struggle was violent and protracted on the Con-
gress floor at Washington, but the legions of slavery
at last carried the posts of freedom. The bulwark of
the Missouri Compromise was broken down ; and the
Slave Power, stimulated and sustained by cotton and

A RETROSPECT.

133

cupidity, became open masters of the nation and the
nation's councils. Territory before made sacred to
liberty by solemn law of the United States, was then
laid open for slavery. It was an audacious conquest,
barbarous in its prominent purpose, and in its operation,
enlarging the domain of barbarism. But that great
and outwardly prosperous nation will find out some-
time — ^mayhap ere long — that there is a higher power
in the universe than cotton ; higher interests than com-
mercial interests ; and a law, a " higher law," which
politicians may not defy with impunity. Multitudes
of noble minds and generous hearts, in the United
States, know and feel all this already. And now that
this last blow has been successfully struck against
justice and an advancing civilization, they think that
the stroke has aroused the conscience of the nation,
and that the cause of freedom will be a speedy gainer
by the reaction.* Already have peaceful hosts emi-
grated from the north, resolved to reconquer a portion
of the fair soil to the exclusive domain of liberty.
Already has the ballot-box been made to speak more
significantly on the side of humanity. Already has a
current set in to renew and strengthen the nation's
faith that *' a man is of more value than the golden
wedge of Ophir," or the .cotton crop of Carolina.

* As these sheets pass through the press in 1868, we can look back and
see how the reaction, above referred to, led to the election of President
Lincoln in 1860. Then came the revolt of the Slave States, involving four
years' civil war, bringing defeat to the insurgents, and the abolition of
slavery in America.

134 " SERMON IX.

0, that that youthful giant nation were true to the
grand ideas which gave it birth !

In the tumult of war and the movement of slavery
which we have noticed, we have seen man as a prime
agent and immediate moving power. His hands deli-
berately raised the warlike weapons in Europo. His
voice voluntarily stormed the defences of freedom in
America. The part he played in these was obvious
and palpable. But in looking to the past of this closing
year other events rise up before the eye of the obser-
ver, in which man had either no part as a moving
power, or was involved so remotely with the origin, as
to conceal from us the precise linuts of his responsibi-
lity. The lengthened and parching drought of the
summer, when the clouds refused rain, though field
and garden yawned for it, and the woods blazed with
fire, putting goodly villages in peril, was beyond
human control. The pestilence which stalked in our
own and other cities, carrying away neighbors and
friends, sparing neither age, nor sex, nor class, was
certainly not within the immediate control of man, and
whether he was remotely responsible for it, or to what
extent, none of us can positively affirm. The dread
disease came, accomplished its fatal and desolating
work, and departed — a mystery in its coming, a mys-
tery in its working, a mystery in its going — defying
the scrutiny of science, and baffling the skill of man.
These were visitations in the natural order of provi-
dence, the causes of which lie too remote for our ken.
They brought anxiety, suffering, and sorrow, and called

A RETROSPECT. 135

for tlie exercise of patience and faith. In a method
of moral and spiritual discipline some such times and
trials seem to be required to moderate the confidence
of man in himself, and dispose him to humiUtj and
devout dependence on God. The gross and undis-
cerning mind may recoil from the lesson, but the more
appreciating spirit will gratefully accept it, and follow
its leadings to the realization of a closer communion
with heaven.

Look from the land to the sea ; and behold what
has taken place there. That vast field of waters co-
vering two-thirds the surface of our planet has been
a wonder and a mystery to man, from the beginning.
Its depths who can reach ? Its hidden places who can
explore ? Its huge form, instinct with motion, who can
measure ? Its heaving and boisterous waves w^ho can
tame ? It rolls freely round the earth, washing the
borders of every continent, everywhere approaching
human abodes, and tempting the genius of man to
adventure upon its yielding form, and to make its
trackless path a highway of intercourse. From the
early days when the men of Tyre put out with their
tardy oars to steal cautiously along the Mediter-
ranean coast, until our own times when stately palaces
float from east to west, and from west to east, plough-
ing the waves of the Atlantic and the Pacific from
shore to shore, the skill and enterprise of man have
found scope and enjoyment upon the great uncertain
deep. Alone with sea and sky, what a feeling that is,
when abroad upon the ocean ! Riding the waves, so

136 ' SERMOX IX.

terrible in their rising and their falling, how the heart
of a man exults, and how the blood courses through his
frame as he does it ! The distant shore, how welcome
the sight thereof when he sees it, and how joyful the
touch when he safely reaches it ! That wide sea, how
it helps men to know their brothers, and bears upon
its broad and flowing surface the products of every
clime ! That wide, deep, heaving sea, how it serves
man ! It brought Tyre to Carthage and opened the
way for commerce and civilization. It floated the
navies of Solomon which carried the gold of Ophir to
Jerusalem. It lifted the modest ships of Columbus
and halted them by the shores of the new western
world. And fleets to-day, more than I can name or
number, are borne upon its surface, binding man to
man, and nation to nation, by ever enlarging ties of
interest and affection. " Lord, how manifold are
thy works ! in wisdom hast thou made them all : the
earth is full of thy riches. So is this great and wide
sea, wherein are things creeping innumerable, both
small and great beasts. There go the ships : there is
that leviathan, whom thou hast mv.de to play therein.
These all wait upon thee ; that thou mayst give them
their meat in due season."

That wide, deep, heaving sea, how it serves man, I
say, but 0, how it masters him likewise ! He rides
the wave which swallows him up. His ships are
ground to powder by its frozen masses, and he is
driven to the most barren of lands to die the most
awful of deaths. The fate of Sir. John Franklin

A RETROSPECT. 137

•

came to light during the year now closing, and it was
a sad and touching story. Hardy martyr to science,
T^eaoe be to thy dust in thy Arctic resting place !
This dying year came into life with a wail of *' sorrow
on the sea." The troop steamship " San Francisco "
was a helpless wreck upon the raging waters, with a
living and dying freight of hundreds of men, when
this year opened upon the world. That wail of
" sorrow on the sea" has hardly ceased since. This
year, 1854, will be memorable as a year of disasters
by sea. During its first month, Lloyd's list reported
an unusually large number of ships and lives lost ;
showing the largest known amount of casualties during
the last 16 years, within the same period. I make
this statement on the authority of a newspaper para-
graph. I sought for Lloyd's list to verify it, and also
to calculate, if possible, the entire losses of the year,-
for my own information, but I could not obtain a copy
in Montreal. The extent of losses on vessels which
have met with disasters during the last twelve months,
has been reported in figures so enormous that I think
we can hardly accept them until we know on what
principle the computation has been made.

We do not, however, require precision in figures to
inform us of the unusual calamities by sea during the
year now closing. It has been the daily report of the
newspapers. Noble ships have left their ports, and
their departure is all that is known of their fate. This
has been the case with the " City of Glasgow," and
many others. Ships have been consumed by fire while

138 SERMON IX.

afloat upon the water, which only quenched the flame
when it swallowed them up. They have been dashed
to pieces on treacherous coasts, or, like the magnifi-
cent " Arctic," they have " sunk like lead in the
mighty waters." Verily the sea, though our servant,
is yet our master. If we ride it too recklessly, it will
startle us with proofs of its awful power. Man
boasteth that he can rule nature, but if he mindethnot
God, nature will rule him. In these particular
disasters by sea I presume not to define the limits of
man's responsibility. But that we wield our powers
subject to imperative conditions, is evident. The
merciful Being who rules supreme over land and sea
ahke, calls on us to observe them. Couras^e must be
mixed with caution, boldness with humility, and the
love of God must be lodged deeper in the soul than
.the love of gain. The loss of property by these
disasters has been enormous, and the loss of life
immense and appalling. The " wail of sorrow on the
sea " has called a long echo of sorrow from the land.
The sad experiences of this year forcibly appeal to us
to reconsider the conditions of our safety and success
upon the ocean.

The departing year, then, has shown us grim-visaged
and bloody war convulsing Europe. It has shown us
the barbarous institution of slavery breaking down the
barrier which marked its bounds in America. It has
shown us these things to modify any too sanguine
expectations which we might cherish with respect to
the progress of civilization in this nineteenth century.

A RETROSPECT.

139

Our too familiar boasting on this head required some
such check. In patience we must possess our souls,
•while Tve wait and -work for the coming of the divine
kingdom.

The departing year has shown us drought and
pestilence. By the discipline of these it has been
caUing on us to look to God and find our proper and
permanent life in a vital union with him. It has shown
us unusual disasters by sea ; and, by the severe and
repeated shocks it has thus administered, it has called
on the busy men " that go down to the sea in ships,
and do business in the great waters," to review the
conditions of their safety and success there.

Historically considered, I think the departing year
more notable and important than any other year since
1848. The great struggles of that year, when France
was revolutionised, and Germany, and Italy, and
Ireland internally convulsed, have been partially
interpreted by the years which have followed. The
great struggle of 1854 must be interpreted by the
future also. I have my hopes and fears, but I pretend
to no present interpretation. Eighteen hundred and
fifty-four is now departing — almost departed — but as
it leaves us it takes its place in the great providential
order, a link in the grand chain of providential history.
It will find its adjustment there independently of any
effort of yours or mine. He that bindeth in one orderly
and harmonious system Orion and the Pleiades, Sun
and Moon, our Earth and the countless worlds which
roll above and around us ; — He will hold the passing

140 SERMON IX.

years in subjection to his infinite plan, and bind every
one of them there in harmony with the ruling idea of
his sublime order.

We have looked at the departing year ; and marked
a few of the more prominent events which the
outward world has presented to our notice. But there
is another world — a world within us — a world of
thought and feehng — a world wherein all that is
without is reflected — a world where character is
silently formed, and the life of the soul elaborated ;
and the survey which the departing year suggests
would be essentially defective if we failed to cast our
eyes there. Does the year at its close find us nearer
to God, or farther away from him, than we were at its
commencement. Does it find us advancing or retro-
grading in the divine life — watching or neglecting the
immortal interests of the soul ? The considerations
here suggested we must defer until our second service.
What time more fitting to think of them than when
the shades of the last evening of the year have
gathered around us? Meantime, and always, may
God dispose every one of us diligently to watch,
patiently to wait, humbly to learn, and devoutly to
adore.

SERMON X.

THE FOUNDATIONS OF NATIONALITY.

" I will make a man more precious than fine gold ; oven a man than the
golden wedge of Ophir."— /s. xiii. 12.

These significant words lie embedded in an ancient
prophecy concerning Babylon. In looking back through
the dim vista of the old and far distant civilizations,
that of Babylon looms up with profuse grandeur and
magnificence. Babylonia, or Chaldea, was the most
ancient kingdom in the world of which we have any
historic knowledge. The Chinese claim an earlier
national existence, and may have had it, but we do
not find it in independent history. The Chaldean or
Babylonian kingdom was probably founded by Nimrod,
of the fourth generation from Noah. It had its place
in Asia, with the Tigris for a boundary, and the
Euphrates roUing through its centre. As these are two
of the rivers which watered Eden we may infer that
the site of this ancient kingdom was ifot far distant
from the spot whence the race from Adam was origin-

ti^^^£^^£'^2^^;i'ti.-.-^

142 . SERMON X.

ally distributed. As well as chronologists can ascer-
tain, the foundation of Babylon, the chief city of the
kingdom, was laid by Nimrod more than twenty-two
centuries before Christ. We read in Genesis of
Nimrod, the son of Cush, a mighty hunter before the
Lord, and the beginning of whose kingdom was Babel.
This mighty hunter laid the foundation of his city
somewhat earlier than his kinsman Ashur laid the
foundation of Nineveh, the capital of the Assyrian
empire, and more than fifty years before his uncle
Mizraim built Memphis, the most ancient capital of
ancient Egypt. The thought of Babylon, then, carries
us far back into the remote past, and this to the con-
templative spirit has not only high charms for the
imagination, but copious material for reflection. In
the vast sweep of time, and in the stupendous revo-
lutions which it accomplishes in human affairs, the
philosophic mind finds matter and scope for some of
its grandest speculations, and the mind that rises higher
than the merely philosophic plane — which possesses the
spirit of religion as a living thing — beholds with won-
der and reverential trust the working of God's great
providential order.

Babylon was planned and constructed on a scale of
immense magnitude, and, standing among the nations
of remote antiquity, it seems to have had a splendor
peculiarly its own. The culminating era of its gran-
deur seems to have been under Nebuchadnezzar, who
flourished about six centuries before Christ, and by
whom the captivity of the Hebrews was completed, and

THE FOUISDATIONS OF NATIONALITY.

i4a

the city of Jerusalem destroyed. If we may credit
Herodotus, who saw Babylon within a century and a
half subsequent to the time of Nebuchadnezzar, its
dimensions were fifteen miles square, enclosed by a
brick wall more than eighty feet thick, and three
hundred and fifty feet high. The circuit of this great
city wall, then, w^as sixty miles. We are not told that
the entire enclosed space was built up, but we are told
of its containing stmctures of surpassing magnitude
and magnificence. The temple of Belus in Babylon
was more extensive in its proportions than the temple
of Jehovah in Jerusalem, and Jehovah's temple was
plundered to add to the wealth of its appointments. The
royal palace with its hanging gardens — immense ter-
races of blooming and luxuriant earth, rising one above
the other to the height of the great wall itself, and
resting upon structures of arched mason work — seems
to belong to the region of imagination, rather than to
that of actual and accomplished fact. Proud of such
tokens of her power and prosperity Babylon sat among
the nations as queen. The prophet speaks of her as
" the golden city" (Js. xiv. 4.) — as " the glory of
kingdoms, the beauty of the Chaldee's excellency.''
( Js. xiii. 19.) He speaks of her thus as " the glory of
kingdoms, and the beauty of the Chaldee's excellency,"
and yet, in the same breath, he declares that she
" shall be as when God overthrew Sodom and Gomor-
rah." •

Here is a portion of the burden of Isaiah concerning
Babylon : " Howl ye ; for the day of the Lord is at

144 • SERMON X.

hand ; it sliall come as destruction from the Almighty

I will punish the world for their evil, and the

wicked for their inK^uity ; I will make

a man more precious than fine gold, even a man than
the golden wedge of Ophir. Therefore I will shake
the heavens, and the earth shall remove out of her
place in the wrath of the Lord of hosts, and in the

day of his fierce anger And Babylon, the glory

of kingdoms, the beauty of the Chaldce's excellency,
shall be as when God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah.
It shall never be inhabited, neither shall it be dwelt
in from generation to generation: neither shall the
Arabian pitch tent there, neither shall the shepherds
make their fold there. But wild beasts of the desert
shall lie there, and their houses shall be full of doleful
creatures ; and the owls shall dwell there, and satyrs
shall dance there. And the wild beasts of the islands
shall cry in their desolate houses, and dragons in their
pleasant palaces, and her time is near to come, and
her days shall not be prolonged." (^la. xiii.) What a
picture of desolation is drawn here ! And I need not
now remind you how it has been accomplished. Even
the beasts, and the owls, have long since ceased to
shelter in its houses and palaces. The sands of the
desert have engulphed the ruins of all, and blotted it
from the face of the earth.

In these tame later days of ours, and with our tamer
habits of thought, we can scarcely understand the fire
of the ancient prophet in his denunciation of human
wickedness — we can scarcely appreciate his terrible

THE FOUNDATIONS OF NATIONALITY. 145

earnestness and energy in asserting the everlasting
laws of God. '' Howl ye," he cries, " for the day of

the Lord is at hand I will punish the world for

their evil I will make a man more precious than

fine gold ; even a man than the golden wedge of
Ophir. Therefore I will shake the heavens, and the
earth shall remove out of her place in the wratli of
the Lord of hosts, and in the day of his fierce anger."
Here is a strong — a vehement assertion of a divine
cverlasiingLaw. Nothing transcends amau in value.
No gold, not even tlie finest, no wealth, no widespread
national domains, no stupendous national monuments —
none of these can rank as a man's erjual in value,
God holds a man in higher estimation than gold, or
any magnificence which gold can buy, or the shining
wealth of Ophir build up, and he will vindicate this
{ law in his dealings with the nations. Yea, he will

overthrow them one by one, as a man turneth over an
ant-hill, until they come to learn, and respect, and five
for this law. Babylon shall fall, and Assyria shall fall,
and Egypt shall fall, and Greece shall fall, and Rome
shall fiill — yea, the heavens shall be shaken, and the
earth thrown from her sphere, if the inhabitants thereof
fail to recognize, and accept, and act upon this de-
clared principle of God's providential government.

I have adverted to some of the details of the visible
greatness of Babylon. And for what purpose ? Was
it merely to excite a moment's wonder by contem-
plating a palace so vast and grand, a wall so thick and
lofty, a temple so capacious and magnificent ? No.

146 SERMON K.

Such a purpose were not worthy this place, and thi&
hour. I did so to the end that ye might take note of
the direction in which the Babylonian civilization put
forth its greatest efforts. It sought wide lational
domains that it might reap a golden harvest of tribute.
It sought to gather to itself the rich and shining wedges
of Ophir. And with these treasures it constructed
and adorned its palaces, its halls, and its temples, until
they became marvels of magnitude and magnificence.
Of a similar type was the Assyrian civilization, as his-
tory informs us, and the exhumed remains thereof show
us at the present day. The Egyptian civilization,
though possessed of some elements of a higher order,
yet had many prominent and important points in com-
mon with it, as the huge remains of Thebes and
Memphis still indicate. And now what is the tale
which such huge remains whisper into the ear of the
thoughtful spirit ? As we meditate among the ruins of
Kamac, or gaze upon the pyramids — as we enter with
some persevering Layard into the buried halls of
Nineveh or Babylon — what is the testimony which
they give concerning man, and the value in which
man was held in those very ancient times ? Do not
these huge remains speak, and bear witness, more
potently than any living voice, and say : " Labor,
labor, by the bodily labor of man, grinding, and long
continued, were we raised in our greatness and glory.
A man was considered as nothing in value, compared
with us. He was crushed and degraded into a beast
of burden that we might be lifted up." Sach, I say, is

THE FOUNDATIONS OP NATIONALITY.

147

the testimony which these huge remains offer con-
cerning the character and tendencies of those ancient
civiUzations. We dare hardly offer an opinion as to
the amount of liuman labor — mere bodily toil and
drudgery — which was expended, say, on the wall of
Babylon, or on the hanging gardens of the palace,
undertaken, it is said, to gratify his queen's whim by
one of the raonarchs of the country. But we may
form some proximate idea thereof, perhaps, from what
we are told of other great structures of antiquity.
We learn through Herodotus (^Lib, ii. — 124.) that a
hundred thousand men were constantly engaged for
twenty years in building one of the pyramids. This
indicates the comparative value of a man in the scale of
that civilization. He was estimated as so much avail-
able force to dig a quarry, or raise a stone. In the
national ledger it might have been written down : —
Dr. To the working lifetime of a hundred thousand
men. Cr. By a pyramid.

The divine law took effect on Babylonia and Egypt .
They fell. They thought less of a man than of a
palace or a pyramid, and they fell. They did not
discern the everlasting truth, that nations are not to
endure by the breadth of their territory, by the wealth
of their cities, or by the magnitude or magnificence of
their structures, but by the quality and character of
their men. A new form of civilization came — that of
Greece with its sages, its heroes, its statesmen, its
artists unrivalled. But neither did Greece appre-
hend the true purpose of national existence, nor the

148 ' SERMON X.

divino secret of national permanence. She wrote the
Iliad, she con^iuered Egypt, she built the Parthenon.
Yet she fell in her tarn. She fell because she did not
rightly value the mass of living men whicli she had in
charge. Then came the Roman Empire, rising ori the
ruins of Greece to the mastery of the world. Here,
too, was wisdom, and courage, and art, and enterprise,
and magnitude, and magnificence. But all these
passed away. Rome did not rightly value the living
men within her wide boundaries — she did not rightly
value and help them as men — and so the nation wither-
ed out of existence by tlie inevitable law of God.

Now as we glance at the fate of the past civilizations
does not tho thought at once revert to the present?
There is the word of the prophet written in the Bible,
teUin;r us that God will make a man — even a man —
more precious than the fine gold of Ophir. But in
the past types of civilization we see the bulk of the
men of the nations depressed and degraded. Instead
of being regarded as the end of the national economy
— instead of being regarded as the objects for whose
welfare and elevation the nation ought to exist — they
are treated merely as an item of the national force,
and used as mere instruments for the attainment of
some false and perishable national end. If war and
conquest be made a national end tliey are sought and
used to attain this. If the erection of huge and
magnificent structures be made a national end they
are sought and used to attain this. And their value is
estimated just in proportion to the help they give

THE FOUNDATIONS OF NATIONALITY. 149

toward these national purposes. According to this
view and method tlie man exists for the help and ser-
vice of the thing, not the thing for the lielp and service
of the man.

How is it in our Anglo-Saxon and American civili-
zation ? This is the main enquiry for us. Tlie past
lies behind us, the future is before us, but the present
is ours. It is with the present, then, that we are
chiefly concerned. The past Is useful to us only so far
as we can make it bear upon the present. This is an
era of great triumphs. Steam belongs to our age, and
the tiill factory chimney, and the swift locomotive, and
the low-lying, far-stretching iron rail. The marvellous
telegraph wire belongs to our age, making a highway
for the li;!:htnin;' as a messenfirer of human thought.
These are at once the symbols and the signals of vic-
tories of a higher order than those of Greek or Roman
conqueror. Through victories like these the most
powerful forces in nature are put in docile training to
the bidding of man. The achievements of the present
age arc wonderful — of a more wonderful order than
those which produced the pyramids or the Parthenon.
Golden lan^ls of Ophir, too, lie beyond the seas to-day,
richer and more productive than the Ophir of Isaiah's
day. To what purpose have these achievements been
made ? For what purpose will they be used ?

These are questions of great moment. And I know
not, my friends, where they press more strongly for
consideration than upon ourselves. For our position
just now Is a very responsible one. , We are laying

150 . SERMON X.

the foundations of nationality under circumstances and
conditions unprecedented in the history of the world.
Two centuries since our country was the battle field of
savage trihes — the warlike Iroquois preyin;^ on the
more peacei'ul Huron and AlgoiKjuin. Gradually has
the white man subdued it to himself, and now we
witness the Avide and ripe fruits of its con(|uest to
civilization. With these results as a basis of future
operations what will Canada be two centuries to como ?
I offer no reply to this question, but suggest it simply
to call uj) thought of the future. We have a future
before us pregnant with great results, and the demand
of God upon us is that wo do our work in the present
not blindly, but intelligently. We cannot see the end
from the beginning — only One Eye can reach so far —
but we may discern and respect the true foundation on
which to build. A great jubilee of material achieve-
ment has just been held in our city.* Crowds of stran-
gers have thronged our streets, borne swiftly hero
from tlieir distant homes by our new-laid railways.
Our own mechanics, in significant procession, have
added to tlio importance of the occasion. The water
which had but lately fallen over the great Niagara, or
the foaming Chaudiere, was made to leap high again
for joy in our squares. By the margin of our broad
river a table was spread, and more than four thousand
men held a feast, which was nothing less than a
wedding feast. Commercial enterprise conceived the

■M^— — — w . u . i»'i iiMH I iiwii ■■II. ■■ ■ I I ——■ —■ ■III !■ ■I N I II <> ■ .I...I — ■■ II ■■ n iM mnH i ■■■■■■i n II lip ■ .i j i j iiiM ■■ — —«■ ■■ . .. —■— ■ II i m II - L iii M i III I mw^MJi^i^iMi^^

• This discourse was preached on the Sunday after the great
Railway Celebration, November, 185C.

THE FOUNDATIONS OP NATIONALITY.

151

idea of marria;^e union between the Atlantic and the
MissisHlf)pi to be consummated on Canadian soil. It
forged tlie wedding ring of solid iron, and proclaimed
the banns, llivers and hills forbade them, but the
genius of commerce had no ear for the veto. It sunk
the coffer-dam beside our city, and showed the St.
Lawrence how it was to be conquered here, and where
Niagara, hoarse with the roar of thousands of ages, had
hollowed out its chasm, it swung across the rope of
wire, and showed it how it was to bo conquered there.
And so the great ocean of the east and the great river
of the west are linked together by bands of iron pass-
ing through our land.

We are laying the foundations of nationality, I say,
and under rare and fortunate circumstances. All the
wisdom and experience of the past are before us for
help and guidance. The marvellous discoveries and
inventions of the present age are fresh before our eyes,
inviting us to apj)ly and extend them. Our Mother
Country, like a true parent dealing with a matured
child, wisely and generously puts us on our own res-
jxiusibilities. A province our country is, but without
any provincial degradation. We stand not in the re-
lation of servants to the old parent land beyond the sea,
but in relation of sons, and we cleave all the more
closely to her because wo feci that our allegiance is
not through constraint of fear, but of affection. Our
land is a land of freedom, broad, generous, and un-
restricted, so that every man, whatever be his creed,
country, or color, — whether he be Protestant or

152 . SEUMON X.

Catholic, African or European — may, within our
borders, enjoy his natural rif^hts of " life, liberty, and
the pursuit of happiness." And look at the facihties
of intercourse and means of enlijL^hteinnent which are
inultiplyin;^ on our hands. Enp^lund was nearly a
thousand years a united and independent nation be-
fore she had a regular stage-coach between Liver-
pool and London. Tedious then were journey ings,
and few jicrsons went abroad, and one part of tho
country could know but little of the other. Canada
has means to-day by which the length of England
could be traversed within her lx>rders between sunrise
and sunset. Steam printing presses are at work for
us, as well as steam locomotives, and no man need re-
main ignorant, but he who loves darkness rather than
light.

Our great and increasing facilities of intercourse
are eminent helps to the advancement of our country.
Times have changed wonderfully within half a century,
and we have changed with them. Forty years since it
was the avowed policy of Britain to maintain a belt of
primitive forest between this city and Lake Champlain,
so that intercourse might be cut olf between Canada
and the United States. The Governor of that period
had instructions from the Colonial Office to let any roads
that might bo in use fall into decay. liord Bathurst
writes to Sir J. Slicrbrooke ; " if any means should
present themselves of letting those roads which have
been already made fall into decay you will best comply
with the views of His Majesty's Government by their

THE FOUNDATIONS OF NATIONALITY.

153

adoption." That was a tirno of suspicion between
kindred nations. We have now left such times not
merely forty hut four liundred years behind us. Our
present Governor sanctions by his presence our ^reat
raih'oad jubilee, which was designed to inaugurate and
mark the opening of more extensive roads and swifter
methods of intercourse than ever entered into the
dreams of his predecessor forty years ago. Sir
Edmund Head, in his speech, says that our great
bridges and railroads will connect us commercially
and amicably witli tlie people of the United States,
and he cordially proposes the health of their President.
From Montreal we can now pass to Lake Champlain in
less than an hour, and by various railways are we
I'nked to our neighbors on the other side of the frontier,
so that wo can pass to and fro, cultivating commerce
and kindliness of feeling. All this seems but the
growth of yesterday, so rapid has it been. Ten years
since, and fifteen miles of railway were all we had in
Canada, but now we have fifteen hundred, equipped
and working. Consider what this may do for us.
Consider how it may be made to consolidate our people,
developo the resources of our country, build up cities
throughout the length and breadth of our wide domain,
and cause the wilderness t/) blossom with the results of
civilization. Take down the map of America and
observe the work which awaits us. There is Canada
stretching from east to west some twelve or fourteen
hundred miles, with the gulf of St. Lawrence on the
one side, and the mediterranean seas of Huron and

154 . SERMON X.

Superior on the other — our noble river making a
highway from end to end. Look at the valley of the
Ottawa, the shores of the great lakes, and the wide
lumbering and agricultural districts penetrated by
helpful streams and railways. Look at the tide of
immigration flowing upon us every season in tens of
thousands, and the nuclei of villages forming, which
our posterity will see developed into large and pros-
perous cities. Look at these things, and behold the
tokens of a great and progressive country passing
from its infancy. And as we look, let us consider
the part which we have to perform. Shall we in
blindness surrender this broad and free domain with
all its grand natural advantages to the sway of a mere
material prosperity, and rest satisfied with the achieve-
ments thereof as the highest for which we ought to
strive? Shall we regard mines, and forests, and
teeming fields, stupendous bridges, railways, and
steamships as of more value than the masses of living
men within our limits ? Shall we thus base our Cana-
dian nationality on Babylonian foundations ? Shall we
thus prepare the way for future defeat and downfall ?
I pray to God against such mistake and sin. The
word of the prophet sounds in our ears : ' I will make
a man of more value than gold, or anything which
gold can buy or build up.' Material development is
useful to us only so far as it promotes the growth of
upright, noble-minded, and holy men. The character
of our people grounded on the law of God is the only
hopeful foundation of our country's welfare. Unless

THE FOUNDATIONS OF NATIONALITY.

155

the mental, moral, and religious growth of our people
keeps full pace with our material prosperity we stand
in jeopardy every hour. Unless we are a nation loving
righteousness more than railways, and hating iniquity
more than mercantile failure, we are raising a national
structure which must fall and perish through its own
lack of soundness.

To what purpose, then, I ask again, will our Anglo-
Saxon and American civilization put the great material
achievements which it has accomplished ? I propose
this question here because we are locked up in this
form — its spirit and tendencies aiFect us at every turn,
and must have a controlling influence in moulding our
national character. And I contemplate it not with-
out misgiving, yet not w^ithout hope. As I look upon
our present order of civilization I see it overhung with
clouds of peril, yet shining through these we may also
see the bow of promise. Yes, both peril and promise
are before us. It would be strange indeed if there
were no peril, since it is the same human nature which
is working in the civilization of to-day, which w^orked
in the days of Nuius and Nebuchadnezzar, of Cyrus and
Csesar, of Pharoah of Egypt, and Phihp of Macedon.
And strange would it be, too, if there were no promise,
since the gospel of the Lord Christ has been hid like
leaven and working in the world for eighteen centuries.
Peril we have, surely. Promise we have, surely.
And no graver lesson can be presented to the men of
the present age than the consideration of these. As
the devout mind contemplates humanity in its present

156 • SERMON X.

rnanifestation and action, in view of the everlasting law
of God which makes a man of more value than the
golden Avedge of Ophir — as it beholds the nations of
the present hoar, and the condition of the masses of
men and women that dwell within their borders — as it
looks upon the leading aims of these nations, and the
prevailing efiforts put forth under their forms of civili-
zation — I need not tell you how much there is to
deplore. I need not tell you how much need there is of
some sign of promise.

I speak still of our cognate Anglo-Saxon nations,
and ask : — As Britain and America in all the wide
extent of their domains, and collective strength of their
people, and magnitude of their achievements, rise up
before us, can we say of a verity that they have wisely
taken warning from the fate of Babylon and the
nations of antiquity ? Can we say that they have
come to estimate a man at his right value — at a
higher value than the golden wedges of Australia or
California, than territory in India or in Mexico, than
railroads, and factories, and steamships, than coals, and
cotton, and sugar ? No. As we look upon these great
nations, we see to what an extent the Babylonian notion
still prevails, and how widely it is still acted upon.
We see, and in sadness we see, that man is still
depressed and degraded into a mere toiling tool— through
which certain ends are to be reached, certain achieve-
ments accomplished. Does Britain desire a portion of
India, or the American Union a part of Mexico ? ^len
are then sought and valued in proportion to their

THE FOUNDATIONS OF NATIONALITY.

157

powers of extermination. A tliousancl, or ten thousand,
or twenty thousand human Hves, besides I know not
hoTT much degradation to those who surv've, will be
paid as an equivalent for the coveted territory. Does
Britain wish to raise coal and metallic ore to serve
great purposes of comfort and commerce ? IVIen are
sent into the bowels of the earth, and valued according
to their powers of digging and dragging in the dark,
damp mine. Do the Southern States of America wish
to cultivate cotton and sugar, and gather wealth there-
by ? Men are made slaves by statute, and sent into the
cane brake and cotton field, and valued according to
their powers of endurance there, just as the horse or
the ox is valued. In all such forms or manifestations
of existing human activities we see a great wrong done
to man, and therefore a great offence to God. In the
system of slavery by statute we see the most deliberate
and daring form of degrading men. But I dwell not
now on special forms, since it suits my present purpose
better to look at the prevaiUng spirit and tendency of
our civilization as a whole. Is this spirit and tendency
Babylonian or divine ? Here we touch a matter of
direct practical interest to us all. We touch a matter
of supreme interest to the generations which are to
follow us on the stage of human affairs. For it amounts
to this : — Shall Britain and America fall as Babylon
and Assyria have fallen, and through similar causes ?
This, surely, is a question of surpassing interest. Blest
with the light of the Gospel, and standing in pre-
sence of God, the Supreme King of nations, it

158 ' SERMON X.

surely becomes us to consider this question se-
riously and earnestly, and govern ourselves accord-
ingly. Let me ask, then, does our present civil-
ization, in its general bearing, contemplate a man
chiefly as a means, or as an end ? Is a man practically
regarded to-day, even by the most advanced Anglo-
Saxon nations, as of higher value than the material
achievements which his persevering toil builds up ? Is
it not beyond denial or dispute that the fair answer to
these questions would reveal the Babylonian, rather
than the divine character of our aims and efforts ? Go
into any city or large active community on either side
of the Atlantic — London, Liverpool, Glasgow, or
Manchester, — New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Balti-
more, or our own city— go into any of these communities,
and what is the palpable spirit of the place ? You per-
ceive at once, that it is accumulation. You see every
nerve strained in this direction. You see men and
things used to this end. If it be thought that the
competition of these larger communities stimulates this
spirit, and exaggerates tliii tendency, then I ask you
to go into the most remote manufacturing or trading
village, and still will you find the presence of the same
spirit. It belongs to our nature. It clings to it, and
in these days and among our race, subdues all things
to itself more readily than any other powx*r I know of.
Nay more, in the pressure which we see constantly
taking place toward the cities, from the more remote
and secluded places of the land, we perceive the work-
ing of this sam3 spirit seeking a field of more intense

THE rOUXDATIOXS OF NATIONALITY.

159

activity. I need not tell you how this spirit in its
practical working regards a man, or how it is disposed
to value him. His worth is estimated according to the
number of dollars, or pounds, which his labor can
reahse.

What is the result of this tendency ? We see it
everywhere — in cities and villages, but especially in
cities, where activity is concentrated — we see it
everywhere in the long and wearying hours of labor
to which men are subjected. With clerk and crafts-
man, employer and employed, the whole tune of Hfe is
* labor, labor.' The giant Accumulation, mounted on
the back of humanity, rides it close to death. The
weight thereof, crushes and smothers humane senti-
ment, religious feeling, all nobler thought, all holier
aspiration. Labor is a great blessing, but it may be
made a great blight. It is a great blessing when
rightly used. No man ever yet felt the full enjoy-
ment of life who did not work. But it becomes an
awful blight to a man when it is abused and exagger-
ated. A man ceases to be a man when he becomes a
mere labor-machine. Yet so it is with these orders
of men, that the whole tune of life is ' labor, labor.'
The English factory-child seeks legislative protection
against the greed of the employer. And well would
it be for the employer sometimes if he could secure
any adequate protection against himself. I speak not
here of the American slave. Legislation has deli-
berately and formally ignored his manhood. Let us
not forget his wrongs. But we speak just now rather

160 ' BEKMON X.

of those wlio are le;^ally free — their own property, not
the property of another. The tendency of tJie present
civiUzation is to oppress them witli labor. City clerks
and shopmen meet and memorialise, and appeal to
public opinion that their hours of Wd may be shoi^t-
ened. But with very little success. They feel that the
tide of the times is strongly set against them, and that
tliey can but feebly bear again.st it, or attempt to stem
it. There is an extensive class of workers, who have
bare time to refresh the worn body, and its wearied
organs, by sleep. They work, and work still, and yet
cannot procure an adequate sup[»ly of the first neces-
saries of life. The reigning spirit of accumulation
grinds them down to the lowest fx/mt. Whilst the
various classes of employed persons are thus straitened
and pressed, more or less, the condition of those who
employ is very generally not much better. We see
them driven from morning to night — their hands
active, or their minds on the rack, in the heat of com-
petition. They have as little leisure for the higher
culture of their minds and hearts — of what belongs
to a full and complete manhood — ^as the poorest
drudge in their pay. And what is more and worse,
frequently they do not seem to feel their want. Very
commonly they appear dead to every higher and
diviner desire.

All this comes from the tendency of our present
civilization, and it is not very difficult t^> see where it
would lead. It is not difficult to see that it leads to
a partial development of manhood, not a full and just

TUE FOUNDATIONS OF NATIONALITY.

161

development. The whole of a man's strength is
drafted oft' in one direetion, when it should be distri-
buted in several directions. J lis duties toliis (jiod,to
his family, and to his better self arc sacrificed — sub-
ordinated to the one- leading aim. The worship of
God in the household is neglected. 1'he worship of
God in the church is neglect^^d, or reduced to the
lowest possible point. The domestic affections are
impoveriiihed, and the home in many a case is only
known as a sort of nightly resting place. All gener-
ous mental culture, such as might come from reading
and meditation, is denied. And the standing reason
for all this neglect is lack of time. The whole tune
of life being ' labor, labor,' the man does not feel that
he has any time to spare for God's more special ser-
vice ; for the better service of his family, or for the
service of his own better self.

Now it is evident that the material achievements of
our present civilization — the steamships, the railroads,
the telegraphs, the factories, the new-found mines of
gold — it is evident that^these, as they arc increased,
are calculated to increase the existing activity of men
by the wider area which they give to their enterprise.
In this way may they augment the tendency to put
the bulk of men under bondage to excessive labor,
and thus stunt their manly and divine growth. Herein
Ues the peril. And if it be not guarded against, and
set aside, the fate of Babylon and Egypt will also be
the fate of Britain and America. If the manhood of
the man be neglected, if his just value in the divine

102 SERMON X.

scale h(i depreciated, if he be regarded merely as a
means to an end, if Km worth be estimated Himply in
proportion to his use in accumulating wealth, or in
building roads, bridges, factories, or palaces, then
must our ciTilization share the fate of the civilizations
of the past. God will vindicate his law, though the
term of the trial given be reckoned by thousands of
years, instead of by hundreds. God will vindicate
his law, and the nations shall fall, if they fail to
recognise that a man is of more value than territory
or structure, than the nuggets of Australia, or the
wedges of Ophir. Yea, they shall cnimble into decay
where the foundations are IJabylonian, and not divine.
I have spoken of the peril of our present civiliza-
tion, and would now speak of its promise. And here
I say again, that it would be strange, indeed, if there
were no promise in our present civilization, seeing that
the leaven of Christianity has l>een hid and working
in the world for eighteen centuries. Through the
coming of Jesus a new element of divine power was
infused into human society. Hereby, I am convinced,
will the world be renovated. Another Babylon can
never be raised, where Christianity is known. Nor
can another Egypt. They belong exclusively to the
past, and can never bo reproduced in the future.
They can never be reproduced in the future, I say,
though the Babylonian principle may be so far repro-
duced as to bring decay and downfal to nations
nominally Cliristian. I look with admiration on the
working and unfolding of God's great order of pro-

TIIR FOUNDATIONS OF NATIONALITY. 1G3

VidimcQ. I look with somethln;^ more than a<hnIratiori
on the working and unfolding of Iiig method of grace
and Balvation. When I look merely at the material
achievements of the present day, I perceive that they
have capacities for tlie help and development of
humanity which those of tlic older civilizations did not
possess. A recent writer on Egypt says that the
social and civil condition of the agricultural pojiulation
of that country at the present day is about the same
as it was in the days of the Pharoahs. Humanity is
stationary in its degradation within sight of the
pyramids. But is it possible that it can remain so by
the side of the railroad track, and the printing press ?
This question at once suggests the wide diiference
between the character of our achievements and those of
the i)ast. Some persons looking at this difference may
be disposed to infer a promise for man's elevation apart
from Christ, and independent of him. But the inference
would be false, the result of a view extremely super-
ficial. Christ cannot be separated from human history.
Man has sometimes attempted strange divorces in the
great order of providence, but he would be regarded as
no less than a fool who should seek to ignore the influence
of Jesus on the mind and heart of the modem world.
His doctrine goes to quicken and expand mind and
heart, and propel to new and wider activities. Subtle
things, it is said, were known in ancient Egypt. Much
curious knowledge lay in the heads of the priesthood.
The surmise of some is that they even held the secret
of steam. But their knowledge, great or little, mostly

164 SERMON X.

died with them. It was not diffusive. It was for
theniHelvcs, not for the race. In hiter times the secrets
of knowledge could not be thus held. Like the gener-
ous Nile- waters they flowed outward, and all around,
to refresh and fructify. This diffusive tendency of
modern knowledge may he traced to the influence of
Christianity. Such diffusiveness is one of the leading
characteristics of Christianity itself. From the first
it protested against its light being put under a bushel.
It placed it on the hill. It spoke its word from the
house-top. It imparted no goodness to be held and
cherished for selfish purposes only. Its injunction
was ; '' freely ye have received, freely give." Thus,
through the gospel of the Lord Jesus, was the mind
and heart of man quickened and stimulated as it never
had been quickened and stimulated before. Hence
came mental development and human progress. Hence
the marvellous march of invention and discovery in
later times, by which the ^?ode^l world is lifted so far
above and beyond the W'.rVl of antiquity. Hence it is
that the Egypt of lo-day, standing on the ground of
the Egypt of the past, was w^ithout steamship or rail-
road until it received the boon from our Christian civi-
lization.

Yes, the material achievements of modern times arc
not mere material achievements. They have a high
moral purpose. They stand not like palace or pyramid,
apart from the great mass of humanity. They pene-
trate into the very centre of the mass to move and help
it. The steam engine is destined in the unfolding of

THE FOUNDATIONS OF NATIONALITY. 165

divine providence to work out a lii;5her purpose than
millowner or stockholder dream of in their aiixious
survey of profits. It is destined to relieve man from
the constant bondage to physical labor, and thus leave
him free for a full development of his manhood. God's
hand of wisdom is in the work. Christ's spirit of hu-
manity is in the work. The /j^rasping spirit of accu-
mulation may seem to lay its hand on it for the time,
and use it solely for its own purposes. But God is
workin^r meanwhile, and men are doln;; a crrander work
than they think of. Until this result come to pass —
until mankind are relieved from the bondage of phy-
sical labor, and are granted leisure and opportunity
for the ciilturci and development of mind and heart, of
what real service, let me ask, have our modern achieve-
ments been to man ? This, I believe, is their true pur-
pose in the grand economy of the divine providence.
Men want freedom and leisure from coiLstant pressing
labor, that their souls may grow with a fitting growth.
The genius of Christianity invites to this. And it is
proof of the wisdom of the Roman Catholic Church that
it has decreed holy-day after holy-day throughout the
year as some relief from the pressure of labor. When
the world gets wiser it will take more leisure and more
recreation. When men come to a better appreciation
of their own value, and t^j a truer understanding of
their destiny, they will think more of the inward, and
less of the outward — more of the mind, heart, and
spirit, than of the wares of Manchester or wedges of
Ophir. Then will it be seen that to build up a true

ICG . SERMON X.

and holy manhood will be a nobler achievement than
to build a palace, a pyramid, or a colossal fortune.

In Jesus we have the sign of promise for the world.
Ilis word was for the raising and the healing of the
nations. The genius of his religion was quickening,
expansive, diffusive. It impelled to new and wider
activities, and it is destined to sanctify tliem all to the
highest use of the human race. Then comes, too, the
Lord himself in his personal and fraternal relation to
the individual soul, infusing into every soul tliat sin-
cerely seeks him a new and heavenly life — imparting
thereto a baptism from on high. In Jesus, then, and
liis religion, we see elements of a new order which enter
into our civilization, and which give it a promise of
permanence which the older civilizations did not possess.
' And it devolves on us as Christians — it devolves on
the Christian Church as the working body of Christian
believers — to give effect to Christianity in the world —
to carry its principles faithfully into the present eco-
nomy of the world's affairs. Jesus by his coming, his
suffering, and dying to save the human soul from sin,
gave the highest emphasis to the value of a man, and
it devolves on us to affirm that value, to maintain it,
and to insist that the economy of the nations shall be
ordered in view thereof. It is not merely that the
weak, the poor, and the enslaved, should have our
sympathy, advocacy, and aid, for the Christian obli-
gation here is palpable, but we should strive, and see
to it, that our, i.e., the Christian, nations should have
for their prevailing economy and policy a basis not

TIIK FOUNDATIONS OP NATIONALITY, 107

Babylonian, but divine. We should strive and sec to
it that all national management and government should
be for the help and elevation of the masses of the men
and women within the Umits of its control, rather than
for the extension of territory, the accumulation of
•wealth, or the erection of huge national structures.
So long as we admit that a man may be kept ignorant
and depressed, as a tool for raising coal, — so long as
we admit that a man may be degraded from his man-
hood, and legally enslaved, as a tool for raising cotton
— so long as by active advocacy or by silent acquies-
cence we admit this, so long do we maintain in effect
that a man is less precious than the gold of Ophir —
yea, less precious than the mines of Newcastle or the
cotton of Carolina.

Standing as we arc here on the banks of the St.
Lawrence — engaged, as we are, in building up a na-
tional structure, let us not so far forget the early days
of civilization in this land as to struggle for material
prosperity as the only thing worthy of our effort. Let
us not forget that among the earliest messengers of
civilization to Canada was the Christian missionary,
who, for the sake of dark and uninstructed men,
braved all tho perils of the savages and the wilderness,
and pitched his habitation here, enduring hardships
betimes, such as we in these days can scarcely under-
stand. He came through love of God and man to
labor in this wild and distant place, and he laid a foun-
dation of religion which no mere material achieve-
ments ought to be permitted to damage or obliterate.

168 . SERMON X.

In the dogmatic and ecclesiastical system which he
brought along with him I have but little faith. It is
not a system which aids advancement in widespread
material prosperity. Had Canada remained under
the sway of such a system, we should have had no
such railway celebration as that which took place
during the past week. This was the fruit of another
and different order of things. But so far as the
Catholic missionary came in the belf- sacrificing spirit
of Christ, and through love of God labored for the
good of man — so far as he came in this spirit,
through this motive, and for this purpose, he was a
pioneer of religion, and it would be a sad commentary
on our Protestant order of civilization if it should
crush and smother an element like this by the dead
weight of mere material achievement. In such a
case we should be false to ourselves, and false to
our ideas of Christianity. We should be false to the
law of God, as laid down in the Bible, and clearly
indicated in the text and elsewhere.

To us has been unfolded with singular emphasis
the divine principle of building up nations in per-
manence and excellence. To endure they must feel
and know that they have nothing more precious
within their borders than their masses of living men,
and that for their permanence they m.ust depend on
the life and character of these men— on the normal
Christian development of their various faculties of
mind, conscience, and heart. Truth, righteousness,
and love — these are everlasting as God himself, and

THE FOUNDATIONS OF NATIONALITY. 169

to have these embodied in the living men and women
who form a nation, cementing them together as a
whole, guiding their thought, and directing their
action — this is to fix therein a god-like principle of
permanence. And not onlj of permanence, but of
progress. For this is a principle of divine life, and
so long as it is retained there can be not only no
fall, but no decline. The nation will not only
endure, but it will advance in prosperity and glory
— prosperity and glory of the highest order. For a
nation cherishing this principle — standing on a basis
like this — there shall be no prophecy of desolation from
the Lord, for the Lord himself will build it up, and
it shall abide as a witness for himself, and a living
monument to his glory upon the earth. '' Blessed is
the nation whose God is the Lord ;" saith the psalmist.
" Let thy mercy, Lord, be upon us, according as
we hope in thee."

SERMON XI.

"RIGHTEOUSNESS EXALTETH A NATION."

THE RELATION OF MORALITY TO NATIONAL

WELL-BEING.

" Righteousness exalteth a nation; but sin is a reproach to any people."
ProT. xiv. 3i.

Here, my friends, is a terse and familiar sentence
taken from the old Hebrew proverbs, and every sylla-
ble it contains is freighted with meaning. Christianity
in its whole spirit and scope crowns it with its sanction,
and aflSrms it with a commanding emphasis. The advent
of the Gospel was at once a signal for the downfal of
the ceremonial law of the Hebrews, which was tran-
sient in its institution, and a fresh testimony from on
high to the value of the moral law, which is eternal
as God himself. The Lord Christ in his coming gave
to this law a deeper significance, and charged it with
a spiritual power which penetrated all the ramifications

RIGHTEOUSNESS EXALTETH A NATION. 171

of man's thought and life. Forms and formaUsm,
rites and rituahsm, were all to bow down before the
august majesty of its presence and confess themselves
useless if they could not help its cause, and worse
than useless if, by any attractions which they might
oflfer, or confusion of thought which they might create,
they should seduce men away in another direction, and
tempt them to divide their allegiance. It was not
merely the overt act of murder or lust which the
blessed Lord condemned in his sermon on the mount,
but the angry thought and the impure affection, out
of which such overt acts sprung. No jot nor tittle of
this supreme law of righteousness was to be annulled
by Christ. In him and through him it was to gain its
p^ per fulfilment. In him and through him the heart
and conscience — the moral nature of man — was brought
face to face with this law. In its presence man was to
live. None of the common resorts of insincerity were
to be recognized or tolerated. This was the clear
teaching of our Divine Master on this point : '' I say
unto you, except your righteousness shall exceed the
righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall
in no case enter the kingdom of heaven."

The Lord's injunction upon us still is, to " seek first
the kingdom of God and his righteousness." Here he
indicates what should be the first and leading aim of
all our seeking and striving. A single eye to God,
and a loving obedience to his law ; this is the Christian
idea of life. The religion of Jesus covers the whole
of life in all its departments, not merely fragmentary

172 - SERMON XI.

parts as special hours, days, or seasons. Not only in
the church and private chamber should we look to
God, as I said this morning, but also in the warehouse,
workshop, and wherever we are. The Lord would
have us to feel that the whole of life is religious, and
that in all we do or think of doing, we should look to
God and to the sanctions of his law. Already, to-day,*
have I reminded you of this, for as year after year
comes to us, and each new year's day at its coming
finds us still entangled in the cares and toils of earthly
life, it seemed to me fit that we should remember it,
to the end that we might make each new year's day
the starting point for a higher goal of Christian living.
My first word of preaching to you on this first day of
the year was, " seek first God and his righteousness."
As Christian men and women, we ought to have a
leading life-purpose, and this should be '^ God and his
righteousness," subordinating there to all other aims
and pursuits. Now it must be observed and remembered
that the same sincere respect for God and his law, and
the same supreme love and loyalty thereto which
builds up the proper life of the individual are also
required to build up the proper life of a nation. That
which lifts us to heavenly citizenship ought to be the
leading guidance in earthly citizenship. " By right-
eousness is a nation exalted," saith the Hebrew pro-
verb. " The nation that will not serve God shall
perish," writes God's prophet. These are emphatic

* January 1st, 1860.

BIGHTEOUSNESS EXALTETH A NATION. 173

declarations of holy writ. Let me now invite you,
then, to some reflections on our duty in this regard,
and consider our obligation, as members of the general
body politic, to affirm and maintain the paramount
necessity of righteousness to our national well-being.
While the first evening shadows of the new year are
r^athering round us, let us, from a Christian point of
view, consider our obligation as citizens to affirm and
maintain the indefeasible claims of truth and justice
in all that relates to the administration of our public
affiiirs. Undoubtedly a nation is growing up here in
Canada, which promises to hold no mean place in the
future annals of civilization. But without pausing to
speculate on the future, we may plainly see that Pro-
vidence has bound up our lot with that of a young
nation w^hich is gradually coming to a consciousness of
its importance through an increasing population, an
increasing development of resources, and an increasing
general activity of its people.

In the divine order of events, God has consigned to
us of this generation the present direction of the des-
tinies of this young and growing country. Herein we
have a great charge — a high responsibiUty. In the
ordering of Providence we stand in our lot here to
build up a new nation in this northern latitude. Look
at our situation on the map, and notice the influences
which bear us company in carrying on the work of
civihzation on this North American Continent. From
the Gulf of Mexico to Hudson's Bay, stretching over
some twenty-five degrees of latitude, we find organized

174 ' SERMON XI.

institutions of government, on a basis more or less
popular, and carried on mainly by men of the Anglo-
Saxon and cognate races, speaking the English tongue.
From the original settlements on the Atlantic coast,
industrial enterprise has pressed far westward, and
leaping over a thousand miles of wilderness, has
already built some cities on the shore of the Pacific.
We may divide this reach of country between the
Mexican Gulf and Hudson's Bay into three parts,
which we may call southern, central, and northern,
and find in each of these parts special characteristics
of governmental policy. In the southern portion, which
comprises the Slave States of the American Union, we
see a prominent vein of barbarism running through the
structure of society, and recognised and upheld by
law. Truths, with respect to the inalienable rights of
men, which the more advanced civilization of this con-
tinent holds to be self-evident, are there denied. By
the power of usage and law, and the national arms,
one-third of the population are held in bondage —
robbed of the right of their own bone, sinew and
muscle. This element of barbarism blocks the way of
progress, and so we find the common instrumentalities
and evidences of national advancement — commercial
enterprise, industrial development, and general educa-
tion — all in a backward or stagnant state. In the
central portion, which comprises the Free States of
the American Union, we see another order of society,
far more active, more prosperous, and more hopeful —
an order of society which acknowledges the rights of

RIGHTEOUSNESS EXALTETH A NATION. 175

all men to life and liberty. And, building on tbis
foundation of the inalienable rights of man, these Free
States have had a national development which, for its
rapidity, is without any parallel in history. But
through their federal connection with the Slave States,
the free basis of their government is tainted and in-
vaded, so that they cannot say of every man within
their limits, that his natural and inalienable rights will
be recognised, and by them maintained. Within their
limits one man may be claimed by another man as his
chattel property, and they cannot say nay, nor put in
any bar to the unrighteous claim. It cannot be said,
then, that in their territory the sacred law of human
freedom has sole and undivided rule. And notwith-
standing their wonderful development in industry,
commerce, and the practical arts, and their widely
spread and well endowed institutions for diffusing
general education, this slight toward one of the sacred
and inalienable rights of man, must stand as a serious
slur on the fair face of their advanced and flourishing
civilization. In the northern portion, which comprises
the combined Provinces of Canada, we see yet another
order of society. Nominally dependent on that great
trans- Atlantic nation, which is the parent and proto-
type of the existing civilization of America, we, the
people of Canada, are really, and in the main, left to
manage our own affairs. Our governmental institutions
rest on a popular basis. Our industrial, commercial,
and general activity is annually increasing, and though
not yet equal to some of the States of the neighboring

176 • SERMON XI.

Union, it bids fair to rival the best of them. Our soil,
like that of our mother country, is strictly free, and
our laws guarantee to every man within our limits, his
natural right to " life, liberty, and the pursuit of hap-
piness."

Thus occupying the northernmost portion of civi-
lized America, we have for our base, geographically
speaking, the Free States of the American Republic,
while above us on the map, and stretching away to the
Arctic Ocean, there is an immense unoccupied terri-
tory, covered wath the same flag wliich covers us, and
waiting to be planted and civilized. On the eastward
the Gulf of St. Lawrence gathers the briny waters
of the Atlantic to lave our shores, while on the west-
ward we have the great fresh water lakes. Coming
from the far north-west, we have the grand stream of
the Ottawa pressing its waters toward our own goodly
city here, where they are received and swallowed up
in the magnificent water course of the St. Lawrence,
which from the farther south-west carries the contents
of our mediterranean seas to the broad bosom of the
Atlantic. Such is the country in which our lot has been
cast by the gracious Providence which casts the lot of
men, and sets them in their respective places on the
earth to carry out the high purposes of God. All the
movements which stir the minds of this continent,
chronicled as they are by the daily press, and in a
language common to us all, must affect us more or less.
By no method can we, nor ought we, cut ourselves off
from general American influences. Our nationality

KIGHTEOUSNESS EXALTETH A NATION. 177

as it grows, must savor of the soil on which it grows.
Our civilization as it advances, must have a proper
affinity for the continent on which it is built up. By
every practicable method, however, ought we to stand
clear of what would morally injure and debase us, from
whatever quarter it may come. From the physical
character of our country, may we see that ample
scope is given us for development in agriculture, com-
merce, and manufacturing industry. Our natural
resources are extensive ; and the increasing facilities
for making them available will naturally stimulate the
energy and enterprise of our people.

A fair field is given us, then, for a promising career
in material prosperity. Shall we rest our national
character and risk our national permanence on this ?
Marked monuments of material progress are rising in
various parts of our country. During the month
just past, the greatest bridge ever built on this planet
has been completed at our own doors. Spanning the
St. Lawrence, it stretches from bank to bank over the
broad stream on those solid piers which defy alike the
weighty rush of the flood and the far weightier rush
of the heaving ice field. Lying there in the morning
or evening sun, it reminds the beholder, who has looked
on both, of that wondrous aqueduct structure, which,
surviving the storms and shocks of eighteen centuries,
still stretches away over the wide field of the Roman
campagna. That colossal fragment of the old Roman
aqueduct remains, but what has become of the old
Roman State and its civilization ? After the lapse of

178 • SERMON XI.

eighteen centuries, shall some curious traveller from
afar, come to look on this bridge and find it serving its
purpose in the midst of advanced Christian civiliza-
tion, wherein righteousness is respected, or shall he
find it a ruin, having done its work the while for a
nation so greedy of gain, and so heedless of truth and
right that the rpt of ungodUness penetrated its bones
and ate out its vitals.

Placed here by Providence to build up a nation,
what sort of builders shall we be ? Shall we ignore
God and live only for self, or to serve some present
purpose of seeming interest or convenience ? If so,
we write shame on our front, and plant the seeds of
disease and decay in our body politic. At the foun-
dation of any hopeful form of civil society, there must
be well conceived ideas of justice and right, an honest
recognition of God, and a sincere respect for his law.
All reliable thinkers affirm this, for they can affirm
nothing else. The greacesi of Ihe ancient Roman
orators is quoted in popular books of our time, as
asserting that " eternal justice is the basis of all
human laws." And one of the most famous of modern
British statesmen proclaims that "justice is the great
standing policy of civil society." But all such utter-
ances of orators and statesmen, whether of ancient or
modern times, are but repetitions and re-affirmations
of what was a proverb in Israel a thousand years
before Cicero spoke, and full seven-and-twenty centu-
ries before Edmund Burke was born. " By righteous-
ness," saith the proverb, '' is a nation exalted."

EIGHTEOUSNESS EXALTETH A NATION. 179

Iq every hopeful structure of civil society, well
conceived ideas of truth and right must lie as funda-
mental. The only permanent foundation of a nation's
welfare must he found in the upright and high resolved
moral character of its people — in the fixed conscious-
ness that hoth as individuals and as a body politic,
they always stand in the very presence of God. It
becomes a leading point in statesmanship, therefore, to
infuse such a character into the nation — by every
available means to elevate the general morality of the
people, and to protect its interests by discountenancing
and withstanding everything which may directly
corrupt and degrade the body politic, or indirectly
tend to lower the general respect for truth and
justice. According to the theory and usage pre-
valent here, the ruling power of the governing
body cannot be regarded as a power distinct from
society, or independent of the general body of the
people governed. From this general body the gov-
erning body derives its influence. The people of
Canada designate and elect the men who manage our
national affairs, and delegate to them the power and
authority so to do. This being the case, we all
become, in a measure, responsible for what they do or
leave undone. Clearly, then, as Christian citizens we
cannot — dare not — close our eyes to the deeds of our
rulers. Their honor is our honor. Their shame our
shame. Their loyal allegiance to truth, to justice, and
to God will redound to our highest welfare as a nation.
Their disregard of morality and disrespect toward

180 * SERMON XI.

God will damage our national prospects and degi-ade
us before heaven and earth.

The people of Canada elect their own law makers.
We send delegates to the legislative halls, and their
laws become our laws. Thej are there bj our will.
They enact by our authority. Herein we have the
essence of free and popular government — a boon most
precious — a blessing highly to be prized. Dishonest
influence introduced here is treason to the whole system.
Corruption in elections defrauds the citizen of his right
and imposes upon him a galling wrong and insult.
Instead of a representative, it basely obtrudes a voice
which will misrepresent him. Every honorable mind
shrinks from contact with such baseness and such
treason to civil rights and social order. Now it has
become too patent to be denied, that in Canada the
honesty and purity of elections are invaded. Fraud,
violence and corruption have been resorted to in some
places to augment the polls, and men have sat and
spoken and voted in parliament, who had neither moral
nor legal right to be there. This is a fact which every
good citizen must deplore, and against which every
honest mind must protest. It is a fact which pro-
claims disregard of all law human and divine. It
shows too clearly a disordered civil condition, and a
debased state of public sentiment, which demands in-
stant attention from every citizen who has at heart the
proper welfare of this land. For verily if we go on
from year to year, heedlessly to " plow iniquity and
sow wickedness, we shall reap the same."

KIGHTEOUSNESS EXALTETH A NATION". 181

With our institutions of popular and responsible
government, the ruling body for the time being — the
executive government — may be fairly taken to repre-
sent the average morality of the country. Perhaps
some of you will say that those who occupy the places
of power and influence ought to be men above the
average morality — that they ought to shine as lights
and be as leaders for the helping of the nation upward
to higher plains of righteousness. The sanguine the-
orist lookinsi; at the rose-colored side of our nineteenth
century civilization would probably say that they must
be so. The simple, well-intentioned citizen, who does
not look too closely at actual facts, would probably con-
tent himself wdth saying that hfe hoped they were so.
The more thoughtful observer, however, will most
likely confine himself to the statement just made :
that with us the ruling body, chosen by the people,
may be fairly taken to represent the average morality
of the people.

Let the people of Canada, then, look at the charac-
ter of their own morality as it may be seen reflected in
the deeds of the men whom they have chosen to carry
on the government of the country. We remember
what our rulers did on their assumption of power some
months more than a year ago.* I allude more partic-
ularly to what was actually done by a certain number
of them, with the tacit sanction of their colleagues — all
representing the sentiment and morality of the people

* In August, 1858.

182 SERMON xr.

of Canada. One assumed one office, and another took
another, a third assumed still another office, and a fourth
yet another. On a given day, in all due form, the Go-
vernor General administering the oath, each in his turn
swore on the holy Evangelists — thus, in the most so-
lemn and emphatic manner which law or custom
provides, invoking Almighty God as a witness to his
veracity — that he should duly and faithfully perform
the functions of the office which he then undertook.
But the next morning these functions were abandoned
and those of other offices assumed. Now as to the
morality of this procedure we must regard the inten-
tion of those who took the oath. If they affirm that
they took it in good faith, honestly proposing to dis-
charge the duties sworn to, then the Christian moralist
has no word of criticism to offer. But if they put in
no such plea, but openly allege that- all this oath
taking was a mere form without any proper intention
of fulfilment — a mere form designed to satisfy the
letter of a statute and serve a party purpose of the
hour — if, by their own allegation, they do in fact
acknowledge that all this solemn oath-taking for the due
and faithful discharge of certain pubhc functions, was
only a necessary formal step towards disclaiming such
functions — a requisite technical proceeding towards
renouncing them — ^h/^n the moralist is imperatively
bound to take issue with them. He cannot stand
mutely by v/hile those wl ? occupy the chief seats of
authority and influence in the country do by their
example debauch the consciences of the people by weak-

RIGHTEOUSNESS EXALTETH A NATION. 183

ening their reverence for the sanctity of an oath. He
must remind them, and all Avho sanction their doings
in this matter, whether on the highest seat of the
country or in the obscurest corner thereof, that the
Almighty God does not exist for any such purpose as
this which they would put him to. He does not occupy
his high place in the universe to the end that embar-
rassed party politicians may make a state-chamber
convenience of him. He does not exist, I say, to
serve any such purpose as this. Such persons may
ring their official bell and summon any official lackey
as a formal witness to their formal proceedings, but
they are not at liberty thus to summon the Supreme
God. He is not their lackey, but their Lord —
the Lord of Lords, as he is King of Kings — the Sove-
reign above all Sovereigns, whose law is above all laws.
We have read of an ancient nation who, to meet an exi-
gency, suspended their laws for a day. But the moral
laws of the universe admit of no such suspension.
By no power of provincial governors, or crown minis-
ters, or party politicians, can the everlasting law of
truth and right be suspended for a moment. Its obli-
gation is strictly perpetual. No casuistry can annul
it. All the clouds which official casuistry may raise to
conceal official delinquency speedily disappear before
the open daylight breeze of honest common sense. In
the estimate of the Christian moraUst what does such
insincere oath-taking amount to ? John Milton, in his
treatise on Christian doctrine, defines perjury in two
forms, one of which '^ consists in making a lawful pro-

184 SERMON XI.

mise under the sanction of an oath, without intending
to perform it, or at least without actually performing
it." " Ye shall not swear by my name falsely,"
saith Jehovah, '* neither shalt thou profane the name
of thy God." No nation can hopefully prosper, or
find the blessing of God, or rejoice in the glory of God,
through such swearing as this. The divine promise
to the nations points in the direction quite opposite.
The sanctity of truth must receive no slight either in
simple word or under form of oath. Truth, on her
radiant throne, must always be kept in view as a
beacon light, and held in high reverence, for she is of
the very essence of God. Thus writes the prophet,
" Thou shalt swear the Lord liveth, in truth, in judg-
ment, and in righteousness ; and the nations shall bless
themselves in him, and in him shall they glory."

I have said that the people of Canada are respon-
sible for their rulers, and that, in view of our popular
institutions, those rulers may at all times be fairly
taken to represent the average morality of the country.
When abroad, during the past year, on the other side
of the Atlantic, I heard this pie?, urged, and I could
not reasonably deny its vahdity. Intelligent persons
abroad only notice our leading political inconsistencies
and glaring sins, which stand as our national reproach.
They cannot see nor understand the intricate net-work
of party purposes through which these things have
been brought to pass. They look directly at the
results and judge accordingly. Morally considered,
the insincere oath-takins; cannot be res^arded other-

RIGHTEOUSNESS EXALTETH A NATION. 185

i
wise than as a very grave affront to the majesty and

sanctity of truth. And though apparently sanctioned
by the majority of this country, through the party
votes of their representatives in parliament, I cannot
but think, that if the people at large had an opportu-
nity of expressing themselves directly concerning this
standing national scandal, by far the greater number
would repudiate it, and protest against it before the
world.

In a young and growing state of society like ours,
we are exposed to many and peculiar trials. Even
in well-matured nations the combination of qualities
requisite to proper statesmanship is only to be found
in a highly gifted few. In the absence of statesmen
in the proper sense of the term — in the absence of men
who, by genius, study, and patient attainment, are
qualified to direct the affairs and shape the destinies
of the country, we are too often left at the mercy of
mere party politicians — men actuated by petty ambi-
tion and narrow personal ends. The statesman keeps
his eye on the welfare, the honor, and the permanent
prosperity of the nation, and he spends his energy and
shapes his policy in this direction. The party politi-
cian keeps his eye on retention of office and emolu-
ment, and whatever wit he has, is kept at work in
plotting and scheming for this purpose. Instead of
large, wise, statesman-like measures of national import,
he is constantly presenting party devices to meet party
emergencies. In the ancient pagan civilization the
internal strifes were those of faction against faction for

186 ' SERMON XI.

the larger share of power. This is the natural tendency
of unenlightened man. The party politician of to-day
rises no higher. In our Christian civilization certain
general principles are recognised as absolutely essential
to social order and the proper honor and prosperity of
nations. The honorable statesman works in view of
these principles, and in all the conflicts to which he is
called he consents to stand on the ground of principle
only, disdaining all baser struggles for oflBce, place, or
personal emolument.

Neither you nor I, my friends, can create states-
men. They are the gift of God. But the humblest
of us can do something toward raising the standard
of general moraHty, and vindicating that law of right-
eousness by which nations are exalted. I ask you not
to which side of party politics you are attached. With
that matter I have no proper concern. It may be of
little consequence to you or to me what particular
person shall occupy the seats of governor and crown
ministers for the time being, but it is of great conse-
quence to us, that whosoever they are they shall hold
God in reverence, and in their public transactions give
just respect to his laws of moraUty. And seeing how
various and weighty are the general social interests
depending on personal veracity, and especially on the
regard given to the sanctity of an Odth, it is of high
importance that our rulers should recognise this, and
hj their influence strengthen the authority of such a
solemn averment in and over the common mind, and
not weaken it. As for political parties, while we may

RIGHTEOUSNESS EXALTETH A NATION. 187

recognize their uses we must confess that on all sides,
and under whatever leaders, they too frequently be-
come snares to personal independence, and shoals
whereon private honor is shipwrecked. As for party
affinities, again, each one must judge and act for him-
self. But in all issues as between honesty and dis-
honest}', sincerity and insincerity, justice and injustice
— in all such moral issues which rise clear above party
lines, we are bound to warn each other, and ought
constantly to stand warned against any compromise
with unrighteousness, though the compromise seem
ever so small, or ever so convenient for the present.
Every such compromise is a sin which a righteous God
cannot but hate — a sin which must degrade and be a
reproach to the nation.

" Righteousn'^ss exalte th a nation ; but sin is a re-
proach to any people." We may hold conventions, as
some of our compatriots have done, or write out con-
stitutions, as some of them still talk of doing, but con-
stitutions, written or unwritten, will be of little avail
unless, by elevating the general morality, we can have
honest and honorable public men to deal with them.
We cannot make a nation out of written parchments
be they ever so skilfully drawn, any more than out of
railways, bridges, or other monuments of material
achievement. Only men can make a nation — high-
minded Christian men, who love righteousness and are
loyal to it, who hate iniquity and abjure it. The great
and loving God by whom kings reign, and princes
decree, and rulers rule, and peoples rise and fall, is the

188 SERMON XI.

perfection of justice and truth. And as we gather
here in the sanctuary to adore him, our prayer and
effort still should be to grow into his likeness through
the growing love of his blessed perfections. The life
of God flowing through upright and faithful souls will
be the life, the strength, and the glory of the nation.
And Christian fathers and mothers, by their daily min-
istrations in the familiar temple of the household, may,
through the devout training of their little ones in that
fear of the Lord which is the beginning of wisdom, and
in that love of God and his righteousness, which is the
everlasting joy and hope of the soul — they may con-
tribute directly to the honor, the proper welfare, and
the hopeful prosperity of the country. As Christian
citizens we have the matter in our own hands. If we
are heedless of God, and disloyal to his law of right-
eousness in our national concerns, we abdicate our
functions, and basely misuse as grand an opportunity
as ever was given to man for building up a free and
prosperous Christian nation. If we are faithful to God
and hold in steady reverence his law of truth and
right, his smile will be upon us, his blessing will bless
us, his hs^nd will help us, and we shall be co-workers
with all upright, noble and holy souls in all lands,
toward hastening the day when all the nations of this
earth shall become the kingdoms of our God and of his
Christ.

Now unto Him who is able to keep us from falling,
the only wise God ; be honor and glory, through
Jesus Christ, for ever and ever. Amen.

SEEMON XII.

THE PLANTING AND PURPOSE OF

AMERICA.

" The lot is cast into the lap ; but the whole disposing thereof is of the
Lord."— Pror. xvi. 33.

This Hebrew proverb is the offspring of religious
faith. In the eyes of the true Hebrew, whatsoever
came to pass was of the Lord's disposal. And this
view, I affirm, sets forth the true philosophy of history.
The human generations come and go — each in its day
does its own work, within its own sphere, and after its
own manner ; but all these, in their coming and going,
and in all that they enact on the stage of time, are
subject to eternal law, which brings them inevitably
into the line of God's providential order. Whatever
may be the apparent tendencies, or accomplished facts
of any given period of history, though the intellect may
be perplexed, yet doth the believing soul stand firm
and patient. For it bears in mind the greatness of the
scale on which He works to whom " a thousand years

190 SERMON xir.

are as one day." And while it bears its own testi-
mony against every form of evil, yet will it not be cast
down, though evil seem to triumph for the while, since
it remembers, too, that in the onward working of the
divine order even the wrath of man shall minister to the
praise of God. Firm and fixed in its faith in God as
Sovereign Tluler, the believing soul wavers not in its
conviction that his eternal laws will in due time vindi-
cate themselves in human history.

Looking at history thus — in the light of religious
faith — I propose to offer some remarks on the Provi-
dential Planting and Purpose of America, This
topic is suggested by the hour now upon us. It is the
eve of the day which specially commemorates the land-
ing of the Puritan Pilgrims on the frozen shore of New
England. This landing forms a notable era in the
history of this continent. Other settlers from other
lands had planted themselves and their institutions in
America before these stern Englishmen came ; but in
the gradual unfolding of the divine order of events, it
became evident that while the one must increase, the
other must decrease. The great tree of American
civilization was to grow from an English root, of which
these Puritan Pilgrims were the most vital fibres. The
life that was in them ramified itself in every direction
— an informing spirit moulding law and usage, more or
less, according to its own form. Deeper than any
other men have they stamped their mark on the civili-
zation of this North American Continent.

"The lot is cast into the lap ; but the whole dispos-

THE PLANTING AND PURPOSE OF AMERICA. 191

ing thereof is of the Lord." An unrighteous persecu-
tion drove the Puritan Pilgrims from their native land.
Thej stood firm, and suffered sore, as witnesses for the
natural rights of man. They accepted their lot in the
spirit of profound religious faith, and used their best
judgment toward the fulfilment of their earthly course.
Their human proposal for themselves and their children,
"was made in conformity with their best light, but the
divine disposal with respect to these men was something
quite different. On leaving European civilization for
an American wilderness they sailed for a port which
Providence never permitted them to reach. The
future held a destiny for them higher than they wist.
Men never appear more grand than when they willingly
do and dare and suffer for conscience sake. For then
and therein we see the assertion of genuine manhood
— the vindication of that nobler part of us which looks
to God and his claims, and renders to those the first
allegiance of the life. " Why stay you here," said the
low-minded wife of Sir Thomas More to her husband
while imprisoned in the tower — " why stay you here in
such discomfort, when your fine house at Chelsea and
all its comforts await you, if you would only do what
the nobles and the best men of the realm have done ?"
" The fine house at Chelsea and all it comforts would
be worse than a prison to me with conscience offended,"
was the noble reply. The king might take his head
and place it on London Bridge, but he should not
invade his conscience. Of a far different faith from
More were the Puritans of the succeeding century ;

192 SERMON i'll.

but for conscience sake they withstood the Stuart as
More had withstood the Tudor. They would not con-
form to the king's religion. They cheerfully accepted
the penalty of non-conformity, and, hunted by arbi-
trary power, they left their homes and homesteads
and native land to seek refuge elsewhere. They tried
Holland, but were dissatisfied there, for they feared
the loss to their children of their dear native language.
And after much weary thought and patient toil the'y
entered their little ship, and pushing away from the
shores of the old world they steered for the American
wilderness.

Man proposes, but it is God who disposes. The
proposed destination of the Puritan Pilgrims was Vir-
ginia. They carried no charter from the crown, for
the king would not grant them a charter. But they
obtained a grant of land from the company in London,
and steered for Virginia. A few years previously the
tobacco plant had been brought into that colony, and
about the time they were starting, the first importation
of negro slaves was landed there. In all probabihty,
then, the result of their human proposal to colonise
Virginia would have been to make them and their
posterity planters of tobacco through the labor of negro
slaves. But another destiny awaited them. The
divine disposal of these men was quite different from
this. Their little ship in her voyage bore too far
northward even for the northern Virginia which they
sought. Their eyes never saw that shore, and when
land at length appeared it was the rugged coast of

THE PLANTING AND PURPOSE OF AMERICA. 198

Massachusetts. They were now too much wearied
by long tossing on the deep to seek for any other,
and here they resolved to land. But before they
should land they had something to consider. They
carried no royal charter. Their landing place was not
within the limits of the Virginia company. They
must, however, have some bond of law— some recognised
political order and constituted authority — to carry
ashore along with them. A political compact was
drawn up in the little cabin of the " Mayflower" and
signed by every man of the pilgrim band. They put
their hands to the instrument which bound them to
order in a political society. They asserted and con-
fessed its authority. All this they did of their own
free will and accord, and then they sought a fitting
landing place. Slowly and with much toil they gained
the shore, and on Plymouth Rock they planted the
system of popular government — a government of the
people by the people. This was God's disposal of these
pilgrims. Their own human proposal, as I have said,
would in all probability have made them planters of
tobacco by negro slaves, but the divine disposal made
them planters of free popular government in America.
Thus God works in history, opening new epochs and
new fields to civilization. In the early dawn and oper-
ing day of human history, Asia, the cradle of our race,
had its time of greatness. For more than twenty con-
tnries past, Europe has held the palm, and it? order of
civilization has been dominant in human atfairs. In
the discovery and planting of America, God's high

194 SEKMON xir.

purpose is visible. Here is a vast continent — a nerr
world — with unfathomed resources and rapid and
rapidly augmenting means of communication with the
old world, offering an outlet to its superabundant popu-
lations — thus placing them in new spheres of activity
under a new set of conditions. Chief among these is
the acknowledged right to manage their own affairs —
to govern themselves without let or hindrance from
mere inherited or traditional privileges, which lie as a
depressing weight on the masses of the people of the
older lands of Asia and Europe. The full significance
and matured promise of American civilization lie in
the future, and are not to be reached by any royal
road or easy way, but through much stumbling and
struggles and tribulation, as we may clearly see at this
time.

With the landing of the Puritan Pilgrims begins the
history of popular government on this continent.
From their small beginning the order of society which
they introduced grew and flourished. At home the
Puritans were the steady opponents of arbitrary power.
To their struggles is the England of to-day indebted
for constitutional freedom. This is conceded by the
best thinkers. If we have the house of Hanover now
on the English throne, ruling there according to con-
stitutional law, instead of the house of Stuart ruling
according to irresponsible will, it is because the Puri-
tans, in the days of their sorest trial, resolutely stood
in defence of ^the primal rights of man. Fixed in
England, and working through the forms of society

THE PLANTING AND PURPOSE OF AMERICA. 195

existing there, the pnnciples of Puritanism produced a
constitutional monarchy, and tamed the intolerance of
the national hierarchy. Removed to an American
wilderness and left to the freest possible development,
they produced a democratic commonwealth — a com-
monwealth wherein the people were their own direct
and only rulers. This type of poHtical society gradu-
ally propagated itself through adjacent regions of
America until it became the prevailing type through-
out a large portion of this continent. It fitted the
time, the place, and the people. In the divine order
of events America became the theatre where all the
capabilities of the individual man had scope for deve-
lopment with the least possible hindrance. God trans-
ferred the seed of a civilized race to this continent to
the end that a new order of society might be brought
forth, capable of meeting the exigencies of a new
world — an order of society wherein every man's skill
and power, whether of mind or muscle, should be
brought into full play under the most encouraging
conditions, to subdue the w^ide domain of nature which
lay between the Atlantic and the Pacific. It was not
given to the Puritans to see the grandeur of prolific
promise which their enterprise carried with it. They
were men of intense religious convictions, but not of
broad social or political views. They would be loyal
to the death to their own ideas of right. They would
permit no man to stand between them and their God.
And thus falling back on the inborn rights of the soul,
they became the providential instruments of a greater

196 SERMON XII.

work than they contemplated. The founders of
popular government in America, they became the
founders of popular education. If men were to be
their own rulers they saw that they should be educated
for the responsibility. A:id from the colonies establish-
ed by the Puritans have gone forth the educators to
every other settlement and state within the American
Union. A great material prosperity has attended
the steps of these free, self-governing states. They
felled the forests of the North. They ploughed the
prairies of the West. They floated ships on lake and
river and ocean. Thus self-governing and prosperous,
these states communicated an influence, and gave an
impetus to other lands along their borders, and our
own Canada has been aided in progress and prosperity
by the progress and prosperity of our neighbors.
Hence it came to pass that this whole continent of North
America became a land of promise to the oppressed,
impoverished, and enterprising in all European lands.
Celt and Teuton and Scandinavian thronged by
hundreds of thousands to its shores, planting their
homes on its broad domain — the instruments of a divine
purpose in building up a new order of society.

Where the material success of a people outstrips
the moral development, the result must be disastrous.
This it would be well for us in Canada to bear in mind,
and with all humihty we should read the lessons of the
present sad and distracted period of American history.*
Let us not suppose that the people of the United

* Spoken in December, 1862.

THE PLANTING AND PURPOSE OF AMERICA. 197

States, on whom the present great calamities have
fallen, are sinners above all others that dwell on this
continent. Verily, unless we repent we shall all like-
wise suffer. No man nor nation can outwit God, or
set at nought his law with impunity. The people of
the United States are and have been human, and
prone to all human errors. The common vices which
attend a rapid material prosperity have been theirs.
*' A thorn in the flesh was given them," as to the
apostle of old, — " a messenger of Satan to buffet
them, lest they should be exalted above measure."
But they dallied with the thorn instead of plucking it
out, and it bred a festering sore in their body politic,
corrupting it and inflaming it, until it has come to
threaten its very life. In the importation of negro
slaves into Virginia about the same time that the
Pilgrims landed in Massachusetts, we see the founda-
tion laid of another order of society, and a very
different one from theirs. In the system of slavery
we see the principal rights of man ignored. The type
of society thus introduced into the Virginia colony
grew after its kind, and matured into an extensive
oligarchy, spreading southward into the regions which
invited slave labor. There was no popular education
there. Out of that instinctive dread of popular educa-
tion which inheres in an oligarchy, we find the Gov-
ernor of Virginia, full sixty years after the settlement
of the colony, writing to the English Privy Council,
and thanking God that they had no free schools nor
printing among them. On the conjoint basis of negro

198 "sermon XII.

slavery and popular ignorance, an order of society
was built up in the Southern Colonies of England in
America, altogether diiferent from that which prevailed
in the Northern Colonies. And when their day of
revolution came, and their assertion of an independent
nationality in a federal union, although a common
danger and a common hope bound North and South
together, yet were the constituent parts of their
separate social order widely dissimilar. In the North,
labor was the work of freemen, and esteemed honorable.
In the South, labor was the work of slaves, and re-
garded as menial. In the Northern States the many
made the laws for the benefit of the many. In the
Soutliiern States the few made the laws for the benefit
of the few. It is evident that a free democracy
based on the primal rights of man, and a slave-holding
oligarchy based on a denial of those rights, conld not
act together in a national capacity without some sur-
render on the one side or the other. The fathers
and founders of the American Union, engaged in a
common struggle for the rights of self-government,
took their stand on the democratic principle. In their
celebrated declaration, they affirmed the equal and
original rights of all men. In their deed of national
compact, they did not give the word Slavery any
place. They regarded it as a temporary institution,
to be borne with for a time, until it should gradually
decay, through the working of free institutions.

What has . been the result ? Quite different from
that which the fathers of the Union looked for. The

THE PLANTING AND PURPOSE OF AMERICA. 199

pilgrims, standing on the natural rights of man, planted
popular government on this continent. One hundred
and fifty years afterwards the founders of the Ameri-
can Union formally reaffirmed the political principles
of the pilgrims in organizing their federal nationality.
For two years past that nationality has been assailed
by an insurrection within its own borders which im-
perils its existence. Wherefore is this so after more
than eighty years of prosperous material growth ? Is
it because the natural rights of man cannot be safely
acknowledged by man ? Is it because the principles of
free popular government have been tried and found
wanting ? Not at all. They have not been honestly
tried, but have been held in abeyance through the
insidious working of an ohgarchy. For a generation
past, the American Union, nominally free and popular
in its government, has been controlled and ruled by
an oligarchy of slaveholders. This body of men, fewer
in number than half the population of New York city,
have managed, through party combinations, to control
the Union for their own purposes. In the interest of
slavery they annexed Texas, made war on Mexico,
held an Ostend Conference to acquire Cuba, invaded
the metropolis of New England with slave hunters,
and broke down the barriers which protected freedom
in the territories. All these things the Southern oligar-
chy did, aided and abetted by the ignorance and
indifference of a large proportion of the Northern people
to the first principles of natural right. And when
these principles are disregarded in a popular system of

200 ■ SERMOi^ xri.

government its course must be swiftly downward and
destructive. The steadj policy of the dominant oligar-
chy was to circumscribe the area of human liberty,
and contravene the free popular principles of govern-
ment planted by the Puritans. To this policy they had
committed the American nation. This was a very
different result, I say, from that which the founders
of the Union contemplated. But the cause thereof
is evident. Within forty years the cotton crop of the
Slave States increased tenfold, and the demand kept
pace with the increase. Here was a mine of wealth
opened and worked by slave labor, which dazzled the
vision of the slaveholders and fired their lust for gain.
Their dazzled vision no longer looked on slavery after
the manner of their fathers, as an anomalous institu-
tion, to be tolerated for a time. New light dawned
upon them, as the unpaid labor of the African race
continued year after year to gather ever-increasing
wealth into their barns. Slavery became divine in
their eyes — an institution to be perpetually cherished
and preserved. Free labor came to be regarded as a
political nuisance and free laborers a peril to society.
Here was a denial of popular rights — a manifest
hostility to free political institutions. This spirit of
the oligarchy strangled the principles of free popular
government. The position taken by the fathers of the
Union, on the natural rights of man, was abandoned by
those who came to have control of the national affairs.
And hence the searching ordeal to which the Ameri-
can Union is subjected at this hour. " Behold the

THE PLANTING AND PURPOSE OF AMERICA. 201

Lord's hand is not shortened." If men or nations
"will " hatch cockatrice' eggs," they may expect to
feel the serpent's fang.

Men may push their human purposes according to
their selfish interests, their wilfulness and their pre-
dominating passions — thus may they " cast the lot
into the lap" of history, "but the whole disposing
thereof is of the Lord." All hopeful human progress
must be worked out on a field of freedom, where the
natural rights of every man must be not only conceded
but protected, no matter what may be his height,
weight, or color. All laws enacted lo the prejudice of
men on account of these distinctions, or any of them,
are essentially unjust — out of the line of the divine
order, and at variance with the infinite justice of God.
How then, are we to regard the present conflict in
the neighboring States in its relation to the high pur-
pose of Providence with respect to this continent ?
In looking at this question we have to clear 'away a
cloud of passion and misapprehension. For, mixed up
with this conflict we have seen a spirit of hostility
manifested towards the old land from which the
Pilgrims sprung, and with which we ourselves have a
privileged connection. This hostility; in the manner
and measure of its expression, and in view of the simple
facts of the case, has been unreasonable and unjust,
and has been prejudicial to the Federal cause in the
mind of the English-speaking populations of the globe.
Its existence, however, may be readily explained, and
may be extenuated. A man cannot be expected to

202 SERMO^r XII.

look ?t iLings reasonably, or express himself calmly,
when it strong and desperate hand is at his throat and
a loaded revolver at his head. And this has been the
situation of the neighboring nation of the United
States for two years past, as it is at this day.

I gladly recognise, however, in welcome contrast to
this spirit of hostility, the movement lately set on foot
by some generous merchants of New York to contri-
bute to the relief of the suffering operatives of Lanca-
shire. Their humane words and Christian deeds will
live in history. Theirs is a more patriotic, because a
more honorable and Christian work than crimination.
It will be far more serviceable to their country. For
thus do the Di^dne laws act: — In giving scope to
our more enlarged sympathies, the benefit returns in
increasing measure from the circumference to the centre.
The blessing does not rest wholly on the receiver, but
falls back on the giver likewise, on him and his.

" Remember the words of the Lord Jesus " For

my part I shall utter no word of crimination or recri-
mination at a juncture like the present. It does not
belong to the Christian pulpit to inflame the passions
of men. At such times it is best for the prophets of
every land to keep their rebukes within their own
borders. And here I gratefully call to mind the
language of one of New England's saintliest sons,
spoken from his pulpit in the metropolis of the Pilgrim
State at a time when hostile passions ran high between
the Old England and the New. During the last war
which was waged between Great Britain and the

THE PLANTING AND PURPOSE OF AMERICA. 203

United States the calm voice of Chandng was heard —
the voice of a true Christian Prophet of the Lord —
bearing generous testimony to the foe which then
openly threatened their shores. Then was the old
nation spoken of as " an illustrious nation, which
for ages has defended and nurtured the interests of
religion, science and humanity ; a nation to which
grateful Europe is now offering acknowledgments for
the protection she has extended over the oppressed . . .
" When such a nation is our foe," he continues, " we
should feel it unworthy and debasing to encourage a
rancorous and vindictive spiiit. Let not approaching
danger disturb recollections or unsettle our principles."
I had read these words before this year, or the last,
but not until I had witnessed the excitement of these
times of war, and the imperious sway which popular
passion exercises over all organs of public utterance,
did I appreciate the prophetic courage of that heroic
and saintly man as he lifted up his voice to mitigate
national asperities and vindicate the character of an
open foe. All honor to the heroic soul that could hold
fast by love and justice amid the rising tides of tumult
which would sweep both away. His last public utterance
was for the freedom of the slave, being an address on
the anniversary of emancipation in the British West
Indies. On his way homeward after that noble utter-
ance he was prostrated by bodily illness, and amid the
glories of an autumn sunset, among the hills of Ver-
mont, on the Lord's day, he closed his eyes in the
sleep of death. All honor, I say again, to his saintly

204 ' SERMOI^ XII.

spirit. God sendeth such as he as lights and landmarks
for the ages. He died twenty years ago, but

" What words he spoke for freedom shall not die."

Aside, then, from any transient cloud of passion or
misapprehension, let us look at the matter in the light
of fixed principles of freedom and justice. Of the two
parties to this sad conflict, which is the more clearly in
the line of the divine order V The Federal Government
is obviously hampered by constitutional limitations
which it is bound to respect. These limitat'ons have
reference to its own partial national interests, and
hold it back from open declaration in favor of uncon-
ditional liberty and justice for all classes of men. Hence
the halting gait with which it approaches the one grand
issue of this contest. Now this is human — pertaining
to all human governments — to study their partial
national interests before universal human interests. It
is visibly stamped on the policy of every government,
whether its form be democracy, monarchy or oligarchy.
The Federal Government, however, in the drift of its
policy is making decisive approaches toward freedom.
It may be said that it does so as a matter of policy
only, and not as a matter of principle. Now this is human
too. Man acts from mixed motives, and the best
of us would not aver that he always acted from
motives pure and simple. I look at facts as deve-
loped in this conflict, and accept with gratitude
every indication of an advancing regard for freedom.
In looking at the policy of the insurgent Confederacy I

THE PLANTING AND PURPOSE OF AMERICA. 205

can see no ray of hope for the millions of my fellow-
men which its oligarchy holds in bondage. Its avowed
purpose of basing its contemplated nationality on
human slavery as the coraer-stone, ought to be regard-
ed as an outrage to the moral sense of the civilized
world. It is at variance with justice and divine order,
and though it should appear to succeed for a time, it
must come to nought in the end. When I look from the
declaration of such a policy to that made by the
President of the Federal Government in his latest
message, I can have no doubt as to which is the more
clearly on the side of divine law and order. He urges
emancipation, and pleads for freedom, as against timid
and halting counsels. He says to his country, " as our
case is new, so must we think anew and act anew. *
* * * In giving freedom to the slave "we assure freedom
to the free." Here is a declaration clearly in harmony
with justice, favorable to human progress, and looking
to a higher order of civilization on this continent. As
to the proximate issue of the great conflict in the
neighboring States, I offer no prediction. Whichever
way it may terminate as a struggle of armed forces, I
have no fear for the ultimate moral result. The iniquity
of slavery will be stricken, and its hfe shortened. Ame-
rica was not discovered to give a permanent home to
a system of human oppression which would not be
tolerated for an hour in any European land. The
divine providence does not work backwards after this
fashion. Free popular government was not planted in
America by the Puritan Pilgrims, watered by their

206 • SERMON XII.

tears, and sanctified by their prayers and suflferings, to
be superseded or permanently checked by the designs
of an oligarchy eager for the buying and selling and
enslavement and perpetual degradation of a weaker
race of fellowmen. The stars of the firmament may fall
from their courses and the hills of the earth may
topple from their foundations, but the onward march
of God's providential order, by the way of justice,
liberty and love, will be onward still. From ocean to
ocean stretches this new continent with its spreading
miles of virgin soil in every degree of latitude, inviting
settlers from the older lands to fell and plough and
sow, themselves the owners sole, with no lord of
domain between them and the Lord of all. God has
indicated its destiny as a large habitation, where the
humanity of man and the dignity of labor will be
recognised, and have fitting respect. We, of this gene-
ration, stand only on the threshold of American history,
yet have we entered on goodly cities which we builded
not, and vineyards which we planted not. In our own
day we labor, and others will enter into our labors. The
men of this generation may stumble in their march,
but God guides the pilgrimage to a consummate
civilization — to an order of society wherein the working
forces and gracious influences of the Gospel will have
done their work in loosing the bands of wickedness and
breaking every yoke, in convincing men of sin and
lifting them into practical harmony with God. So may
Christ visibly reign among men, his law rule in their
institutions, and God be glorified in all.

SERMON XIII.

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE.*

" The law having a shadow of good things to come, and not the veiy
image of the things, can never with those sacrifices, which they offered year
by year continually, make the comers thereunto perfect. * * *

He said, Sacrifice and offering burnt offerings and offering for sin thou
wouldst not, neither hadst pleasure therein, which are offered by the law ;
Then said ho, Lo, I come to do thy will, O God. He taketh away the first
that he may establish the second." — Ueb, x. 1, 8, 9.

We meet this morning, mj friends, within the walls of
a renewed — 1 may say of a new — temple. Two sum-
mers have passed since the walls of the former building

* rreached on Sunday, 12ih Sept., 1858, when the new and enlarged
Church, styled the Church of the Messiah, built by the Montreal Unitarian
Congregation, was opened and set apart for the purposes of public worship.
It is erected on the site of the former Church, which was built by the same
worshipping society, and dedicated in 1846. The foundation walls of the
former building to the full extent of their length, and to the height ot the
flooringabove the basement room, have beenus^•l^ in the present one ; and
additions made at either end. The enlargeme^*, of the building and the
character of the ground demanded an entire change of architectural style.
The former edifice was of the Grecian order.

208 ■ SERMON XIII.

were dismantled and removed to make way for tlie
larger one which we now occupy. As the result of some"
sacrifice, and not a little exertion on your part, this
fair and enlarged house of worship stands here to-day
looking down on the busy city below, as our former one
did during the thirteen years of its existence. In open-
ing it now for the sacred purposes of its erection, as a
home and an altar for our common worship as Chris-
tian disciples, and while the prayer and hymn of dedi-
cation are yet fresh in our hearts, and sounding in our
ears, I would invite you to consider briefly with me a
topic which immediately touches, and directly involves,
the essence of Christian worship. If we would make
the glory of this our second temple transcend that of
the first, we must look farther and deeper than any
outward ritual or material adornment — we must duly
consider, and rightly appreciate, and reverently ren-
der, that inward and spiritual service to which we are
called by Christianity, and which it is the special glory
of the Gospel to promote and extend among men. The
Jew had only one temple in which the acceptable wor-
ship of a proper sacrifice could be rendered. The Lord
Christ broke down this peculiarity by the announce-
ment that the Father could be worshipped everywhere.
In the light of the Gospel it became clear that outward
sacrifices were of no more avail. Yet the Christian
worship has its own proper sacrifice. If Christ annulled
the outward, it was that he might set forth the inward.
If he took away the one, it was that he might establish
the other. Taking the passage of Scripture just cited,

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 209

then, as a text, let me ask your attention to some
remarks on the Cliristian Idea of Sacrifice.

The religious sentiment in man has always manifest-
ed itself in acts of sacrifice. Go where Ave will, and as
far back as we will in the history of our race, we find
sacrifice in some form. The most ancient Indian and
Egyptian, the Greek and Roman of classic history, the
Scandinavian of Northern Europe, and the Aztec of
Southern America — the representatives of all forms of
<;ivilization mid barbarism, have expressed their wor-
ship more or less in this way. Men every where, and
in all conditions of their earthly existence, were prompt-
ed by an instinct of their nature which they could not
resist, to look out of themselves to some other and
higher Power. Amid the magnitude and mystery and
bounty of the outward world their feelings of awe and
wonder and gratitude were excited, and through con-
science, also, they were awakened to a sense of weak-
ness and want within. This led them to look out of
themselves, and seek a connection with some being
whereby they might be helped and strengthened,
and through which they might receive some rest and
satisfaction. Hence came worship in its varied methods
and manifestations.

The character of a people's worship would depend
of course, on their conception of its object, A stern
and cruel deity would be served by stern and cruel
rites. A God of a more mild and merciful cast would
have a corresponding service. In their acts of sacrifice
they would be ruled by their predominating idea, and

210 -^ SERMON xiir.

as they regarded their posture toward the deity as one
of connection or of alienation, so would their sacrifice
be one of gratitude and praise, or one of penitence and
propitiation — a thank-offering, or a sin-offering. You
will observe that I refer the custom of sacrifice to a
natural origin. In opposition to this view many persons
maintain that it was from the first a divine institution —
i. e., an institution specially commanded by God. I
can see no reason why we should affirm or believe such
a thing, for certainly we have no record of any such
command in the Bible. The first mention we have of
sacrifice is to be found in the offering of Cain and Abel,
but there is no divine command set forth in connection
with them. The Scripture simply informs us that
"Abel was a keeper of sheep, but Cain was a tiller of
the ground. And in process of time it came to pass,
that Cain brought of the fruit of the ground an offering
unto the Lord. And Abel, he also brought of the first-
lings of his flock and the fat thereof." (^Gen. iv. 2, 3,
4.) Each man brought of his store, such as it was, and
offered it to the Lord. They acknowledged an unseen
God not only as their own Creator, but as the source,
likewise, of all that the earth did yield and the flock
bring forth. And, prompted by gratitude and rever-
ence, they gave a visible token of that acknowledgment
by the outward offering taken from their fields and
flocks.

If we can find in the nature of the case an adequate
explanation of the origin of sacrifice, we are not called
on — the accepted rules of investigation rather forbid

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE.

211

us — to seek any other. The custom fell into fearful and
most hideous abuse, as when human beings were made
victims, and even parents offered their children. The
fact that human sacrifices have been almost, if not
quite universally, prevalent among the various tribes
and nations of the earth, stands as a sad commentary
on the natural and unguided proclivities of the human
race. Deep in the recesses of the forest the Druid slew
his victims. High up on the pyramid, and upon a block
of jaspar, the Aztec priest officiated at his horrid rites.
In the rude ritual of the ancient Canaanites the cry of
burning children was lost to hearing in the savage din
of drums and trumpets. In such sacrifices we see the
most awful and revolting perversion of the religious
sentiment which the history of man affords. An abuse
so shocking and unnatural could exist only among
people where right ideas of God had faded away, and
the prevailing deity had become the reflected image
of some of the worst human passions. It must have
come from the ' feeling of alienation. They felt that
their God stood wrathfuUy apart from them, and such
hideous sacrifices were designed to propitiate him. This
feeling of alienation is natural to man. His conscience
tells him how far he falls short of— how much he sins
against — his ideal excellence. His own moral nature
is offended, and surely so likewise must his God be
offended. No victim short of the most precious, or that
which will fully represent what is most precious, is
adequate to express his regret for the separation, and
the most precious is offered. The child is given by the

212 ' SERMON XIII.

parent, in some cases the monarch is taken from the
throne, for the sacrifice. The captive taken in war is
brought to the altar, and through the sacrifice of that
human life, as representing that which is most precious
upon earth, the worshipper seeks to placate his God.
The sacrifices are offered — will God accept them, and
be appeased and conciliated ? In some such way do
I satisfy myself concerning the origin of such fearful
abuse of sacrifice.

The abuse here, following the general law in such
things, came from the use. Nothing is clearer in
human experience than the sense of sin. And this
sense of sin brings with it the sense of separation from
God. The soul awakened to a consciousness of this
separation feels ill at ease. Life becomes darkened,
and the universe a hopeless puzzle. The man feels
that reconciliation with his God is needful to the ad-
justment and satisfaction of his moral nature. The
sin is confessed, and the sacrifice offered as an out-
ward and emphatic symbol of the feeling within. Will
God accept the offering, forgive the sin, and relieve
the soul ? This seems to be the simple and natural
theory of the sin offering. Scarcely any subject con-
nected with religion has been more confused, and
complicated by theological discussion, than this one
of sacrifice. The amount of learning, ingenuity and
patience that has been expended upon it has been
immense, and, as it seems to me, mainly to the dark-
ening of counsel. Whatever may be the interest of
such discussions to the student of opinion, to the

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 213

simple religious soul they bring but little profit. With
respect, again, to the thank-offerings, or sacrifices of
thanksgiving, what can be more natural and fit than
they? Man finds himself in a world of mystery,
beauty and bounty. Sky above him, and earth be-
neath, minister to his enjoyment. He feels himself
dependent, and in his best and most deeply meditative
hours his soul dilates with gratitude to the source of such
varied gifts and mercies. He is thankful, and he
takes of what he has received and makes a visible
offering which symbolises the state of his mind and
heart.

In the Mosaic economy of religion we find the prac-
tice of sacrifice recognised and divinely regulated.
Among the Hebrews prior to the giving of the law it
was not reduced to any special system. Every man
might offer his own sacrifice, though it was generally
confided to some person of greater distinction — the
head of the family or the like. But under Moses we find
it organized into a divine institution, the various kinds of
offerings being minutely specified, and an order of men
appointed to take charge of them on behalf of God,
and mediate between Jehovah and his people. The
sacrifice was the central point of the ritual of the
Hebrews. For it the priesthood and temple existed,
and were sustained. The central point of a ritual
divinely instituted, we are authorized in looking to it
for some special symbolic meaning, and seek in its
temporary and limited form, a substance permanent
and universal.

214 ' SERMON XIII.

Theologians quite commonly tell us that the -whole
ritual of the Hebrews pointed to the Gospel, and that
the high sacrifice thereof typified that of the Lord
Christ. I accept the statement in its broadest and
deepest meaning, without pledging myself to verbal
and specific details. All sacrifice I regard as sym-
bolical of the proper Christian sacrifice, which is, the
destruction of self-will^ to the end that the will of God
may take its place, and rule supreme in the soul.
This is the substance of all proper sacrifice, and it was
shown forth in a dim and imperfect way by the sacri-
fices of the Mosaic law. Therein it appeared in and
by " a shadow." But in Christ the substance took
form — actual and perfect form. In him it became
embodied in a living and visible person, and was thus
projected into the field of human history. For high
and providential purposes it was thus presented — a
complete representation — " the very image" of the
proper sacrifice required of man, and through which
he is to be made perfect. Christ w^as the end of the
Mosaic law. In his death on Calvary the Hebrew
ritual was brought to a close. This was the announce-
ment that thenceforth the character of the sacrifice was
to be changed. It was to assume grander proportions,
and to touch man at every point of his most hidden life
and being. Through centuries of training in the
school of Moses, by varied rite and symbol, was the
world led to the open and full manifestation of the
reality which formed the substance of the symbol.
The shadow pa&sed away, as the full and perfect image,
which was shown in Christ, rose upon the world. ,

"*"""" ^ ■ " ^ 1 1

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 215

Says the writer to the Hebrews, in our text : — " The
law having a shadow of good things to come, and not
the very image of the things, can never with those
sacrifices which they o&ered year by year continually,
make the comers thereunto perfect Sacri-
fice and offering, he said, and burnt offering and offer-
ing for sin thou wouldst not, neither hadst pleasure
therein, which are offered by the law ; Then said he,
Lo, I come to do thy will, God. He taketh away
the first, that he may establish the second."

You will remember, I hope, what this epistle is, from
which our text is taken. It is a letter written by a
Hebrew to Hebrews in the first age of Christianity,
almost eighteen centuries ago. It was written most
probably while the temple was yet standing in Jerusa-
lem, and the Jewish ritual still observed. Under
these circumstances the writer's thoughts naturally
flowed into the Jewish moulds of language. The gos-
pel was opposed by its adversaries attached to the
Mosaic ritual, as slighting that ritual, and destructive
thereof. And the writer, to give assurance and cour-
age to the Jewish converts to Christianity, some of
whom might be wavering in their profession, proceeds
to show that so far from slio;htinoj the ceremonial of
Judaism, it completely fulfilled it. With this view he
presents the sanctuary, the priests, and the sacrifices,
to set forth Christ, and as figures to illustrate Christ's
mission and work. Had the Jews a tabernacle and
sanctuary ? So had the Christians : — a " true taber-
nacle which the Lord pitched, and not man." (viii. 2.)

216 SERMON XIII.

Had the Jews a high-priest ? So had the Christians :
— a " great high-priest that is passed into the heavens,
Jesus the Son of God ; " (iv. 11.) — " a high-priest
of good things to come, by a greater and more perfect
tabernacle not made with hands." (ix. 11.) Had
the Jews a sacrifice ? So had the Christians. But
the Christians' high-priest " needed not daily, as the
high-priests of the Jews did, to offer up sacrifice, first
fo rhis own sins, and then for the people's ; for this
he did once, when he offered up himself." (vii. 27.)
He offered vp himself. I ask you to mark this. Here
the priest and the sacrifice are identical. This is
self-dedication — self-sacrifice. In Christ it was unre-
served, complete, perfect. As such it was the con-
summation of all that was typified and shadowed forth
by the former ritual.

For, when we come to reflect upon the matter, what
is the fundamental idea involved in all sacrifice ? Is it
not this — the acknowledgment of God's right and
dominion over man, and over all that man possesses,
whether of inward faculty or outward thing ? In sacri-
fice, man, by offering a part, sets forth his obligation
to God for the whole. In ritual times the extent of the
obligation was sometimes forgotten, and the substan-
tial idea lost sight of. Then the rite became a hollow
form, and was displeasing to God. The priest might
practice his ritual, as he was bound to do, but when he
and people alike lost sight of its inward significance
and proper end, the prophet was raised to announce
its significance, and proclaim the will of God anew to

tmmnmim'

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 217

both priest and people. And I need not remind
;you with what emphasis and power those old Hebrew
prophets spake, in calling the nation back to God, and
to obedience to God's will. " Hath the Lord as great
delight in burnt-ofiferings and sacrifices as in obeying
the voice of the Lord ?" demands Samuel ; and his
testimony is " Behold to obey is better than sacrifice,
and to hearken than the fat of rams." (1 Sam. xv.
22.) " Hear the word of the Lord," cries Isaiah, " To
what purpose is the multitude of your sacrifices unto
me ? saith the Lord, I am full of the burnt offerings of
rams, and the fat of fed beasts ; and I delight not in
the blood of bullocks, or of lambs, or of he goats.
When ye come to appear before me, who hath required
this at your hands, to tread my courts ? Bring no more
vain oblations : incense is an abomination unto me ;
the new moons and sabbaths, the calling of assemblies,
I cannot away with; it is iniquity, even the solemn
meeting. Your new moons and your appointed feasts
my soul hateth, they are a trouble unto me ; I am
weary to bear them. And when ye spread forth your
hands, I will hide mine eyes from you ; yea, when ye
make many prayers I will not hear ; your hands are
full of blood. Wash you, make you clean ; put away
the evil of your doings from before mine eyes ; cease
to do evil ; learn to do well ; seek judgment, relieve
the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the
widow." (J«. i. 11^17.) Thus it was, that when,
through spiritual blindness, the inward significance and
ultimate purpose of the ritual was lost sight of, mercy,

218 ' SERMON XIII.

and not sacrifice, became the emphatic demand — the
inward and active principle of holy obedience, not the
outward and dead form of a ritual observance. Man
might offer a part of his outward substance as a sacri-
fice to God, and yet make no soul-offering at all — not
even the faintest feeling of penitence, the feeblest
emotion of gratitude, or the slightest movement of
desire toward a thorough and loving obedience. But
in such an offering there was no meaning. In such an
offering there could be no value.

Take up the fundamental idea just referred to, and
trace it to its last result, and what is its legitimate
requisition ? God's dominion over man is acknow-
ledged. In the ritual sacrifice man offers a part of his
outward substance,. and of his inward being, in token
of his obligation to God. A part, I say, but why only
a part? Where can he draw the line and say, this is
verily God's, and this is not ? No such line can be drawn,
for all is God's, and the ultima', f^ indication, therefore,
is, that in a full and true service all must be off3r«3d
to him. So long as anything is kept back the service
is incomplete. Now in view of this may we see how
significant the mission of the Lord Jesus was, as ful-
filling the former law, and opening a new spiritual
economy. Jesus kept nothing back. His offering was
complete — being nothing short of himself — heart and
soul and mind and strength. The key-note of his advent
was " Lo, I come to do thy will, God." His daily
meat, as he said, was to do the will of his Fathar who
sent him. To him the universe was an open temple,

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 219

and every thought, feeling, word and act became con-
secrate to God. His was a complete self-surrender,
and he became the willing and devoted instrument of
the Father in his high purposes of love. The great
and constant sacrifice of Christ was brought to a close by
his death on Calvary, the blood of which stands as the
seal thereof to all people, speaking better things than
the blood of Abel, and testifying a love unparalleled
and most attractive, — a love sufficient to draw all men
unto him. In that death on Calvary we see the grand
turning point and link of the two dispensations. In
that perfect sacrifice of Christ we see the close of all
ritual sacrifice, and the consummation, as I have said,
of the complete and proper sacrifice. Now that the
proper sacrifice is made manifest, the imperfect symbol
is annulled. A new epoch is begun, and as the pre-
vious ritual had partially shadowed forth what was
fully accomplished in and by Christ : so now does he,
the Messiah, become " the very image" and type of
the new order of sacrifice required by the new dis-
pensation — a sacrifice wherein nothing can be with-
held, but in which all must be oifered. We only
require to look at the Gospel narratives to see how
completely our Lord gave up his will, and the strength
of his life, to God. We see there how he became a
living and willing sacrifice, undeterred by the opposi-
tion which beset him, or the suffering which stared
him in the face. Tempted as we are, yet without sin,
he went out day by day and braved the frowns and
threats and evil treatment of wicked men in doing his

220 • SERMON xiir.

Father's will, and carrying forward his Father's work.
And then by night he sought fresh strength amid the
stillness of the olive groves in prayer to God. No
earthly mind understood him, or appreciated his pur-
pose. In solitary spiritual majesty he moved among
men, winning hearts, and conquering the souls who
were to be witnesses for him when he should be taken
away. Yet his closest friends and dearest disciples did
not discern the actual grandeur of his character. They
knew that he loved them, and they loved him in return,
but they could not comprehend his full spiritual pro-
portions. No earthly home had he. The foxes had
holes and the birds of the air had nests, but he had
not where to lay his head. And the hour was coming
when his chosen disciples should be scattered, every
man to his own, leaving him alone, and without a com-
panion on earth to utter a word of sympathy, and yet
he could say he was not alone, for the Father was with
him. Such was the life of the Lord Christ. No sel-
fishness was in it, nor shadow of self-seeking. A sacri-
fice it was, from its beginning to its close. And when
the close came, it was sacrifice still. The cross was
raised, and he was lifted up thereon. Its agony was
borne, for the key-note of his advent still sounded clear
and strong through all the chambers of his being :
*' Lo, I come to do thy will, God." Amid the
tears of Gethsemane, in those closing hours of his life,
we still hear him pray, and say " Father, not my will,
but thy will be done."

I have now indicated the complete and proper sacri-

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 221

fice as shown forth in and by Christ. And hereby may
we see the nature of the sacrifice required of the
Christian, as distinguished from that which was requir-
ed of the Hebrew. If the blood of animals, and the
outward offering be no longer demanded at the altar
within the temple, it is that soul and body, thought and
life be surrendered to the willing service of God in all
places. If the Messiah took away the one, it was that
he might establish the other. Remember the key-note
of his life : " Lo, I come to do thy will, God.''
Linked to his Lord by a living tie of love, gratitude
and sympathy, the genuine disciple will find that this
key-note is for him likewise. For him, too, the universe
is the temple, and every spot where a Christian man
stands is an altar. In view of the clear and close rela-
tion which the Christian can see and recognise between
himself and his God, this full sacrifice of obedient
service is most fit and reasonable. So the apostle
Paul, in his letter to the Romans, confidently writes :
" I beseech you, brethren, by the mercies of God, that
ye present your bodies living sacrifices, holy, acceptable
unto God, which is your reasonable service." (xii. 1.)
This, then, is the Christian Sacrifice — the complete
dedication of ourselves to God. This is the full service
which the former ritual service but faintly and parMally
prefigured. The Christian man discerns that not only
what he has, but likewise what he is, comes from God,
and he would consecrate all, in its use and purpose to
the Giver. This perfect surrender of self, and thorough
devotion of every feeling and faculty to the Highest —

222 ' SERMON XIII.

this, whether in earth or heaven, is the summit of reli-
gious effort, the crowning result of religious aspiration.
"Would it not be well for the world if this doctrine of
the Christian sacrifice could be every where presented
to men in its simplicity ? Christ's mission was a ministry
of reconciliation by sacrifice. The sacrifice of a con-
trite heart, moved by penitence like that of the pro-
digal in the Lord's parable, we know our Heavenly
Father will not despise. In this touching parable the
whole method of atonqment or reconciliation is revealed.
In the light of the better hope brought in by Christ
may we see that if we draw nigh to God after the
manner of the prodigal's penitence, and with vital faith
in Christ's complete sacrifice — such a faith therein as
availeth to mould our lives according to the spirit and
pattern of our Lord's perfect life — God will draw nigh
to us, and we shall find the joy of the reconciliation.
But the theology of the current orthodoxy comes in to
perplex men here, and to obscure the simplicity of
Christ. It still lingers among Judaic elements, and
insists that certain Levitical ideas shall be carried into
Christianity. Men's minds are held in bondage there-
to, and traditional prejudices block up the way of pro-
gress for the pure and simple Gospel. Theology
which is always to be distinguished from religion, is a
human science, and is fluctuating in its character, not
fixed: The student of theological opinion, as he traces
its past history, can recognise and distinctly mark the
various epochs of its development, just as the student
of geology can mark the various epochs of the earth's

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 228

formation. In the early ages of the church it was a
prevalent opinion of theologians that the devil had a
right over men, and that Christ gave up his life as a
ransom to him, so that men might be made free of the
deviFs claim and dominion. Thus argues Irenseus in
the second century : " A ransom," he says, " is paid to
deliver captives from the hands of their enemies. But
if Christ gave his life a ransom for us, to whom did he
give it ? It must hare been to an enemy who held us
captive. And who could this be except the devil ?"
This view, absurd as it may. now appear to us, could
be maintained by a partial and literal interpretation of
certain texts of Scripture. In the lapse of time this
theory lost its hold, and other opinions became from
time to time the prevalent and popular ones. Calvin
in the sixteenth century wrote, in his Institutes of the
Christian Religion,* that Christ " was appointed to this
purpose, with his sacrifice to appease the wrath of God.''
" This is our acquittal," he says, " that the guiltiness
which made us subject to punishment, is removed upon
the head of the feon of God. For this setting of one
against the other, we ought principally to hold fast, lest
we tremble, and be careful all our hfe long, as though the
just vengeance of God did hang over us, which the Son
of God hath taken upon himself." This is the doctrine
of vicarious atonement, or sacrifice of substitution^
which may be regarded as the conventional orthodoxy
of our day. By far the most popular preacher of Great
Britain reiterates the Calvinistic dogma, and proclaims

* Book ii. ch. xvi. xvii.

224 " SERMON XIII.

that the Gospel is, in one word, Substitution. A
leading divine* of the metropolis of New England, in
a sermon recently published, declares that " sin can
be forgiven only by faith in Jesus Christ, who, by his
sufferings and death, is a substitute for the sinner, and
constitutes for him a righteousness which takes away
his condemnation, and prepares for his sanctification
and salvation." These are the utterances of current
Protestant orthodoxy, and they indicate the stage of
development which its theology has reached. It is
not allowed to rest here, however, for among the ablest
opponents of this theory of substitution and vicarious
atonement, are now to be found men in connection with
churches which still acknowledged the traditional
orthodox creeds. Never before were these creeds
subjected to so severe a test as they are just now, in
the rising and agitated tide of human thought. They
are strained and straining at every point, like the worn-
out ship when the swell of the ocean heaves her to and
fro, and tlie strong gales of the Atlantic press upon
every spar. It is not to be denied that this theory of
Calvin, like that of Irenaeus in the second century, may
be maintained by a partial and literal interpretation of
certain passages of Scripture. But the literal inter-
pretation of figurative language in the Bible must, in
the course of time, and in the light of clearer know-
ledge, be abandoned, and an interpretation given and
acknowledged, which will harmonize with the general
scope of the sacred records, and with the admitted

* Dr. N. Adams of Boston, in Discourse on Endless Punishment.

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 225

attributes of God. We are of those who look forward
with perfect confidence to that coming time of clearer
light, when the obscurities and perplexities which
human speculation has thrown around this doctrine of
the Christian Sacrifice will be dispelled, and the doc-
trine itself stand forth in its simplicity and comprehen-
siveness, its spiritual depth and grandeur, and full
practical power.

The conventional orthodoxy, resting in its vicarious
element, does not come up to the proper Christian idea of
sacrifice. But we must not halt with orthodoxy at this,
its lower level, as if there were nothing higher to be
attained. We shall surely perplex ourselves, and run
risk of the worst errors of the worst outward ritualism of
former times if we sufi'er ourselves to rest in any thought
or belief which throws the slightest tinge of ill-will into
our conception of the great and loving God. He is
verily a just God, but his love keeps constant march
with his justice. Christ is a loving Savior, but in his
perfect character, justice also asserts its claim, step by
step, with the claims of love. Most perplexing and
perilous will it be for us if we rest in any thought which
relaxes the strictness of individual responsibility in the
matter of sin and righteousness, by any dogmatic
representations of the arbitrary transfer of one or other
— of sin to the righteous or of righteoasness to the sin-
ner. Most perplexing and perilous will it be for us if
we allow ourselves to believe that Christ had any
measure of love for us which the Father had not, or
that any throb of forgiving pity toward men was felt

226 ' SERMON xni.

by him whicli was not felt in all its fulness by the gra-
cious and almighty God himself. God and Christ —
the Father and the Son — are in strict harmony at every
point in the work of elevating and saving men, redeem-
ing them from sin, and leading them to righteousness.
God is in Christ reconcihng the world unto himself,
and if we follow Christ in the spirit of his perfect
sacrifice — surrendering ourselves to the willing service
of God — Christ will be in us the hope of glory. " I
and my Father are one," said Jesus. They are in close
and constant union. The will of the Father is still the
will of the faithful and devoted Son. And the prayer
of Jesus is that all his disciples may be lifted through
the power of spiritual sympathy into the same blessed
union, and held there by the bond of a willing obedience.
I pray, saith he, '' that they all may be one, as thou,
Father art, in me, and I in thee, that they also may be
one in us." All self-will and opposing will annihilated,
and the w^ill of God reigning supreme in every intel-
lit^ent soul— this is the consummation which the Gospel
proposes to effect. To this end the Lord instructs his
disciples to pray in their daily prayer that God's will
may be done on earth as it is in heaven.

The spring of the highest life in man — the life which
comes from perfect surrender of self-will to the will of
Qq^ — is the appreciation and appropriation of the
sacrifice of Christ, i.e., of the spirit which led to that
sacrifice. As a manifestation of love it appeals to the
affections, and enlists this strongest part of our nature
on the side of God. All other priests and high-priests

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE.

227

had offered a part. Jesus, the true high-priest of the
new dispensation, offered the whole — even himself. He
is " the very image" and full representation of that of
which the law was but " a shadow." He is the
perfect type of that complete sacrifice of which the law
was the imperfect one. Thus does he open up a new
and living way wherein all men are called to become
priests unto God, and offer unto him the sacrifice of a
consecrated heart and life. In a word, according to
the Christian idea, each man is to offer up himself as
a '' living sacrifice."

According to this view of the Christian Sacrifice
you will at once observe how vast must be the sweep
of its application. Looking at the matter, however,
as it is commonly apprehended, we find two differing
methods adopted, which we may characterize respect-
ively as the contemplative and the active.

In the former, i.e., in the contemplative method,
the Christian, to the end that he may present himself
a living sacrifice unto God, withdraws from the sphere
of active life among men. His leading idea in doing
so is one which existed before Christianity, and had
its origin in the ancient notion of an essential anta-
gonism between spirit and matter, and between God
and the common world of men and things. Hence he
is led to separate himself, and devote himself wholly
to devout meditation. Multitudes of most earnest
souls have thus devoted themselves. Freely giving
up all the advantages and enjoyments of social fife,
they have sought solitude in order to offer themselves

228 ' SERMON' xiir.

more complete! j to God. Here they sought and'
found their highest luxury in contemplation and prayer.
Recognising God as the fountain of all being, and the^
Lord of all that exists, they have made free-will offer-
ing to him of all thought and feeling, and so far as
human effort could reach they have striven to merge-
themselves in the Infinite.

Let us do justice to the contemplative method, and
confess the devoted piety which it has cherished and
perfected. In cell and in cloister has it kept its
patient and joyful vigils. Narrowing the wants of the
body within the smallest possible limits it has bestowed
all thought upon the soul. Rigidly has it scrutinized
the soul, deep has been its penitence and high its as-
piration. No delight has it sought in earthly things,
lest heaven should lose thereby somewhat of its right-
ful due. It has tortured the flesh so that it might
tame it, and subdue it utterly. And this, to thc^end
that the soul should be more free to give itself up to
the service and glory of God.

In what I have called the active method, the Chris-
tian makes no such withdrawal of himself from social
life. He participates in the ordinary activities of the
world, and aims to serve God likewise. And here,
again, in this sphere of active service are we compelled
to make a distinction between those who give the liv-
ing sacrifice of the Christian a limited, and those who
give it a comprehensive, interpretation. There are
two differing types of religion affirmed and set forth
bj professing. Christians in the sphere of active service.

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 229

Tlie one covers only a part of life, its relations and
activities. The other covers the -whole. According
to the former, the sphere of religion is sharply defined
and set apart from -vhat is merely secular. Whatever
has immediate and visible connection with the outward
institutions of rehgion is regarded as religious. What-
ever has not, is looked upon as merely secular. Ac-
cording to this idea a man is religious, and fulfils the
requisite conditions of the Christian Sacrifice, when he
is mindful of specific offices of devotion, and gives
himself to the support and furtherance of what are
called religious institutions. If he is punctual in the
rites and ordinances, and supports the cherished
schemes of his sect, he thinks he fulfils the acceptable
service. This type of religion produces, as its quite
common fruit, a character not entirely reliable in the
afiairs of ordinary life. For having monopolized
sanctity within what is called the religious sphere,
there is none left for the sphere merely secular. The
man may pray in the church, and contribute quite
regularly to missions abroad and at home, but in com-
mon social intercourse, and matters of trade and busi-
ness, strict truth and justice may not always be sure
of respect, if they are found to stand in the way of
convenience or profit. In such a person there is an
obvious lack of that beautiful wholeness and harmony
properly termed integrity of character. Indeed, some
have gone so far as to say that when religion of this
stamp is seen in the market or exchange it is apt to
make honest men suspicious.

230 SERMON xiir.

For this type of religion I have but little respect —
far less than for the contemplative. I consider both
defective, and must go for the most satisfactory form
of religion and for the full significance of the Christian's
living sacrifice to that interpretation of it which is
comprehensive, covering the whole of life in all its
relations and activities.

It is through this interpretation only that we can
discover and appreciate the full and far reaching mean-
ing of the Lord Christ's sacrifice, which was not an
offering of anything outward or apart from himself,
but actually himself — his soul and all his powers to an
active conformity to the will of God. And it is through
this interpretation, too, that we reach the proper sig-
nificance of the apostle Paul's entreaty when he
beseeches Christians, '* by the mercies of God, that
they present their bodies a living sacrifice, holy, accept-
able to God, which is their reasonable service." For
the Christian soul must feel that all it has, and all that
it is, is of God's mercy. And the Christian ought to
feel and know, moreover, that a sanctity belongs to all
that God has created and ordained. Christ has
appeared, and removed the veil of separation which
stood between man and his God. Now by him, as by
the new and living way, have we access to the Father.
Separate from God, and in fear, man once stood. But
Christ came, and by the sacrifice of himself — in his
life and his death — reconciled man to God, and sowed
the seed of love which was to germinate and abound to
the perfect casting out of fear. Christ shows us the

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 231

Father. He shows us the Father waiting and merciful
— waiting for the offering we bring, and merciful in
all his regards.

The offering which constitutes the proper Christian
Sacrifice must be complete. As I have already said,
all that we have, and all that we are^ is God's — every
outward possession, every inward faculty. All that
we see is God's — all that we see in the heaven above
and in the earth beneath. There is a sanctity all
around us, and connectcl with our personal being. We
can no longer rule off any part, and mark it common
and unclean. Let our church here be sacred, and it
must be so if we are faithful to the holy purpose of its
erection. For these walls have been raised to shelter
us while we meet to meditate on things divine, and
lift up our common prayers to God. And to this
purpose let this house now and henceforth stand
dedicated. Raised, as it partly is, on the foundations
of a former structure built for the same purpose, let
this our second temple be dedicated, as the first was,
" to religion and its uses — to the worship and glory of
the one living and true God. To Christianity and its
influences we dedicate it — to the exposition and en-
forcement of that Gospel which is the rule of life and
charter of salvation. To the well-being of man we
dedicate it — in his preparation of the duties of this life
and the enjoyment of the life to come. To truth and
love and peace we dedicate it, and invite them to
dwell within its walls as the guardians of its sanctity.
To holy prayer we dedicate it ; to religious instruction

232 SERMON XIII.

we dedicate it ; to sacred song we dedicate it."* But
while we thus set it apart as a holy place and place of
prayer, let not the shop and the counting-house, the
market and the exchange, be places unsanctified as if
God looked for no offeiing, or sought no service there.
Rather let our service here still remind us that where-
ever a Christian man moves there does God demand
the living Christian Sacrifice.

0, the height and the depth, the length and the
breadth of this Christian obligation ! How it follows
a man every step he takes, reminding him whose he is,
and what is the proper purpose of his life. Does he
plough the field or fell the tree ? Behold it is divine
work — let him look to it that his muscles are faithful
in their offering. Does he go to the couch of disease
with his healing skill, or into a court of justice to plead
a client's cause ? Behold here, too, the work is divine
— let the conscience be awake, and the service
rendered as unto God. Does he stand in mart or store
amid the din of buying and selling ? Behold here,
again, is a place sanctified by the divine presence — let
nothing fraudulent or unjust be permitted to enter — let
every act of trade be an offering of conscience to the
Lord. The spirit in which our work is rendered gives
it its character in the sight of the Highest. This, as
George Herbert writes, may

" Make drudgery divine ;
Who sweeps a room as for God's laws
Makes that, and th' action fine."

* From Dr. Gannett's Sermon at Dedication of Montreal Unitarian
Church, 11th May, 1845.

THE CHRISTIAN IDEA OF SACRIFICE. 233

This, my friends, is the call of the Gospel — the
demand of Christianity. Nothing short of this can
fulfil the living sacrifice there required. We must
regard life's work as God's work, and whatever we
cannot harmonize with its truth, justice, holiness, and
love — that we must shun and put far away. We must
decline act or part therein, else we divide the service
of our hearts and vitiate the sacrifice of our lives. I
need not speak here of the more obvious demands of
Christian love upon us to help the helpless and the
weak — to befriend the friendless and the erring. For
all this will be seen, and more too — yea, far more than
I have indicated — when the soul comes to submit itself
meekly to God, and accept his will as the joyful law of
its life. When self is crucified within, and all the poor
and transient vanities which cluster around it are cast
out, then will the holy spirit enter to put the seal upon
our sacrifice, and confirm us as co-workers with God
and all godlike spirits in the universe. Then shall we
feel ourselves free of the limitations of time and place,
members of the church universal, citizens of the king-
dom which is eternal. Then, as we render our worship,
shall we be '' built up a spiritual house," as the apostle
saith, — '' a holy priesthood to offer up spiritual sacri-
fices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ."

SERMON XIV.

THE WOMEN AT THE CROSS.

" Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother's
sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene."— Jo/m xix. 25.

That was a marked hour, in which Jesus was crucified.
The passions of men raged furiously, and wrought the
death of the " holy one and the just," whom God had
anointed and sent. But though the body yielded to
the cruelty of his enemies, the spirit of Jesus remained
unbroken and unsubdued. He showed himself the true
Son of Grod to the last, and never more emphatically
did he display the divinity of his character than when
he hung in mortal agony on the cross. It was there
he gained the grandest triumph over all his foes. While
they in their wildness smote him to the death, he for-
gave them, and prayed to the Father on their behalf.
Herein the victory of Jesus was complete. In love he
came. In love he conquered.

The hour in which Jesus was crucified was an hour
always to be noted and remembered . More than eight-

THE WOMEN AT THE CROSS.

235

cen hundred years have passed away since the cross was
raised on Calvary, and still it stands before the eyes of
men as if it were only an event of yesterday. The death
of Jesus was the close of the most wonderful life ever
lived on earth. And it was the preliminary of another
event — I mean his resurrection — an event from which
a new and lively hope dawned upon the world.

How strange it must have seemed to his followers
when he was actually fastened to the cross ! They had
but dim apprehensions of his true character. They
looked in hope for the Messiah, but they had been ac-
customed to look for one of princely pretensions. It
would have accorded with their expectations if he had
come with all the outward circumstances of a temporal
deliverer. The far superior importance and glory of a
spiritual deliverance they did not understand. The
mighty works he performed awed and impressed them,
and attracted them to hear " the gracious words which
proceeded out of his mouth.'' As they listened to these
words, no doubt they received other and more excellent
impressions than those of mere wonder — spiritual im-
pressions, calculated to quicken the understanding,
enlarge the heart, and exalt the character. But these
were not sufficiently powerful to overcome the ancient
and long cherished expectations of the nation. The old
leaven which had been transmitted from father to son,
through so m^ay generations, was not easily expelled.
When they saw him display his wonderful power, they
would have placed him on the throne of David, and
made him a king. But he escaped out of their hands.

23G SERMON XIV.

They did not discern that he was already a greater kin^
than David. The common people heard him gladly,
for he mixed freely with them, and won their favor by
his blessed words of truth and consolation. But those
in power — the Pharisees and priests — sought to destroy
him. They were jealous of his influence and dreaded
it, for in its increase they saw, foreshadowed, the down-
fall of their own. And so they plotted and conspired
against him. They hurried him from Pilate to Herod,
and from Herod again to Pilate, whom they compel-
led to pass sentence by the infuriated cry of " Crucify
him ! crucify him !" Then was the fidelity of his friends
tested. He was now in the hands of power. The priests
and Pharisees had him. The Roman soldiers w^ere their
instruments. These were there — willing and reckless
tools to perform any deed of blood. Jesus was no more
to them than the malefactors whom they suspended at
either side of him. And yet he was more, for they
had heard that he pretended to be a king, and so
in rude mockery they crowned him, and robed him.
This was their coarse sport. And for his garment
without seam they cast lots. This was their last per-
quisite. Ah me, how blindly do men w^ork betimes!
Little did those coarse and cruel men think that in
plaiting that crown of thorns they were making a crown
destined to command a higher reverence from the
world than that of the proudest Coesar. And the
cross shines with more glory now than high-priest's
chair or Roman judgment seat. But where, in this
trying hour, are his disciples — those who followed him

THE WOMEN AT THE CROSS'. 287

Tvliile lie wrought his miracles and proclaimed his king-
dom ? One of them in his strong, rash confidence said,
though all should deny and forsake him, he never would .
Where is he now ? He is gone where the rest are gone.
All have fled throuo;h fear. Thev had trusted that it
was he who should have redeemed Israel. But now
that he was in the hands of his bitter and powerful
enemies — now that he was actually on the cross — their
trust fails them, and they flee. Triumphant malice
and gratified revenge surround the cross. The rude
tumultuous utterances of mockery and reproach falj
upon the ear of the godlike suflerer. Oh, tlie unut-
terable desolation of such an hour to a soul not
inwardly fortified. But Jesus was never alone. The
Father was always with him to strengthen and sustain.
The scene w^as indeed dark to his dying eyes, yet not
wholly dark. For as the groups of vindictive and pas-
sionate men lingered or flitted before him, his eye rested
on a little knot of persons whose every look showed
that their sympathies were very different from those
of the crucifiers. Three women were there, and a
young man. Sorrow filled their hearts, and was visi-
ble on their faces. Their strona; affection yearned
towards the sufferer. It was seen by him, and recog-
n ed.

Even if the EvanoreUst had failed to orive us the names
of that little group, we should scarcely be at a loss to
know who one of the women, at least, was, so long as
we knew that Jesus had a mother living. It was she —
his mother — who stood beside his cross, and her sister,

238 SERMON XIV. '

and Mary Magdalene. These were the three women
— three Marys. The young man was the disciple
whom Jesus loved — John. All the friends and fol-
lowers of Jesus had fled except these. And here they
were — these sorrowing women — fearless beside the
cross, in the midst of a rude mob and brutal soldiery.
How grand the fidelity of a true affection ! The time
had now come when the prediction of the good old
Simeon was to have its fulfilment. The sword was
now to pierce the heart of the mother through. The Son
was suspended before her in agony. But she shrunk
not from the trial. Impelled by a mother's love, she
stood by the cross. No selfish fear could quench that
love. And Mary Magdalene, she too, was there —
drawn by the warm feeling of gratitude. The other
Mary was the mother's sister, and had known the
Lord from his earliest infancy. With the tender
interest of so near a relative, she had watched his
" increase in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God
and man." No doubt, as the mother pondered those
wonderful things in her heart, which she had heard
concerning her child, her sister sympathized with her
in her musings, and both looked upon him with hushed
and growing hope. But the power of Jesus' character
won them all to a higher love than that of mere natural
affection. This love had all the strength and warmth
of a pure natural affection ; but it had, besides, a
serene trust, which took away the bitterness of despair.
They had imbibed a portion of the spirit of Jesus.
Pervaded by his love, they were linked to him by a
heavenly tie, which separated them from all fear.

THE WOMEN AT TUE CROSS.

239

The men fled, but the women remained ; because their
love was purer. An ambitious hope had mingled with
the attachment of the former, and when Jesus was
actually crucified, this hope was blasted. They had
marvelled at his works, they had hung upon his words,
and were, no doubt, strongly attached to him. But
still the vision of a temporal kingdom floated before
their imagination, and helped their adhesion to his
cause. And when this vision was effectually dispelled,
their adhesion was shaken. No such ambitious expec-
tation lingered in the breasts of the women. They
loved Jesus for what he was in himself, and whether
among friends or enemies, at ease or in agony, he was
still the same to them, and loved with the same love.
Nay, more, among enemies and in agony, their love
was quickened and stimulated to greater intensity and
activity. Hence, they came and stood beside the cross.
They were there, like forms of light on the ground of
a dark, dark picture.

And the eye of the suffering son met the eye of the
sorrowing mother and her sympathising friends. It was
something to have such a son to look upon. It was
something to be looked upon by such an one. Calm
and resigned, in the strength of a godlike love, he
hung there. In the midst of his agony, and with the
recollection of all the previous injustice and barbarity
of his trial and cross-bearing, yet fresh before his
mind, he prayed for the pardon of his persecutors and
crucifiers. He saw it was through ignorance they did
it. " Father, forgive them," he said, " for they know

240 SERMON XIV.

not what the j do." This prayer will stand throughout
all time a perpetual monument of the divine character
of the Savior's mind. He died to benefit those who
killed him. The strength of love that, unde such cir-
cumstances, could utter such a prayer, evinced an
intimate and abiding communion with God. Herein
lay the glory and the strength of Jesus, in his intimate
union with the Father. He was one with him. Hence
no earthly power could disturb him. Amid all the
tumult of human passions by w^hichhe was surrounded,
he looked calmly and with confidence to Heaven.
He came from the Father, he went to the Father,
and the glory of God shone in his face. The com-
passion of his nature abounded for the blindness
and bigotry of his crucifiers, and so he forgave
the enormous wrong, and interceded with the Father
to forgive also. This was his prayer upon the
cross. But he spoke the word of promise too. " This
day," said he, " thou shalt be with me in Paradise."
This promise was spoken to one of the unhappy men
who was expiring beside him. In that man he saw
the indication of a right spirit reviving, and he at
once gave the sinner hope. In the dying Jesus we
have still the same character which we witnessed in the
living Jesus. We perceive the same absorbing desire
to do good. " Wist ye not that I must be about my
Father's business ?" was the language of his early
years. It might have been the language of his latest
hours also. " My meat and my drink is to do the will
of him that sent me, and to finish his work, was the

THE WOMEN AT THE CROSS.

241

language of the days of his most active life. The
same might have been the language of his dying lips,
when pinioned on the cross. This was not all, however.
He had prayed for his murderers. This was the first
expression which broke from his lips in the agony of
the cross. He had uttered a gracious promise to the
dying malefactor at his side. This was the second
expression which came from him. But there was yet
another group, distinct from the other two, and it was
to this that the third utterance of the expiring Jesus
was directed. He now spoke to his mother and the
loved disciple. Filial affection now gained an utter-
ance. His mother, we have every reason to believe,
was already a widow, and he felt that on his removal,
her home would indeed be desolate. The love of the
mother had a response worthy of it in the love of the
son. With all the grandeur of his mission before him,
and the glory of his exaltation full in view, like a
true son he still remembered his mother. Many an
anxious hour had she watched over his childhood.
Every advancing year of his life had she marked
with tender and increasing interest. And now, with
full and bursting heart, she stands beside his cross.
Is this, then, after all, to be the close of her cherished
hopes and anticipations? It is even so, Mary!
mother of the blessed one — it is even so. Thy Son
hangs in apparent ignominy, but in real glory. The
strength of the spirit triumphs over the weakness of the
flesh, so that in his very agony he shows himself the
Son of God. And thou, Mary, mother ! — as thou

242 ' SERMON XIV.

standest there with thy meek and sorrowful face — the
embodiment of a pure living affection, thou art more
lovely and more glorious than regal diadem, or queenly
robe could make thee.

'' Poets oft have sung thy story,
Painters decked thy brow with glory,

Priests thy name hare deified.
But no worship, song or glory,
Touches like that simple story —

Mary stood the cross beside."

She stood there, and out of the fulness of her living
love gazed upon the sufferer. And she had her re-
compense. She was met with an eye of sympathy
and tenderness. Jesus would provide for the future
earthly comfort of his mother, and while he desired
her to confide in the beloved disciple, he also com-
mended her to that disciple's care and keeping. The
utterances were brief, but full of the tenderest mean-
ing. They were brief, for he was dying as he spoke
them. Hear the simple account of John himself.
" When Jesus, therefore, saw his mother and the
disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his
mother, woman, behold thy son ! Then saith he to the
disciple, behold thy mother ! And from that hour
that disciple took her unto his own home."

I have now directed attention to the suffering Christ
upon the cross, and the sorrowing Mother as she stood
beside it. Christian friends and brethren, by every tie
of gratitude and love are we bound to him who hung
there. He came in the spirit and power of God to de-

THE WOMEN AT THE CROSS.

243

liver us from sin and its fearful consequences. Herein
especially did God commend his love towards us — that
while we were yet sinners he sent his Son for our spirit-
ual deliverance, and redemption from the power of evil.
Herein, especially, did the Son of God commend his
love towards us, that while men were yet sinners he
entered on the mission, and yielded himself even to
the death in fulfilment of the Father's gracious wilL
Fellow Christians, as we contemplate Jesus in his life,
and in his death, can we continue to do him disrespect,
by neglect of his love and of his commandments ? If
we take his name as Christians, are we not bound to
seek the divine life as set forth in his life, the great
Exemplar ? And can it be said that we are true to
our Christian name, while we slight the most obvious
Christian graces, and remain unforgiving in temper,
frivolous in mind, absorbed by sensual or selfish pur-
suits, negligent of God's glory, careless of man's wel-
fare, untrue to our best thoughts and clearest light,
timid on behalf of truth, desiring popular favor or
personal acquisition rather than simple integrity,
seeking the approval of man rather than that of God ?
This is surely a searching question. Let us put it to
ourselves in its various particulars, and by such means
seek to find out our special weaknesses and sins.

Many and various are the lessons taught us by
Jesus on the cross. There, emphatically, he taught
us how to forgive. This, I regard, as a cardinal lesson.
No personal injury is too great for forgiveness. This
is a virtue most difficult of exercise. Some of our

244 SERMON xrv.

strongest passions are arrayed against it. Wrongs
are done us sometimes which wound us deeply in the
tenderest part. And our very forgiveness may
sometimes be misunderstood. If we overlook the
wrong, our conduct may be set down as the mark of a
dull and abject spirit, which fails to perceive the wrong.
Still we ought to suffer to be misunderstood, rather
than remain unforgiving. Here, however, let me
make a distinction. It is one thing simply to forgive,
and another thing to forgive and restore to confidence.
Thus, if we find ourselves wronged or wounded by
friend or enemy, we ought to forgive, as Jesus did —
more especially if we can suppose that it was through
ignorance or heedlessness the wrong was done. This
we ought to do, independently of the state of mind of
the person who did the injury. This we ought to do
for our own sake, for if we cherish any harsh or vin-
dictive feeling we injure ourselves more than any other
person can injure us. But if the person forgiven
show no sense of the wrong he has done — ^if he mani-
fest no regret on account of it — then he cannot be
regarded as worthy of confidence. We can have no
thorough sympathy with a person in whom this
per spirit is wanting. But where this proper mind is
shown, then, not only should our forgiveness be exer-
cised, but the wrong blotted out of sight, and confidence
restored. I hope our notice of this distinction will
remove a difficulty, which some may feel. It will be
observed that no moral impossibility is insisted on —
no such moral impossibility as restoring any one to

THE WOMEN AT THE CROSS.

245

confidence whom we really cannot confide in. For-
giveness, however, we insist on. We ought to forgive
as Jesus did. We ought to forgive as we hope to be
forgiven.

Many and various, I repeat — great and precious
— are the lessons which Jesus on the cross teaches.
But we cannot at present attempt to enlarge upon
them. We must now be satisfied with the simple
suggestion of our text. This relates to the suf-
fering son, and the sorrowing mother and friends.
In the latter, as they stood beside the cross, we
see the triumph of love and fidehty over all selfish-
ness and fear. Perhaps no scene could be imagined
more repugnant to the feelings of those devoted
women, and that gentle disciple, than the scene of the
crucifixion. It was a scene of coarseness and cruelty
— of barbarity and blood. It was one where the wildest
passions reigned, and from which less courageous souls
had fled through fear. But the mother and friends of
Jesus braved all danger, resolved to be faithful to the ,
last. Herein they gave a lesson to all disciples through-
out all time. How well the apostle Paul learned it,
and set it forth, is evident from his writings. " Who
shall separate us from the love of Christ ? '' is his ques-
tion ; " shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or
famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?" — No.
None of these things should. All these things ought
to be readily encountered rather than swerve from our
loyalty and love to him who lived for us and died for
us. Says the same apostle in another place, " God
forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of Christ."

246 SERMOJT XIV.

This was'also worthy of the noble-minded and Christ-
loving Paul. Popular opinion had put a ban upon the
cross. Jew scorned it, and Greek laughed at it. To
the one it was a stumbling-block, and to the other it
was foolishness. But Paul would not blink it out of
sight on this account. He might have succumbed to
popular opinion and not put the cross so prominently
forward. But this would have been disloyalty to the
Lord, and to his cause. The cross was a fact — a truth,
a central fact — a central truth, and therefore the
apostle put it forward in the face of popular opinion.
All such lessons are for us and for our benefit. When-
ever and wherever scoff or sneer is uttered against
Christ's name or Christ's cross, then and there will
the true and loving soul stand closer to both ; and, like
the noble apostle of old, proclaim abiding fidelity. Every
truth that Christ taught — every truth of his religion —
is, so to speak, a part of himself, because part of his
religion. " I am the truth," said he. In him reli-
gious truth was embodied and manifested in a visible
life. Now if through fear of " peril or sword " — of
private interest or popular opinion — we shrink from
the truth which commends itself to our mind, heart,
and conscience as the teaching of the blessed Jesus,
are we not as disloyal to the Lord and to his cause as
Peter was, when he denied him and fled, or as Paul
would have been, had he failed to set forth the cross
prominently in his teaching ? The devoted women,
the loving John, the faithful Paul — verily these are
patterns of fidelity, most worthy of our admiration and
imitation.

THE WOMEN AT THE CROSS.

247

Another remark, and I have done. From the notic€
which Jesus took of his mother as he hung upon the
cross, we may learn an important and affecting lesson-
No mission could be grander than his, — none more
comprehensive in its effects. He saw it in its magni-
tude, and brought all his powers into its service. — His
mind never rested, his will never faltered, his love
never wearied in the work of the world's deliverance
and salvation. But this great and comprehensive
work, while it engrossed his attention, did not disturb
or banish thought of the closer and more intimate
duties of filial and friendly affection. It was he who
was to save the world, who was to shed blessings on
the whole race of man, whose work was to be seen in
its effects throughout all ages, — it was he who, from
his place of agony, looked upon his mother and said,
"behold thy son!" and upon his disciple, and said,
* ' behold thy mother ! " Let us look to the Lord here , seen
as a son and a friend, and learn of him. Every lesson
of his which we accept and apply, brings us nearer to
the stature of the perfect manhood and to the blessed-
ness of heaven. This rare blending of what was grand-
est and most comprehensive, with what was minute
and most tenderly affecting, showed Jesus to be far
removed from all ordinary persons and characters.
Herein do we behold, in part, the glory of the divme
Sonship radiating from the Man of Nazareth. Glory
be to his name ! Glory be to his work ! Glory be to
God in the highest, who anointed him with the Holy
Spirit, and with power, to accomplish a work of such
unspeakable love !

SERMON XV.

UNITY OF THE FATHER AND THE SON.
" I and my Father are one." — John x. 30.

Our Lord here affirms the unity subsisting between
himself and his Father. The full and true recognition
of this unity between God and Christ is essential to
any adequate apprehension of Christianity. The nature
of this unity is quite simple and intelligible, being of
the spiritual kind, involving oneness in will, oneness
in action, oneness in purpose. Had there bean any
disunion or want of harmony between the Father and
the Son — any discord of will or contrariety of purpose
— a Gospel of peace and reconcihation, as between
man and God, would have been impossible — impossible,
I mean, as the message of such a messenger — a mes-
senger at discord with the sender of the message. But
no such disunion or discord is ever intimated. The
whole scope of the New Testament teaching goes to
show that perfect unity of spirit and purpose sub-
sisted between God and Christ.

UNITY OF THE FATHER AND THE SON.

249

We should have no diflSculty in treating this matter
of the spiritual unity between God and Christ, and its im-
mediate bearing on the great purpose of man's deliver-
ance from sin, and redemption to life eternal ; — if we
had only to do with the Christianity of the New Testa-
ment, and with the developments of the Gospel in the
first ages of the Church. But we cannot now approach
this subject without noticing existing ecclesiastical doc-
trines. And these are so different in their statemencs
from the statements of the New Testament, that their
tendency is to perplex and confound simple believers,
and deter many sincere minds from too close an inves-
tigation, lest the discrepancy between the one and the
other should grow so clear to their apprehension as
to make them uncomfortable in assenting to the
current ecclesiastical doctrines. The mass of Christen-
dom is disposed to inertness in such matters, and prefer
the more easy way of taking doctrines on trust, to
the less easy way of looking for truth in doctrine.
Let it be stated on the authority of immemorial eccle-
siastical tradition, that two and two make ten, and
that to doubt this is to incur damnation, and that,
moreover, the greater the contradiction to reason the
more eminent the act of faith and the more signal
the heavenly reward ; and adoring millions will accept
the proposition, and rely upon it as essential to a
saving faith. The more simple and intelligible propo-
sition that two and two make four, and not ten, will
have no charm for them. They have been told and
taught that they will be damned if they thus yield to

250 ' SERMON XV.

the plausibilities of reason. Hence the constant conflict
between the natural God-given reason of man and the
traditional doctrines of the Church.

Yet there ought to be no such conflict. For all
truth is of God, whether developed through the instru-
mentality of human reason or holy writ. Both these
gifts are of his bestowal, and they involve no contra-
diction one with the other. If the proposition, that
two and two make four, is arithmetically true, it must
be held likewise to be true in theology ; and no propo-
sition at variance with it, though backed by all the
authority of Church tradition, can be otherwise than
false. If the proposition that two and two make ten,
is arithmetically false, it must be held, likewise, to be
false in theology, and no proposition aflirming its truth,
though backed by all the authority of Church tradi-
tion, can make it true. It may seem a simple thing
to be assured of, and to feel assured of, to tvit : that
two and two make four. It may seem a simple thing
to be so well assured of this, that no subtleties of
speculative philosophy nor threatenings of ecclesias-
tical authority, can make us hesitate about it. Yet,
simple as it may seem, we have in reality made a
great step in theological enquiry when we find that we
can rest without fear or doubting on just such simple
first principles as this proposition involves.

In the first ages of the Church, the doctrine of
the spiritual oneness of God and Christ was held in
its simplicity. But as the preaching of the Gospel
advanced in the world, it came in contact with the

UNITY OF THE FATHER AND THE SON. '1^1

speculative distinctions of the current philosophy.
Then were its doctrines subjected to the action of th e
speculative intellect and cast into new forms of state-
ment. These new forms of statement were embodied
in creeds, and made the basis of ecclesiastical teach-
ing. The most signal of these new developments is
seen in the Arian controversy in the fourth century,
which resulted in the new statement of the Nicene
Creed. This controversy began at Alexandria, which
was then the chief seat of the Platonic philosophy,
and it was through contact with this philosophy, and
the distinctions which it suggested, that the new state-
ments of the Christian doctrine were made. The
result of these new statements of doctrine, made in
the fourth century, and the further controversies which
grew out of them again, was to obscure the original
scriptural doctrine of the spiritual unity of God
and Christ, and overlay it with another doctrine of
another kind of unity, involving equality of power and
glory as between the Father and the Son. This is the
kind of unity which is asserted as essential and funda-
mental to faith, by the traditional church creeds of
Christendom. And here, standing on the distinct
statement of holy writ, we join issue with the scho-
lastic statements of the traditional creeds. I take the
statement of the Westminster Confession, as being the
most concise. It runs thus : " in the unity of the
Godhead there be three persons, of one substance,
power and eternity : God the Father, God the Son,
and God the Holy Ghost." And the statement of

252 SERMON XV.

the Westminster Catechism is to the same eSect : the
three persons are " equal in power and glory." Now,
how does this kind of unity, involving the co-eternity
and the co-equality in power and glory, of God and
Christ, consist with what is taught in the New Testa-
ment ? How does the creed statement of such an unity
harmonize with what our Lord himself says of his
unity with his Father ? Does Christ's statement indi-
cate a unity as between two or three co-equal and
co-eternal sovereign persons ? Or does it indicate such
a unity of spirit and of purpose as subsists between a
just and gracious sovereign and his faithful minister,
between a just and loving father and a devoted and
obedient son ? Let any sober and candid mind judge
and determine. " I and my Father are one," saith
Christ. Now, mark the circumstances under which
this declaration was made. He was addressing an
audience of his own nation— the Jews. He had
spoken his touching parable of the good shepherd,
ending with an allusion to his own death and rising
again. He would not have them believe, however,
that his life was at the mere disposal of man, when
it came to be taken away. Against this mistake he
puts them on their guard, and intimates a divine pur-
pose in what he was to undergo. Thus, he says, *' No
man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself.
I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take
it again. This commandment have I received of my
Father." (John x. 18.) Having said this he left them,
and they discussed his sayings and disputed concern-

UNITT OF THE FATHER AND THE SON. 258

ing him. Some time afterward he was walking in one

of the porches of the temple. And again '' came the

Jews round about him, and said unto him, how long

dost thou make us to doubt ? If thou be the Christ,

tell us plainly. Jesus answered them, I told you, and

ye believed not : the works that I do in my Father's

name, they bear witness of me. But ye believe not,

because ye are not of • my sheep, as I said unto you.

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they

follow me ; and I give unto them eternal life, and they

shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them

out of my hand. My Father, which gave them me, is

greater than all, and no man is able to pluck them out

of my Father's hand. I and my Father are one. — Then

the Jews took up stones to stone him. Jesus answered

them, many good works have I showed you from my

Father ; for which of these works do ye stone me ? The

Jews answered him, saying, for a good work we stone

thee not ; but for blasphemy ; and because that thou,

being a man, makest thyself God. Jesus answered

them, is it not written in your law, I said, ye are

gods ? If he called them gods, unto whom the word

of God came, and the scripture cannot be broken;

say ye of him, whom the Father hath sanctified and sent

into the world, thou blasphemest, because I said I am

the Son of God ? If I do not the works of my Father,

believe me not. But if I do, though ye believe not me,

believe the works, that ye may know and believe that

the Father is in me, and I in him." (Joh7i x. 24-38.)

Observe the statements here made, and consider

254 ' SERMON XV.

them in the Hght of their occasion. Jesus was speak-
ing to Jews. The Jews of that time, hke the Jews of
all times, were monotheistic—strictly so, holding the
doctrine of one God in one person. So jealous were
they of this doctrine that, when Jesus said, " I and my
Father are one," they instantly interrupted him and
prepared to stone him. They thought, or pretended
to think, that he had affirmed himself God in the same
absolute sense in which his Father was God ; and they
were ready to stone him for what they regarded blas-
phemy. How does Jesus meet them here ? JSTot by
affirming co-equality in power or anything else. Not
by stating that he was in some sense, either obvious or
occult, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Not
by setting forth any dual or triple personality in the
one God of Israel. Yet, if this had been religious
truth, he would most assuredly have affirmed it and set it
forth. On the other hand, we find him reasoning with
them out of their scriptures, reminding them that
others have been called gods, without thought of
equality with the Supreme God, He had already
affirmed that the Father was " greater than all." This
covered the whole ground of conceivable being. And
when he stated his oneness with the Father, he meant no
such blasphemy as they supposed. He meant simply
to say, and have them believe, that he was the " Son
of God."

Observe the statements of Jesus, I say, and consider
them in the light of the occasion. The Jews, being
strictly monotheistic, needed, above all things, to have

UNITY OF THE FATHER AND THE SON. 255

any dual, or triple, or compound personality — if such
existed in God — stated ; and if Christ's unity with
the Father had been of a kind involving co-equality of
power, it would have been set forth then and there.
If he had been absolute God, equal with the Father,
he would have said so, and stated his position in some
such phrase as the church creeds use — " God the
Son." Had Jesus held such doctrine as true, and
essential to eternal salvation, as ecclesiastical tradi-
tions teach, most certainly he would have done so.
But the whole drift of his explanation is against this
doctrine. He uses no such phrase as " God the Son,"
— there is no such phrase in all holy writ ; but calls
himself the " Son of God," — a term involving a de-
rived origin. He asserts no equality of power and
glory ; but affirms that his Father is greater than all,
and that he did the works of his Father, — a statement
involving here what he often expressly stated elsewhere,
that his power was a derived power.

Nothing can be more exphcit than Chilst's dis-
claimer of original and underived power, " Yerily,
verily," he says, " the Son can do nothing of himself,
but what he seeth the Father do." (^John v. 19.) And
again, (v. 30) ** I can, of mine own self, do nothing."
And elsewhere, " The Father that dwelleth in me, he
doeth the works," (^John xiv. 10.) And following
the teaching of the master, thus taught the first apos-
tles, as when Peter on the day of Pentecost preached
Christ, saying, " Ye men of Israel, hear these words ;
Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved of God among you.

256 SERMON XV,

by miracles and wonders and signs, which God did by
him in the midst of you." (^Acts ii. 22.) And again,
the apostle states, '^ God anointed Jesus of Nazareth
with the holy spirit and with power." (^Acts x. 38.)
This indicates the tenor of the original preaching of
the Gospel, by Christ and his apostles. The unity be-
tween the Father and the Son is not a unity involving
equality of power, but a unity involving a gradation of
power, and where the power of the Son was derived
from the Father.

The works of Christ were wrought, as he thus ex-
plicitly assures us, in virtue of a power derived from
the Father. And no less explicitly does he assure us
that the word of truth which he taught came likewise
from his Father as the original source. " My doctrine,"
he says, "• is not mine, but his that sent me." (John
vii. 16.) '- He that sent me is true, and I speak to the
world those things which I have heard of him." (John
viii. 26.) " I do nothing of myself, but as my Father
hath taught me, I speak these things." (v. 28.) " The
word which ye hear is not mine, but the Father's
which sent me." (John xiv. 24.) And so on through-
out his teaching. '* My meat is to do the will of him
that, sent me and to finish his work." (John iv. 34.)
" I came down from heaven, not to do mine own will,
but the will of him that sent me." (John vi. 38.) In
this unhesitating and explicit manner did he teach his
strictly delegated capacity, as a messenger sent by
God his Father. And thus, also, does he show that the
unity which subsisted between himself and God was a

UNITY OF THE FATHER AND THE SON. 257

pure spiritual unity ; involving, not equality of power
and glory and eternity, but perfect oneness of will and
purpose — such perfect harmony of will as comes from
a devoted fiUal obedience from a loving son toward a
loving father.

The simple and unembarrassed doctrine of the New
Testament concerning Christ is that he is the Son of
God — the Son of that one supreme God whom he styles
Father, and whom he addressed in prayer, in express
terms, as ^' the Only True God." As his disciples, we
are bound to accept his teaching concerning his Father
and himself, and the relations which subsist between
them, rather than the more recent statements of doc-
trine set down in the traditional creeds of Christendom.
For in this matter it is really a question between scrip-
ture and tradition. The traditional term, " God the
Son" is of scholastic origin — an invention of the spe-
culative intellect to denote an existence in itself eternal
and underived. Some such term became necessary
for the use of the Church when, after three or four
centuries of teaching, it found itself so imbued with the
subtleties and suggestions of the fashionable philosophy
of the time, that the scripture term, " Son of God,"
no longer fitly and fully described its faith. For this
term denotes at once a derived origin. When the
leaders of thought in Christendom, through metaphy-
sical speculation on the nature of the Deity, had
wrought a change in the way of conceiving of God,
then were new terms and statements needed. The
old scriptural forms of words no longer suited the new

258 SERMON IV.

exigencies of the Church. The scriptural term, " Son
of God,'' had to be inverted ; and to meet the demands
of the new views, the term, '^ God the Son," was
written in the church creeds. And there it stands to
this day. The scripture doctrine having been inverted
through philosophical speculation concerning God, the
form of the statement had to be inverted likewise.

The New Testament, throughout, shows us a clearly
recognised distinction, on the part of all its writers,
as between the Father and the Son — a recognised dis-
tinction in the obvious sense of the terms, whereby
the term '' Father " denotes priority, and the term
" Son " derivation and subordination. The New Tes-
tament was written by several persons at various
times, in various places, and under various circumstan-
ces, but their general scope is clear on this point. If
occasional expressions should be observed, which are
seemingly at variance with it, a very little calm and
candid reflection will, I ■ -.ink, remove the difficulty.
The difficulty will vanisL; I think, when yfo reach a true
apprehension of the spiritual unity which subsisted
between the Father and the Son, while the Son walked
the earth as the Christ or anointed Messenger of God.
The spirit of the Father pervaded the Son, so that a
perfect oneness of will and purpose still moved them.
Thus was the one said to be in the other — the Son
being the visible image and representative, to men, of
the invisible Father whom no human eye could see. —
To this end, indeed, was he ordained and sent, that he
might show forth, visibly, the Father, and the Father's

UNITY OP THE FATHER AND THE SON. 259

love to win the sinning children of men back from their
evil courses, and lead them to find their highest joy in
goodness and in God. They were the prodigals, God
was the Father, and Christ was sent to call them home
by moving them to penitence through the power of
love. " God was in Christ," i. e. manifested in him,
" reconciUng the world unto himself." Christ was
therefore a very " Immanuel," a living token of " God
with us." — There is but one supreme God, in the ab-
solute sense, — one God in one person — known to all as
the Father, as Christ and all prophets and apostles
teach ; but the term God is sometimes applied in holy
writ to other persons. Thus, Moses is said to have been
made a God to Pharoah. — " The Lord said unto Moses,
see I have made thee a God to Pharoah, and Aaron thy
brother shall be thy prophet." (jKr. vii. 1.) — More
such examples might be cited, but this will be enough
to show what I mean. Our Lord himself refers to such
expressions in his explanations to his Jewish hearers,
as already noticed in this discourse. If the term God
should be applied to Jesus himself, then, we see from
his own way of treating the subject, in what sense it
should be taken. We see that it should be taken
in its subordinate, not in its supreme and absolute
sense. If we do not consciously or unconsciously
put ourselves in the way of being misled through
the misleading influence of the traditional creeds,
the New Testament will keep us right in this matter.
In the Epistle to the Hebrews, we find the Son styled
God, as in the common reading of the eighth verse

260 SERMON XV.

of first chapter : " Thy throne, God, is for ever and
ever." But, in the next verse we are reminded of the
one God, absolute and supreme, to whom the Son him-
self owed homage, and from whom he derived his
recompense and his glory : '' God, even thy God, hath
anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows."

The scriptural doctrine concerning Christ, I say
again, is, that he is the '* Son of God," —in spiritual
unity with his Father — one with him in will and pur-
pose, as a loving and obedient Son, finding his meat and
drink in doing his Father's will — finding the joy and
delight of his spirit in carrying out his Father's work.
He is the '^ Son of God " in a high and peculiar sense,
as the whole scope of holy writ showeth. He is the
Son of God in a sense more exalted than Adam or
Solomon, or any other person to whom the term " Son
of God " is applied in scripture. He has been styled
the only begotten — the well-beloved — full of grace and
truth. To him the spirit was given without measure.
As none knoweth the Son properly but the Father, so
none knoweth the Father properly but the Son. So
close and intimate was and is the spiritual sympathy
and relation subsisting between them.

I have said that the whole drift of the New Testa-
ment teaching goes to show that in this spiritual unity,
as between the Father and the Son — ^in this oneness of
will and purpose which subsisted between them — there
is subordination of the Son to the Father everywhere
involved, either expressly or by implication. Citations
in proof of this would be endless. The general im-

UNITY OF THE FATHER AND THE SON.

261

pression to this effect left on every reader, is too strong
and constant to be unnoticed or resisted. Had the
New Testament been permitted to remain as sole
teacher of Christian doctrine to Christendom, Christen-
dom would not now be perplexed by any doctrine of a
threefold distribution of God, or of a unity in equality
of power and glory, as between Christ and his Father.
This is the work and result of the scholastic state-
ments of the traditional creeds. So plain, so forcible,
so irresistible, indeed, is the impression produced by
Christ's own teaching and life, as to his own derived
nature and power, and his delegated character ; that the
scholastic creed statement to the contrary, could not
stand an hour, if there had not been a scholastic fallacy
inveni.ed to support it. I refer to the theory of the
double nature. This was a device of scholastic theo-
logians to meet the insuperable difficulties which the
words and acts of the Lord Christ himself placed in
the way of their dogma of equality in unity. For
since he prayed to the Father and called him " the
only true God ; " — since he said he was sent by the
Father, — that his power came from his Father, — that
his Father was greater than he, — that his Father waSj
greater than all ; — since he openly referred all that was
great, and gracious, and excellent in his mission to his
Father, as the original source ; — since he openly subor-
dinated his own will to the will of the Father, and glo-
ried therein ; — since, from the agony of the Cross, he
commended his spirit into his Father's hands, and
after his resurrection spoke to his disciples of his

262 SERMON XV.

ascending to his Father and their Father, his God and
their God ; — since, I say, he thus spake and did, the
true character of his relation to his Father was made
too clear to be overcome or gainsaid by any dogmatic
statement, however positive in itself, or extensively sus-
tained by ecclesiastical authority. Hence the scholastic
device of a twofold nature, or two natures rather, in
Christ himself. But this device involves a fallacy so
transparent that it is not likely to mislead any but
those who are ready to bs misled through previous
acceptance of the ecclesiastical dogma, by means of
traditional creed teaching. And having thus accepted
it, prior to evidence, they only look for something to
help them to hold it to the end. In this case, any
device will do. But when a truth-seeking mind, reso-
lute in its desire to know the truth, comes to look eccle-
siastical traditions full in the face, and fairly question
the f!;rounds and reasons thereof, when such a mind,
with such a purpose, comes to this device, he discovers
its fallacy in an instant. Here is the case briefly stat-
ed, as I stated and printed it many years ago. Two
scriptural phrases or classes of phrases are produced ,
in one of which it is said Christ's supreme Deity is
taught, and in the other his subordinate nature. Both,
it is urged, must be admitted in the sense attached to
them, and from this it is urged that Christ had two
natures. The theory thus constructed is then employed
to defend the doctrine of Christ's supremacy against
the overwhelming evidence of scripture, teaching his
subordination, which can be arrayed against it. Now
we ask the careful reader to mark the fallacy. Is it

UNITY OF THE FATHER AND THE SON.

263

not plain that, in the first instance, in constructing the
theory of the two natures, the real point in contro-
versy (Christ's supreme and absolute Deity) is gra-
tuitously assumed, or taken for granted, Tvithout proof.
And then the theory, thus fallaciously constructed, is
employed to protect the very doctrine which teas gra-
tuitously assumed for the purpose of constructing it.
Is not the fallacy obvious ? We ask the reader to con-
sider this point carefully. Christ's supreme Deity
must be satisfactorily proved before the doctrine of the
two natures can be established. And this just brings
us back to the primary question.

"We say, then, that it is impossible to construct the
theory of the two natures in Christ w^ithout resorting
to the fallacy of •' begging the question," or assuming
that to be true, which is the very point in dispute.

But even this assumption of two natures in our Lord
cannot be made to cover all the circumstances of the
case, and protect the theory of the co-equahty of the
Father and the Son from the difficulties which press
upon it from the plain statements of scripture. Those
statements not only deny the supremacy of the Son,
but they affirm the sole supremacy of the Father. In
thus making express affirmation of the supreme Deity
of the Father only, they obviously exclude the supreme
Deity of the Son in any and every sense. Let us
advert to what Christsays of the time of his coming to
judgment : — " Of that day and hour knoweth no man,
no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only?'*
(JtlaU xxiv. 36.) In the parallel passage in Mark
(xiii. 32.) it is thus written : — " Of that day and that

264 • SERMON XV.

Lour knoweth no man, no, not the angels who are in
heaven, neither the Son, but the Father.'* In these
passages it is evident that our Savior disavows know-
ledge of the event referred to, in every sense, and
assigns tliat knowledge to the Father excltmvehj.
Here, then, is a difficulty which cannot be met even
by the assumption of the two natures.

It is to be observed that the traditional doctrine
concerning God, which is embodied in the church
creeds, is dramatic in its form of statement. The
cast is threefold. " In the unity of the Godhead
there be three persons," says the creed. Each of the
three persons has his own fixed order in the cast, and
has a certain part peculiar to himself to fulfil. That
such a mode of statement may have had its uses, I do
not deny. It may have had its uses in imparting to
the popular mind a more vivid apprehension of the
divine transactions in regard to man. The great mis-
take has been made in allowing the statement to
crT'atallize in a creed, and thus perpetuate a form of j

>7^«rds, which can no longer safely lead, but rather
mislead. For understood in the obvious sense, which
the words thereof convey to us in this age of the world,
they mar the strict and simple anity of God, which we \

everywhere see presented in holy scripture. And
in the theology connected therewith, in its relation to
man, we find a contradiction of the scripture doctrine
of unity of mind and will as between the Father and
the Son in this matter. According to that theology,
the Father has a certain will and purpose in regard to

UNITY OF THE FATHER AND THE SON. 265

man, wliich he is induced to forego, through the inter-
vention of another and differing will and purpose, which
moves the Son. The Father, hating sin, has his hand
raised in divine wrath to strike down the sinner. The
Son, full of love toward the sinner, intervenes, and
through his intervention saves him from the awful
consequences of the Father's wrath. Such representa-
tions as these show a very distorted conception of the
relation of the Father and the Son, and of the kind of
unity which subsists between them. Oh, friends and
brethren, let us not libel our heavenly Father by say-
ing, or suspecting, that his love toward man was ever
less than Christ's love to man. Nor ever let us libel
Christ our Savior, by saying or suspecting that hatred
of sin, and indignation against wilful sinners, was not
felt by him as well as by his Father. No, on these
points, the Father and the Son were, and are always,
one. There was no love toward man in the Son, that
was not in the Father, — no hatred of sin in the Father,
that was not in the Son. In their way of regarding
sin and sinners, Christ and his Father were and are one.
Once more, in closing, I repeat the main position
of this discourse, VIZ ; — that the scripture doctrine con-
cerning Christ is, that he is the Son of God, and one
with his Father in spirit, will and purpose. Acting
in this perfect union with the Father, he came as his
messenger, bearing God's message of grace to men.
He was thus God's Messiah, or Christ, or Anointed, —
showing forth the divine character and will, as a true
son, in loving and dutiful sympathy with his father,

266 ' SEiiMox XV.

will show forth his father's character hj a living mani-
festation. Of such a spiritual kind is the unity of the
Father and the Son, as set forth in the New Testament.
The other doctrine which I have been compelled to
notice, the traditional doctrine of unity involving equal-
ity, is, as I have said, inconsistent with the general
tenor of scripture. And I may add here that it is
plainly refuted by the Savior's use of the term " one "
elsewhere.

Read his prayer in the seventeenth chapter of John's
Gospel, and we see this at once : '^ Holy Father, keep
through thine own name those whom thou hast given
me, that they may be one, as we are. . . Neither pray
I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe
on me through their word ; that they all may be one ;
as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also
maybe one in us: that the world may believe that
thou hast sent me. And the glory which thou gavest
me, I have given them ; that they may be one, even as
we are one : I in them, and thou in me, that they may
be made perfect in one ; and that the world may know
that thou hast sent me, and hast loved them, as thou
hast loved me."

Here let us rest in our Lord's own statement and
explanation. And above all let us henceforth so
strive in his spirit, by watching, by prayer, and by the
devout fidelity of our lives to him, our great leader,
that we may share the joy foreshadowed in that last
sublime and affecting petition, " Father I pray that
they all may be one ; as thou, Father, art in me, and
I in thee, that they also may be one in us."

SERMON XVI.

CHRISTIAN GROWTH THROUGH TRUTH

AND LOVE.

" Speakin^j the truth in love, wc may grow up iuto Lim in all things,
which is the head, even ChriBt."—Eph. iv. 15.

The words which I have just cited as our text, invite
us to consider the union of truthfulness and love as a
means of Christian growth and progress. The first
term — translated to speak truth — signifies also to act
truly, to be sincere. The apostolic teaching is, that it
is by combining truthfulness and sincerity with love,
that we are to grow up and advance into the perfect
manhood, " unto the measure of the stature of the ful-
ness of Christ."

Surely, friends, we must all desire this growth. If
we have no such desire it betokens a sad moral condi-
tion — a condition of religious indifference, equivalent
to a practical denial of Christ. Few persons, I think,
would confess to the want of such a desire. I am sure
that no one who now hears me would say " I have no

268 ' SERMON XVI.

desire to become better, no desire to advance in excel-
lence, and grow in tbe likeness to Christ. If I give
any respect to religious institutions, it is because cus-
tom sanctions them. But as for making any actual and
vital advancement in the Christian character, I do not
care for it, nor do I give it any special thought." No
one would deliberately say this. Yet, I would ask, is
it assuming too much to affirm that it might be said by
many, who at first would recoil from the thought that
it might be appUed to themselves ? For the practice of
worship often degenerates into mere habit and formality,
and the supreme end of all Christian worship and in'
struction has been too commonly lost sight of. A gos-
pel of conformity to common custom has, with too many,
taken the place of the truthful, elevating, heavenly
Gospel of Christ.

But no man or woman was ever sanctified or saved
by any such gospel of conformity and convenience.
By such a gospel no man or woman ever had heart
renewed, or character raised into the likeness of
Christ. Look at those who follow a gospel of conven-
ience — look at them wherever they are, and we see
them in bondage to surrounding circumstances, their
chief aim in life seeming to be to make as decent a
compromise as possible with these. They do not re-
cognise their bondage, nor feel its shackles. They are
content in their, position, and are disposed, perhaps, to
regard as mere theorists all who assert the sanctity of
truth and of conscientious conviction. And it is surely
a sad comment on any gospel of conformity or conven-

CHRISTIAN GROWTH THROUGH TRUTH AXD LOVE. 269

ience, that its effect on any mind should be so to obscure
its discernment, and blunt the conscience, that it fails to
perceive the degradation and wrong of such a bondage
to circumstances. Those who worship according to a
gospel of conformity, may be amiable persons, or sim-
ply timid, coerced by sectarian pressure, which gives
no respect to conscience in its eagerness to augment
the numbers of its sect. The drift of such proceeding
is to bring conscience into disrespect, to laugh its con-
siderations away, as if truth and duty and God and
Christ were not matters of great and sacred and com-
manding import.

The highest aim of the Christain disciple ought to be
to grow holy and excellent after the manner of the
Master. All worship or service which has not this
aim in view is false in purpose and valueless. We
may worship with vast multitudes in spacious and
splendid temples, we may hsten to the tongue whose
speech pleases us, or to the music which we admire
for its novelty or love for its famiharity ; but if we
are not quickened and moved thereby to a higher and
diviner life, to a Christian growth and progress, it is
all vain and worse than vain. It is indeed. The Lord
Jesus Christ came that he might win us to himself, and
redeem us into God by the purity of his law and the
power of his love. But to the end that we may be thu?
won and redeemed, set free from the power of evil by
the greater power of the divine life and love which he
presents, we must give all respect to his word of truth
and life of love. Of the great body of the redeemed, of

270 SERMON XVI.

those delivered from the poTver of evil, z.e., of his
Church, he is the appointed head. And to " grow up
into him in all things" — into his moral image and like-
ness, is the demand which lies against every one of us.
Such demand does but open the door of high and gra-
cious privilege. It is strict in its leading, but it brings
us into the light of a large place. It brings us into
the " household of God." It lifts us into consciousness
of our divine filiation. We come to feel thereby that
we, too, are " sons of God."

Here the great question occurs to us ; how shall we
thus grow? how shall we best advance toward a Uving
likeness to Christ the Lord ? To this question, the
apostle in the text furnishes an answer. The union
of truthfulness and sincerity, with the charity of the
Gospel, through this, writes the apostle Paul, may we
grow up into Christ in all things.

Accepting and using the figure of the apostle, we
shall refer to the Christian character as a growth or
development. The outward and material world fur-
nishes abundant illustration for our present purpose.
Plants and trees grow and expand under the genial and
refreshing influences of the sun as it shines, and the
rain as it falls. Gradually we witness their advance
to maturity, and plainly do we see their success or
their failure. Plants are of different character, and
the cultivation wliich would suit one would not suit
another. One requires a moist soil, and another a soil
that is dry. One thrives best on an eastern exposure,
and another on a southern. If you overlook or disre-

CHRISTIAN GROWTH THROUGH TRUTH AND LOVE. 271

gard these characteristics your cultivation will be a
failure. Instead of having plants growing and ripen-
ing and bringing forth fruit, you will have sickly,
stunted growths, giving no substantial or satisfactory
results.

Now, in like manner, the soul grows, and the character
expands under the moral and spiritual influences which
are brought to bear upon them through the agencies
and instrumentaUties of God's providence. Gradually,
in their case also, do we witness their advance to
maturity, and plainly enough at times do we see their
success or their failure. The human mind, likewise,
has a variety of characteristics. All minds are not
cast in the same mould, any more than all human faces.
A very little observation makes this plain enough.
Now this variety of mental characteristics requires
also a diversity of culture, to the end that a healthy
growth and development may be secured, and worthy
fruit brought forth. One mind requires to be brought
under one set of influences, and another under influen-
ces of a different description. If we overlook these
tendencies, and disregard these requirements, instead
of having a well-developed character growing in the
likeness of Christ and bringing forth all the fruit it
is capable of producing, we shall have mere sickly or
stunted growths of character, having no proper strength,
giving no proper satisfaction, timid, time-serving, vain
or frivolous.

The sum of the matter is this ; and I ask you to
remember it. As in the natural and material world

272 SERMON XVI.

plants are diverse in their characteristics and require
a certain diversity in their mode of treatment and culti-
vation, in order to bring their growth to a proper matu-
rity, so in the mental and moral world, men's minds are
diverse in their characteristics, requiring also a certain
diversity in their mode of training and culture in order
to bring their development to a sa .sfactory and saving
result. Nor in either case does thu diversity come by
chance. In both cases it comes in the settled line of
the divine order.

Still adhering to our illustration: suppose I have
two or more plants or trees — a pine, let us say, a
willow, and a peach. Evidently I should act very un-
wisely if I were to plant these three trees together in
the same soil and subject to the same exposure. The
coolness and damp which would fructify the willow,
and cause it to shoot forth its lithe saplings, would
damage the peach, and destroy all chance of its ade-
quate fruit-bearing. The warmth which brings forth
the buds upon the peach-tree and ripens its mellow
fruit, would speedily scorch the willow and cause it to
wither and decay. Upon the thinner soil and more
elevated exposure of the mountain side, where the pine
is called upon to wrestle with the storm, it stretches
forth its roots and strengthens its branches. But while
this situation strengthens the pine it would only weaken
the others. Yet it will be observed that they are all
nourished and matured through the agency of the same
sun, the same earth, the same atmosphere, but Under
different modifications.

CHRISTIAN GROWTH TIIROUGn TRUTH AND LOVE. 273

Now, in like manner, it is the same God and the
same Gospel which is to enlighten and redeem every
human soul. But there are various ways of present-
ing this Gospel so that every man and woman in their
diversities of mental endowment may profit by that
which is fitted for them, and grow up under it. In
one place it is passionately presented — strong appeals
are made to the feelings. In this way many minds
are impressed, and helped onward and upward. In
another place it is presented in a calmer manner — the
reason is addressed more than the feelinsjs, and the
slumbering conscience called upon to awake and be
vigilant. In this way many other minds are interested,
and brought into more thoughtful mood and more
earnest seeking after the divine life. In one place a
given doctrine is taken as the basis of all instruction
and exhortation. This doctrine being admitted, the
instruction comes with fitness and advantage, and aids
the growth of the Christian character. In another
place some other doctrine is taken as the basis from
which instruction and exhortation are given. And
this doctrine, again, harmonising with the views of
another class of minds, the instruction springing from
it is fit and beneficial — helpful to the Christian growth.
Thus it comes that Methodists, Calvinists, Unitarians,
and others, have diiTerent places of worship and instruc-
tion, according to their different views and beliefs. And
the teaching of the Gospel, as presented in either of
these places, becomes beneficial to the soul in propor-
tion as it harmonises with the convictions of the minds

274 ' SERMON XVI,

that attend, and ss it is adapted to their special char-
acteristics.

We cannot yet afford to part with our illustration,
and so I will say that as I could not consent to plant
my peach-tree side by side with my neighbor's willow
in the damp bottom land, nor with my other neighbor's
pine on the mountain side, neither can I submit
my soul to the worship and teaching of his church
merely because it is his. The bottom land may suit
his willow, the mountain side may suit his pine, but
neither of them will suit my peach. His church may
suit him with his mental convictions and characteristics,
his soul may be made to grow in it, but it will not suit
me with my different convictions and characteristics.
Its want of adaptation to me would only impoverish
my soul, and keep it poor and miserable and weak and
blind. If I desire my peach-tree to flourish and bear
fruit, I must seek a soil and situation which are suit-
able for it. And no one ought to blame me for so
doing. If I desire mind and heart improved — if I
desire to grow in the knowledge and likeness of Christ,
I must seek the church or place, which by its doctrine
and spirit is best suited to me, and through which I
may be most effectually aided towards this greatest of
all ends. And, surely, no one ought to blame me for
so doing. Nay, ought not all to commend me for
giving most earnest heed to this matter of supreme
concern ?

Just as in the case of the three trees, each grows
best in the soil and situation adapted to it, so with three

CHRISTIAN GROWTH THROUGH TRUTH AND LOVE. 275

minds — one may grow under Methodism, another Calvi-
nism, a third under Unitarianism : Methodism gives
more prominence to emotion or feehng, Calvinism gives
more prominence to defined dogmas, Unitarianism
gives more prominence to the spirit and tenor of the
life. The mind that is convinced of the doctrines of
Calvinism would be out of place worshipping habit-
ually with Unitarians. It would find the instruction
starting from a basis in which it had little confidence.
For all Unitarian teaching starts from the foundation
of God's simple unity, and the moral ability of man,
sinful though he be. The mind, on the other hand,
that has Unitarian convictions would be equally out of
place in worshipping habitually with Calvinists, for all
proper Calvinistic teaching starts from a belief in the
tri-personality of God, and the innate, hereditary
depravity of human nature. All appeals and exhort-
ations, therefore, addressed to a mind that has not
these convictions, must be deprived of their best effect
and fall comparatively useless. Sach a mind can no
more grow to a proper Christian growth under such
circumstances, than a peach-tree could grow properly
along with the willow where it flourishes in the damp
bottom.

I hope I have made these points sufficiently plain.
If so, you will at once perceive the profound rational
significance of the apostle's doctrine in the text, and
the absolute necessity of truthfulness and sincerity to
a growth in the Christian Ufe. Elsewhere the same
apostle says that " whatsoever is not of faith (i.e., of

276 SERMON XVI.

conviction) is sin." Hence may we see that outward
conformity, through custom or complaisancCj to what
we do not inwardly believe, is not a thing to be lightly
esteemed, as some seem to consider it. Diversity of
belief the apostle recognises, but he insists on truth
fulness and sincerity. Whatsoever outward or public
profession may be made, not harmonizing with the
inward conviction, is simply hypocritical, actually wrong
and sinful. A conscience void of offence toward God
and liien is to be preserved at all hazards. We are to
confess and speak the truth in love, to the end that
we may grow up into Christ in all things. Thus taught
the apostle Paul, one of the truest, most heroic and
most saintly of men.

I infer, then, that we ought all to study what we
are and what we beheve, that we ought all to endeavor
to obtain some distinct and definite views of theology
and religion, that we ought to strive henceforth to be
" no more children, tossed to and fro, and carried
about by every wind of doctrine,'* but have beliefs
and principles as a basis of character. And whatever
our beliefs and principles may be, whenever we dis-
cover and become aware of them, we should seek
that church, or worshipping society of Christians, which
is best adapted to us, and through which we may be
best assisted in the work of Christian growth and sal-
vation. If Methodists, vvo should gather with the
Methodists ; if Calvinists, with the Calvinists ; if Uni-
tarians, with the Unitarians. If we should be in
sacred earnest about anything in the world, it ought

CHRISTIAN GROWTH THROUGH TRUTH AND LOVE. 277

to be in this matter, where the growth of the Chris-
tian character, and the concern of spiritual safety are
at stake.

No sadder sound has ever fallen on my ear than
when I have heard persons whom I wished to respect,
say that truthfulness in this matter is of subordinate
consequence. For such a confession reveals a radical
moral defect. Men or women who can delibaratoly
subordinate the truth, as God has given it to them in
the persuasion of their own minds, — men or women,
I say, who can deliberately subordinate their own
mentally discerned truth to the call of any temporary
convenience or fashionable conformity, evince an
incapacity for moral distinctions which must impair
our confidence in them in all that relates to moral
distinctions. If they are not faithful to the truth as
they discern it, can we expect them to be faithful
to the right a3 they discern it, any farther than it may
suit their convenience ? In such case truth and error,
right and wrong, become merely conventional matters
to the apprehension. Truthfulness and honesty will
be followed to-day if it suits the purpose of to-day.
Untruthfulness and dishonesty will be followed to-
morrow if it suits the purpose of to-morrow. This
amounts to a dethronement of the living God. Ham-
pered by such debasing conceptions of God, of truth,
and right and duty, growth into the likeness of Christ
becomes an impossible thing.

But while truthfulness h necessary, we must
remember that truthfulness alone will not be sufficient.

278 SERMON XVI.

It must be combined witb charity. The truth is to be
spoken and maintained in love. Whatever our beliefs
may be, they ought to be held and set forth in a per-
fectly charitable spirit. We must do justice to the
motives of others, and keep in mind that they have
rights as well as ourselves. Harshness of thought
among honest differences of belief is an obvious ano-
maly, and a grave offence against the sublime purpose
of Christianity. And arrogance becomes -worse than
folly here. It is a crime against unity — against that
Christian unity of spirit which is the mark of the true
Church universal, amid the inevitable diversities of
belief. " By this shall all men know that ye are my
disciples," said Jesus, " if ye have love one to
another." (John xiii. 35.)

Christian friends ; the light of Jesus was for a light
to the world. It shines as a guidance for every strug-
gling and seeking soul. It shines throughout the ages,
a light divine in human form, to win human hearts, and
lead them in the heavenly way. It is the most pre-
cious gift of the great Father's mercy to our straying
and sinful race. And when, through stillness of mind
and devout prayer, we come to discern the spiritual
meaning of that life, and desire conformity thereto,
we find ourselves in the ascending way which leads to
a perfect fruition in God. Growth in the Christian
likeness is ascent toward God. This comes through
love and truthfulness. Any root of ill- will or untruth-
fulness chokes heavenly growth. Conformity to mere
custom or convenience, or to the world around, holds

CHRISTIAN GROWTH THROUGH TRUTH AND LOVE. 279

US to a low and vulgar level of character, quenching
all holy and hopeful spiritual life. " Be ye not con-
formed to this world," said the apostle, ''hut be ye trans-
formed by the renewing of your mind." QRom, xii. 2.)
Divine transformation, moral and spiritual renewal, —
let this be the grand and inspiring purpose of our lives !
All worldly customs shall fade away, all worldly conve-
nience perish, all worldly associations come to nought ;
but the soul, seeking to grow into the likeness of
Christ, shall become stronger day by day, outlasting
time, to grow with an ever ascending growth, when
time itself shall be no lono;er.

SERMON XVII

INWARD RENEWAL GREATER THAN
OUTWARD MIRACLES.

"He that believetli on mp, the works that I do shall he do also; and
greater works than these shall he do." — John xiv. 12.

We see by the context that the works of the Savior
here referred to, were of the external and palpable
kind, or those which we commonly call miracles. Our
Lord appeals directly to these as a token of his special
connection with heaven. The words which he spake
were a higher token than the works which he wrought ;
but there were few who heard them who were able to
discern the depth and fulness of their divine meaning.
The clear-seeing and heavenly mind discovers in
Jesus speaking the beatitudes, something of a higher
and diviner order than Jesus feeding the five thousand.
In the one case he supplied the bread to those who
were an hungered with the hunger of the body. In
the other case, he supplied the bread which was to fill

INWARD RENEWAL GREATER THAN MIRACLES. 281

those who were hungering after righteousness, with the
hunger of the soul. The eyes and the hearts of the
men of his generation were set in another direction, so
that they could not see nor appreciate the spiritual
purpose of the Lord. The proclamation of a Hebrew
national triumph would have been more grateful to
their ears than any spiritual utterance, though coming
direct from the bosom of .the Father. " I am in the
Father, and the Father in me," said Christ. " The
words that I speak unto you I speak not of myself ;
the Father that dwelleth in me, he doeth the works.
Believe me, that I am in the Father, and the Father in
me, or else believe me for the very works' sake." (John
xiv. 10, 11.)

Thus it was that Jesus appealed to his works as a
token of his divine commission. If, by reason of the
dulness of their apprehension, and the dimness of their
spiritual vision, the people could not reahze the value
and significance of his words, there were the works — so
rare and palpable, that they must needs arrest atten-
tion by the wonder which they excited. His miracles
of healing and resuscitation, were obviously out of the
observed order of nature, and the rude multitudes felt
that no m.an could do such works, except God were
with him. In this way, by the more palpable demon-
stration of outward miracles, was their attention
arrested. And this done, they could the more readily
be brought to assume that thoughtful and docile
posture of mind through which they might receive the
deeper things of the kingdom of Gcd..

282 SERMON XVII.

A miracle is a marvel ; and because of its marvel-
lous character, it strikes the mind with special force.
A miracle is a marvel, but not out of the order of
nature — only out of the commonly observed order of
nature. A miracle is a marvel, but not an unnatural
marvel ; and it is only within given limitations, and in
a certain sense, that it can be even called a supernatural
marvel. If a man says, broadly, that a miracle is
impossible, I cannot help regarding it as the mark of
an unphilosophical mind, since the assertion assumes an
acquaintance with all the laws and secrets of the universe .
The truth is, that man knows but little of the secrets of the
universe. His sphere of observation and investigation
Is limited, and even within this he is frequently at a
loss. As for the terms natural and supernatural, these
will have as many meanings as we can give to the
term nature. If by " nature," we mean the order of
things as commonly observed by us, then is a miracle
supernatural. But if by '^ nature" is meant the order
of things as existing in the universe, then is a miracle
natural ; — in ihe nature of things, not outside of it, or
above it. That distant planet, away on the outermost
verge of our system, has been observed for centuries,
true to its orbit round the central sun. So far as it
is concerned, this is the commonly observed order of
nature. But the keen eye of the practised observer,
of a Kant or a Leverrier, sees it shaken from its orbit,
and aside from the track to which the laws of the
Uiiiverse held it ever since man first looked upon it.
Do they say, therefore, that the law is broken, or that

INWARD RENEWAL GREATER THAN MIRACLES. 283

the Creator is re-adjusting the starry universe ? They
are too wise to speak such folly. They see in such
disturbance the token of law still — other conditions
being introduced from some other sphere of nature,
hitherto unobserved. They infer the presence of a
body sufficient to cause the disturbance through the
working of a prevailing law ; and in due time the in-
ference is confirmed by actual sight of that body.
This is an illustration from the sphere of physical
nature. The commonly observed order of things is
broken, not through violation of law, but in fulfilment
of law, and in consequence of the presence of novel
and rare conditions.

And so, what we call a miracle, or wonderful work,
is no infraction of law, no after thought of God, no re-
adjustment by the Creator of any failure in the order of
his universe,or in any part thereof. It comes in fulfilment
of law — of a law more rarely observed, because the con-
ditions on which its observed operation depends are
more rarely manifested. Aside from the infrequency
of the phenomenon, there is nothing more marvellous in
the resuscitation of a human being from the dead than
in the first bringing of that human being into life.
Strictly speaking the one is as unaccountable as the
other. And that the one strikes us as more wonder-
ful than the other, is simply because it is more rarely
witnessed. In the physical universe we are surrounded
by marvels, and every generation brings more clearly
to light the existence of laws with which former gene-
rations were unacquainted, and whose operations had

1:84: SERMON XVII.

surprised or awed them. We dwell but in a small sec-
tion of God's universe, and know little of the mode of
our own soul's connection with our own bodies ; and
quite as little, certainly, of the operation of mind upon
matter throughout the varied spheres. It may be a
law of the universe that special spiritual endowments
have a controlling influence over matter and mind, un-
der certain conditions and within certain limitations.
No man can properly affirm that it is not so, and no
man, therefore, can properly affirm that a miracle is
an impossible thing.

We call the recorded works of Jesus great and
wonderful. And surely they were so. But greater works
than these were his believing and faithful disciples to
do. How did the works of the disciples exceed in
greatness those of the Master ? Shall we examine
the catalogue of apostolic miracles, and render a
reply by comparing the amount of wonder which in
each case they were calculated to excite ? This has
been done, but it is now quite generally seen to be
superficial and deceptive. The comparison must not
be made of degree, but of kind. If we compare
the outward miracles of each, and confine our com-
parison to these, our wonder will be excited, but the
faculty of wonder is not the best or deepest part of
us. When our Savior said that his believing disciples
should accomplish greater works than even his mira-
cles, he did not intend a comparison of degree, but of
kind. He did not intend to compare their miracles
with his, which would be a comparison of degree, but

INWARD RENEWAL GREATER THAN MIRACLES. 285

their worlvs of another order, which was a comparison
of kind. He looked forward, as I conceive, to the
deeper, and more widely extended, spiritual impulse,
which the world was to receive from their preaching
and labors when he himself should be taken away
from earthly sight.

During the earthly lifetime of the Lord his religion
made a very limited progress. By the wonderful
works which he wrought to arrest attention, and by
the wonderful words which he spoke to fill men's
thoughts, by the heavenly spirit which he breathed,
and by the heavenly life which he lived, he laid the
foundation on which the apostles were to build, and
he ushered in that new kingdom which they were to
extend. But, as we all know, the people generally,
and his own apostles also, looked for something else
in their Messiah than a purely spiritual king, who was
to redeem them from iniquity. And while they strained
their eyes and hopes toward temporal power and splen-
dor, they failed to discern the grand moral purpose of
the Lord's mission. Hence such blind mistakes as
that of the mother of James and John, w^hen she be-
sought the Christ for places of special prominence in
his kingdom. Hence the moral anomaly of such a
question as that of his own apostles, when they asked
Iiiia " Lord, wilt thou at this time restore again the
kingdom to Israel ?" The crucifixion of the Lord,
and the withdrawal of his personal presence destroyed
such misapprehensions, and out of their ruin gradually
arose the spiritual church and kingdom, which was to

286

SERMON XVir.

be permanent among men, and the instrument of sal-
vation to all people. We know how it was in Jerusa-
lem ; his disciples fled when they saw him taken to be
crucified. And even after his resurrection had re-as-
sured them, out of all the multitudes who heard him
speak and teach, not many more than a hundred came
together as his avowed and believing disciples. But
the stumbling-block of the vulgar expectation was
removed, and now the way was more clear for the
faithful apostles to work, and by moving the hearts of
men to righteousness, to work greater works than any
outward miracles whatsoever. When Peter in Jeru-
salem moved the hearts of thousands at a time, so that
they cried out " men and brethren, what shall we do ?"
he accomplished a work of a grander order than even
Christ did when in the desert place he filled the
mouths of the thousands. For look at the result in
either case. In the one case the multitude followed
Jesus, as he himself said, because they did eat of the
loaves and were filled. In the other case they re-
pented, and were baptised for the remission of their
sins. The Lord, with prophetic eye, saw such deeply
marked and widely extended spiritual results of the
apostles' labors, and hence he assured them that they
should become the instruments of greater works than
even his own miracles.

For herein lies the chief glory and special value of
the gospel — in bringing men to a knowledge of them-
selves, in revealing to them the impurity of their own
hearts, and perversity of their own wills, and thus

INWARD RENEWAL GREATER THAN MIRACLES. 287

stirring them up from a blind and dull content with a
low moral condition, to higher aims and more heavenly
purposes. It is designed to awake them from the
death of sin, and quicken them to a life of righteous-
ness. And to this end were all the words and works
of the Lord, and of his apostles, instrumental and sub-
servient. This, in fact, is the grandest work of all —
this redemption of the soul from sin by the infusion of
a new and heavenly life.

All faithful disciples may become instruments for
the accomplishment of this great work. Every be-
liever may become an apostle, nay, he is bound to
become an apostle, and within the circuit of his
opportunity to do an apostle's work. God has not for-
saken the world, nor has Christ forsaken his follow-
ers though his personal presence is withdrawn from the
earth. The spirit of God, and the spiritual power of
the Lord, is with every sincere disciple still, to
strengthen his heart and his hands for the work of the
divme kingdom. Death and life are always in conflict.
Every thoughtful soul feels it betimes. The high reso-
lution and upward aspiration are born into life only to
be strangled by the next base appetite, or smothered
by the gradually accumulating weight of spiritual
indifference. How this crushes all divine life out of
us, and wraps us in a body of spiritual death ! And
the worst of it all is that the more we yield, the less
we perceive the power of this death. The soul goes
forth in the strength and excitement of its daily vam«
ties, while it is empty of that heavenly life which alone

288

SERMON XVII.

can uplift and sustain it amid earthly trial and vicis-
situde. Who shall deliver us from these carnal vanities
and transient excitements, from this burden of spiri-
tual indifference, and from the body of this death ?
Would that, like the great apostle, we might be able,
out of the depths of a renewed experience, to thank
God for dehve ranee through Christ the Lord. Through
him the life of God flows, which is to renew and re-
deem all our souls, and by the devout seeking and
faithful appropriation of this life, we may work a work
in itself greater than any outward miracle.

Our own souls are to be the central points oi all our
spiritual watching and spiritual work. But as Andrew,
when he found the Messias, ran and called his brother
that he too might share the joy and the blessing, so
every heart that feels its own deliverance will be ready
and eager to help others by showing them the way of
rectitude, self-conquest, fidelity and spiritual peace. It
is the sign of a dead soul when it takes no interest in
spiritual work. No man liveth to himself in any sense,
and surely no man ought to live to himself spiritually.
As the Lord still prays for us, as for Peter of old, so
likewise to us, as well as to him, his word is '* when
thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren." There
is error and ignorance and suffering and sin all around
us, and if we find ourselves contented to pursue our
daily callings, which minister primarily to our own sel-
fishness, without thinking of the condition of our suffering
brothers, or without moving a hand for their help, it is a
standing token of our moral deadness and lack of spiri-

INWARD RENEWAL GREATER THAN MIRACLES. 289

tual life. I wish we could all learn to try ourselves
even bj this simple test. It hath been said that it is
" more blessed to give than to receive." The saying
carries a rich treasure of meaning, worthy of the Lord.
In helping others we help and strengthen ourselves.
In extending the sphere of our active sympathies we
enlarge our own souls, and augment their capacity of
receiving of the higher life which flows from God to
men. If we could learn, then, to try ourselves by the
simple test proposed, it might bring us, through
the grace of God, to such a knowledge of ourselves
as would create a craving for some higher order of
life than that to which our daily selfishness holds us.
To administer physical help and comfort to the body
is well, and ought to be done. Bab as mind and soul
are greater and more lasting than the body, the light
and the life which uplift and purify these ought not to
be withheld. This spiritual light and life ought to
be regarded as the highest thing needful. And the
humblest soul that truly lives and believes, may be-
come the instrument of guiding others to the Infinite
Fountain, which is God.

Yes, I say again, with each of us our own soul is
to be the central point of our spiritual watching and
spiritual work. Until this is cleansed and clear-seeing,
conscious of divine realities, and convinced of the in-
comparable supremacy of spiritual interests, we are
destitute alike of requisite motive and requisite force
to help or benefit others. A sphere for the accom-
plishment of great works — of greater works than out-

290 - SERMON XVII.

ward miracles — lies around us all. We are encom-
passed bj spiritual indifference, which darkens the
soul's vision Godward, and through which all high
aspiration and holj and self-denying effort, are stifled
in their birth. The nobleness of a heavenly aim is not
thought of, or thought of, perhaps, only as visionary or
fanatical. The most hopeless burden of spiritual death
is not to be found always in the dens of neglected pau-
perism and crime. There, indeed, we may see human
vice in its most active and offensive forms, but it is not
there only that we may find the most hopeless condi-
tion of the human soul. In the homes of comfortable
competence — in the abodes of prosperous affluence —
where the appliances of our modern civilization are
freely used and displayed, there may the body of this
death be often, often found. The man goes out and
comes in, day after day, with no thought more noble
or elevat^'^ than that of his common calling as dedicated
to the god of earthly success. He worships this god of
success in every act of his daily life, and if this, his idol,
forsakes him, he feels that life is a failure, and that he
has nothing more left. If success cleaves to him and
favors him, his thought is that he wants nothing more,
— ^his highest ideal is realized. The woman dwells by
her well-provided board, or amid her carpets and her
tapestries, her dress, and her cherished circle. These
be her gods. For these, at least she is content to live,
without looking higher, or striving after any more hea-
venly aim. The young man and young woman copy
their elders, and they become empty and vain, frivol-

INWARD RENEWAL GREATER THAN MIRACLES. 291

ous and earthly, without seriousness of purpose, or ele-
vation of soul. All these are so many indications of
the peril which besets our condition of competence or of
prosperous affluence. How often do we find religion
and religious institutions neglected just in proportion
as we gain larger dwellings, finer furniture, and more
extended social or other interests. This shows at once
the peril of our condition, and the lack of spiritual
vitality in the soul. Here Christ comes to heal and
restore, the moment we apply to him for remedy
and relief. Wherein did he find his hfe ? Obviously
not in meats and drinks, not in earthly success and
earthly display, but in righteousness and peace and
spiritual joy ; — making if his meat and drink to do the
will of his Father in heaven, although fidelity thereto
made him homeless and without a place to lay his head,
and, finally, brought him to earthly ignominy, earthly
suffering, and a malefactor's death. " I am the vine,"
said Jesus, " ye are the branches.'* Through a living
faith we become engrafted in him, and the divine life
which flows through him, flows through us, and we Hve
henceforth as he did, for God rather than for ourselves
— for truth and rectitude, for holiness and love, as the
prime end of existence.

I wish I could adequately point out the joy and
blessedness and everlasting peace of a renewed life thus
dedicated to God — the glory of such an elevated aim,
and the uplifting power of a purpose so purely divine.
But I cannot. This I know, however, that charged
with such a life-purpose, the soul could not but loathe

292

SERMON XVII.

the meanness of its former indolence, and the sinful-
ness of its former sin, and feel a deep and living in-
terest in all other souls still bound by these deadening
spells. The stars of midnight rise and set, thej shine
serenely far away in their unfathomed distances, — but
if I were to put forth my arm, and by a marvel of
power pluck them from their spheres, so that they
should rise, and set, and shine no more, the work
would not be so great a work as the spiritual awaken-
ing of a single soul, and its permanent renewal unto a
heavenly life. Greater works than miracles may be
accomplished in our own hearts, and within the limits
of our own homesteads. Such works are done when
by timely word, by affectionate counsel, or by the un-
flinching fidelity of our own life, we stir up young or
old to higher seeking, to more elevated purpose, and
to thorough loyalty of heart to God and the Lord Jesus
Christ.

SERMON XVIII.

DUTY OF THE RICH TO THE POOR. *

•" I bare showed you all things, how that so.laboring ye ought to support
the weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus how he said, it is
more blessed to give than to receire." — Acts xx. 35.

Thus spoke the apostle Paul at his last affecting
interview with the elders of Ephesus. Here he
reminds them of the Christian obligation to support the
weak and needy who have become too p(>or and
exhausted to be able to support themselves. And he
reminds them, too, of those precious words of the Lord
Jesus, not recorded elsewhere, but so pregnant with
spiritual meaning and practical value. Rightlj under-
stood, the Gospel establishes a bond between man and
man, and between man and God, and promotes and
sustains a constant flow of good will and good works.
Of all the teaching which fell from the lips of our
Lord during his earthly ministry, none is more direct

* Preached, March let, 1883, with reference to the proposed Protestant
House of Industry and Refuge in MontreaL

294 SERMON XVIII.

and emphatic than that which relates to this point, the
Duty of the rich to the poor. And this teaching is re-
peated throughout the apostolic writings, but still the
force of the Master's own words asserts itself above all
the subsequent words of his apostles. Look at his
allegory of the great judgment, put on record by the
Evangelist Matthew, and see the grounds on which
that judgment is carried on. " Come, ye blessed of my
Father, inherit the kingdom ; . . . . for I was hungry and
ye gave me meat ; .... a stranger and ye took me in ;
naked and ye clothed me ; . . . . Then shall the righteous
answer, saying, Lord, when saw we thee hungry, and
fed thee ? . . . or a stranger, and took thee in ? or naked,
and clothed thee ? . . . And the king shall answer, verily
I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one
of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it
unto me." In this way does our Lord identify him-
self with suffering humanity in its various forms, as
brother with brother. What can be more striking and
emphatic than this statement ? Yet he would increase
its force, and impress it more deeply on our hearts by
its repetition in negative form. " Depart ye cursed :
for I was hungry, and ye gave me no meat ; . . . . Lord
when saw we thee hungry, or thirsty, or naked, and did
not minister unto thee ? . . . . verily I say unto you, inas-
much as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye
did it not unto me."

In this way, I repeat, does our Lord identify himself
with humanity in its want, and loneliness, and sickness,
and various trials. Even with the friendless outcast.

DUTY OF THE RICH TO THE POOR. 295

and the prisoner pining in his cell, does the loving
Jesus identify himself. The deeds of kindness and
mercy done to these and such as these, he accepts as
service and homage to himself. " Inasmuch as ye have
done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye
have done it unto me." Morality here becomes piety.
It is the fruit of a godlike love. How useless all pro-
fession of faith and piety is, without corresponding
well-doing, we are clearly informed elsewhere by the
Lord. '' Not every one that saith unto me. Lord,
Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven, but he
that doeth the will of my Father, which is in heaven."
The doing of the will of God is the proper blossom
and fruit of the heart-felt love of God. By identifying
himself with weak, needy and suffering humanity, as
we see he does, Jesus identifies the cause of man with
the cause of God. For he was nearest to God — in the
very '* bosom of the Father," and stood upon the earth
as God's image and representative. Elsewhere, in
a like spirit and after a similar form, he identifies him-
self with his apostles, and God with himself. " He
that receiveth you," he says, " receiveth me, and he
that receiveth me receiveth him that sent me." The
cause of Jesus is at once the cause of man and the
cause of God. And by his showing we find that he
who serves man out of a loving heart, renders a service
to the good God which, indeed, he will not despise.
Hence may we see that piety in its ripest form — in its
amplest development, is not contemplative, merely,
but active and earnest in good deeds.

296 . SERMON XVIII.

Now w^ie'i J look at the world as it is, I am struck
with the itness of such a religion as that of Jesus to
such a world as we have. I see in it the healing me-
dicine which would cure the body social of the many
sores which afflict it. We observe great social inequa-
lities, but it is not of these that we ought to complain.
With as much reason, I think, might we complain of
the existence of hills and valleys in a landscape. It
was written for the Hebrews that the poor should
never cease out of the land, and the writing stands
good for all nations. The poorer and the richer classes
we shall always have, so long as men are made, natur-
ally, some stronger and some weaker. I do not com-
plain, then, of the obvious ordinance of God, that there
should be such gradations in society. But what we
have to deplore is the suiFering of the weaker and
the poorer classes, and the prevailing selfishness of
the wealthier and stronger classes. It is a common
saying that one half the world does not know how the
other half lives. It is this prevailing separation, non-
acquaintance and neglect which we have to deplore.
Suffering is not necessarily connected with poverty
any more than happiness is with wealth. But that
there is an immense amount of suffering among the
weaker and poorer classes in all civilized lands, none
of us needs to be told.

I would not exaggerate the perils of our own
times, but I would keep them carefully in mind. If
men now-a-days are involved in a g^eat heat of com-
petition — greater than at any former time — it is

DUTY OF THE IIICII TO THE POOR. 297

because of tlie rapid progress in those branches of dis-
covery and invention which facilitate human intercourse.
A mine in Canada, California, or elsewhere, has now
the whole world for an almost immediate market.
The merchant here in Montreal can, within an hour's
time, commence and close a bargain with the merchant
of Boston, New York or Chicago. This great exten-
sion of the area of operations has infused a quicker
pulse into the whole mercantile body, and through it,
has affected the general body of active society. The
heat of competition in active society very frequently
rises to a fever heat. Self and self-interest absorb
all the living thought of multitudes. Onward they
press, these strong-minded and strong-handed selfish
men, jostling out of the way, or trampling under foot
their weaker and less capable brethren. Their for-
tunes swell, their purses are enlarged, grand houses
are raised, amply furnished with purple and fine linen,
and all the appliances of modern upholstery ; luxuries
for eye and ear and palate abound, and are enjoyed
until enjoyment palls again. Meanwhile, within the
sight of these grand houses and luxurious appliances,
are the weak and poor languishing in want — waging a
life-long war with grim misery, and harassed at every
turn with the hard temptations of their lot. The con-
trasts of St. James and St. Giles, of Fifth Avenue and
Five Points, are repeated to a greater or less extent in
every city and larger centre of population in the civi-
lized world.

The privations endured by the weak, poor and igno-

298 " SERMON XVIII.

rant, in the larger cities and central points of popu-
lation , are beyond the conception of most of those who
live in ease and luxury. That such should be the
case, is a very dark blot upon our present civilization.
When these sufferings are ferretted out and published
abroad by the patience and perseverance of some rare
philanthropy, every feeling heart contemplates the
picture with unaffected concern. That great masses
of human beings should be without adequate food,
raiment and shelter; perishing for lack of the first
elements of helpful and saving knowledge ; degraded
and suffering through sin, without knowing the cause
of their degradation and suflfering ; seeking leave to
toil and not obtain the privilege, or if they do, should
be compelled to ply a busy hand from an aching head
and an empty stomach ; — that great masses of our
fellow-creatures should be suffering so sadly, and in so
many ways, is, indeed, enough to move any heart not
altogether stone, and arrest the attention of any mind
not wholly hardened by the intensity of its selfishness.
That all this poverty and want and crime and suffer-
ing should co-exist side by side with so much super-
fluous wealth and . ostentatious living, and under
shadow, we may say, of large and costly institutions
for the promotion of education and religion, is a matter
very humiliating to those notions of advancement upon
which this age is so apt to pride itself. It is a grief
to the Christian philanthropist, a problem to the social
philosopher, a practical difficulty to the statesman.
We need not now enter upon the cause of these great

DUTY OF THE RICH TO THE POOR.

299

and striking social inequalities, or challenge the ages
that are past for a neglect of duty. Still we may say,
that if the benign and helpful spirit of the Gospel had
been duly cherished and acted on, a different result
would now be visible throughout the civilized world of
Christendom. " I have showed you,'' saith the
apostle, " that so laboring ye ought to support the
weak, and to remember the words of the Lord Jesus,
how he said, It is more blessed to give than to
receive." This is the spirit of Christianity. The
strong, active, prosperous, wealthy and advancing men,
as, by the labor of head and hand, they push them-
selves forward ; instead of neglecting their weaker
fellow-men, or jostling them aside, or trampling them
under foot, they should seek by some way to bring
them along with them — by caring for them, educating
them and otherwise helping them. " Inasmuch," saith
the Lord, '' as ye have done it to one of the least of
these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

A religion so essentially benevolent as ours, estab-
lishes a link between the different orders of men, the
richer and the poorer, the stronger and the weaker,
those who suffer and those who enjoy. And herein
may we see its admirable fitness to such a world as we
have. If this link were recognised, and not ignored,
by the more favored classes, a hopeful change would
soon be visible in the weaker and depressed classes.
If, instead of being regarded merely as outcasts or
burdens to society, or dangerous persons, or persons
of another and inferior mould, these were looked upon

300 SERMON XVIII.

^vitli fraternal sympathj, and addressed in the loving
and helpful spirit of the Gospel, a new feeling of hope
would spring up within them, and new motives would
be quickened there, which would be to them a new
power. If this were done, the poor, the weak, the
outcast and the suspected, who form the depressed
and suffering classes, would be stirred to a new sense
of their manhood and its responsibilities. Thej would
come to recognine what they owe to themselves, to
their fellow-men and to their God. This recognition
would be the recognition of religion as a vital and
personal concern. And this would be their healing
and their permanent safeguard ; and the healing and
protection of society.

Christianity has been the parent of many organiza-
tions for the help and elevation of the poorer and
suffering classes. From the first its mission has been
emphatically one of mercy. " The spirit of the Lord
God was upon the Lord Jesus Christ, because he had
anointed him to preach the gospel unto the poor, and
sent him to heal the broken hearted, to preach deliver-
ance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the
blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised." Wher-
ever we find an organization which has for its end the
promotion, in any form, of the beneficent mission of
the gospel, it ought to command our sympathy and
encouragement. Organized societies for such purpose
have great uses, and accomplish results which
could scarcely be accomplished by any amount of
separate individual effort. Still, I must say that we

DUTY OF THE RICH TO THE POOR.

801

ought not rely solely on any organizations, however
effective — we ought not rely solely on them for the
help and elevation of the weaker and depress 3d classes
of society. What I mean to say is, that we ought
not allow the individual to be hidden behind the organi-
zation. As individuals, the more favored classes ou^ht
to show an active sympathy and interest in the depres-
sed classes. The Christian idea and leaching is that
they should all be linked together by the living bond
of love, that the one class, as they rise and advance,
should endeavor to bring the other class along with
them. Mere contributions of money to sustain a
charitable organization or society does not meet in full
the beneficent demand of Christianity. Such a mode
may be little better than a formahsm. There can be
no proper life in our beneficence unless we infuse into
it some of the living spirit of the individual. Money,
after all, though very useful, may be a very cold and
dead gift. It always is so when the heart of the giver
does not go along with it. It is the heart going freely
along with it which brings to the giver the promised
blessing.

That money is a leading power in society is too
plain to be questioned. The best dispositions of mind
cannot carry on a charitable organization, if generous
contributions of substance be not forthcoming. And
the fact that money is a confessed power in the w^orld
works steadily on man's natural desire to accumulate,
urgipg him to unsleeping vigilance and persistent toil.
^ow nothin.a: tests our character more strictly than our

802

SERMON XVIII.

manner of dealing with results here. Our gathered wealth
may become a means of revealing our greatness, or a
means of publishing our baseness of soul. Wealth is a
pleasant but perilous possession. It has its special
temptations as well as poverty. Hence the wise
prayer of Agur : " give me neither poverty nor riches.''
The Christian soul instinctively repels the cynical
philosophy, and rejoices not in the misfortunes of a
neighbor, but in his good success. His success in
money making, however, is not a good success, but
a sad failure, if wealth comes to him in abundance
before he knows how to put it to a good and generous
use. Wealth is a token of capacity. When I see a
man grow rich, I know that it does not come through
blind chance, or luck, as some who have been less
successful are apt to say. No, every thousand dollars
he has, represents a well-measured thought — a balanc-
ing of probabilities, wherein all the possibilities of
wind and tide and seasonal changes may have been
brought under review ; or the possibilities of war and
peace and political changes. Wealth is a token of
capacity — of balanced judgment and concentration of
mind, at least in one direction. But if its coming
perverts the mind, holding it always and exclusively
in that one direction, it would have been a thousand-
fold better for the man if he had never become the
master of a thousand dollars.

. . There are few communities which evince more
steady signs of growing prosperity than our own. Less
rapid it may be, than that of some other cities which

- EjvgJSEMJg^^^ggKa--

DUTY OF THE RICH TO THE POOR. 303

miglit be named, but not less likely to be durable.
Our new streets, stretching wide and far into the
suburbs, show our increasing population. Our new
buildings for various purposes, ecclesiastical and com-
mercial, civic and domestic ; — our new churches and
banks, and warehouses, and markets, and dwellings —
in their solidity of structure and architectural elegance,
betoken an advancing prosperity, and advancing taste.
These are the unmistakable signs of augmented and
augmenting wealth. But amid this steady growth of
wealth in our community, what thought has been given
to the poor ? . While the strong and capable men were
pushing on and getting rich, the weaker and less cap-
able were gravitating towards poverty — some of them
falling into a condition so low that direct help was
needed to save them from the suffering of hunger
nakedness. What amount of thought or measure of
care have we given to these ? It has amounted to
something, but has the measure been adequate ? This
question, I fear, would condemn us in any open court
of Christ. The Son of man sitting in judgment on the
throne of his glory, and judging us by his own revealed
tests, would pronounce against us. Whatever may
have been the fidelity of individuals among us, as a
community we should be found wanting.

In saying this, however, we must not fail to discri-
minate. Ours is a mixed community, containing two
prominent, distinctive types of religion — Roman Catho-
lic Jind Protestant. The Protestant community is less
numerous than the Catholic. As to the relative wealth

30-4

SERMON XVIII.

of these different communites I offer no statement, but
must remind you that the wealth of each differs in kind
somewhat from that of the other ; and is under control
of a somewhat different sort. The Protestant wealth
of our community is of purely commercial, and com-
paratively recent origin ; and is held under individual
control. The Catholic wealth, on the other hand, is,
to a notable extent, of feudal and more remote origin ;
and largely held under control of ecclesiastical and re-
ligious corporations. Now wealth, coming by feudal
grant long ago, to such corporations for charitable and
kindred purposes, shows results at the present time
peculiar to itself, and not possible to Protestantism.
Th*3 is to be borne in mind when we look at the ex-
tensive structures which Catholic wealth has raised for
the relief of the poor and suffering. I do not say this
to detract from their value, but to do justice to all, not
forgetting that this rich inheritance from former times
is supplemented in these times by the individual con-
tributions of our Roman Catholic brethren. Let us
always honor the charitable disposition of wealth,
whether it come from feudal or other source, or from
our own or a remote age.

We can readily account, then, for the fact that the
largest and most prominent charitable institutions of
our city are of Roman Catholic origin, and under
Roman Catholic management. Protestantism has not
yet produced any institutions here which can approach
these in extent and efficiency. Protestantism from its
nature can never concentrate its energies and resources

DUTY OF THE RICH TO THE POOR. 305

as Catholicism can. The strict hierarchism of the
Koman Church gives it this advantage — an advantage,
however, which we believe to be far more than coun-
terbalanced by its disadvantages. Our Protestant
wealth, I have said, is of commercial and comparative-
ly recent origin, and held under individual control.
Its growth in the present generation has been very
marked. And now, having made the requisite distinc-
tion as between the Catholic and Protestant portions
of our general community, let us repeat our question
with more special reference to the Protestant part of
the community : — As we grew richer and richer, year
after year, what amount of thought or measure of care
have we given to the poor ? The Protestant commu-
nity must confess that ic has fallen short in this respect.
For many years past there has been an uneasy feeling
of this short-coming in the minds of some good and
thoughtful men, who have made efforts, by conversation
and otherwise, to arouse a more general interest in the
matter ; but without any marked result thus far.

The dawn of a better day, however, seems at length
to have come in the movement publicly inaugurated
within three months, the leading points of which may
be briefly stated. About the middle of December last,
a number of gentlemen who had had the project of
making some farther Protestant provision for the poor,
under consideration for several months previously,
called a more general meeting for the purpose of
laying the matter before it, and obtaining wider
counsel and co-operation. At this meeting a report

306

SERMON XVIII.

was presented from a committee appointed by a
former preliminary meeting. At this more general
meeting the discussion dealt mainly with the manner
of management of the institution then proposed.
It was asserted by gentlemen who had made in-
formal inquiry in reliable and influential quarters
among our Roman Catholic fellow citizens, that they
on their part did not consider co-operation as bet-
ween their co-religionists and Protestants, desirable or
even possible in such a matter. There were some at
the meeting who wished it might have been otherwise,
thinking that in an affair of public and practical charity,
theological and ritual peculiarities might have been
held in abeyance. This was my own view of the matter,
but it became evident that it would not be possible to
act upon it. We must be patient with that defective
apprehension of Christianity so common throughout
Christendom, which is prone to elevate the accidental
to the place of the essential. Love God with all the
strength of thy nature — this first, said our Lord. Then,
second, love thy neighbor as thyself. All the law and
prophets hang on these two commands — act them out
in the life, not after the manner of the Priest and Levite,
but in the spirit of the good Samaritan, and thou
shalt live. So hath the loving Christ declared, but
neither Protestant nor Romanist, as such, can fathom
the depths divine of this double command, or scale its
heights, or discern the breadth of its sweep, where it
blends the horizon of the earthly life with the heavenly.
To do this we must rise out of our peculiarities of Pro-

DUTY OF THE RICH TO THE POOR. 307

testantism and Catholicism to the higher plane of the
true Christian life, where all is joyous, generous and
loving, through the life of God which dwells in us, and
by virtue of which we can place such peculiarities not
out of mind entirely, but out of sight for a while. When
the Christianity of Christendom comes to perfection
we shall have less trouble in making arrangements to
carry out its obvious work. Meantime let us be patient,
and hold ourselves ready to work in the cause of Chris-
tianity and the poor, with what methods we can com-
mand. If Catholics and Protestants may not work
together, let them work separately. This was the de-
cision arrived at, and laid down as the basis of further
proceedings.

The next question raised was on the title of the
institution, turning mainly on the manner and place
where the distinctive term Protestant should be intro-
duced. The proposition of styling it a " House of
Industry and Refuge for the Protestant poor " was,
after much consideration, deliberately set aside, and
another form adopted as more fitting,viz: the "Protestant
House of Industry and Refuge" — the declared inten-
tion being to organize and maintain it under Protestant
management. Thus styled and organized it will meet
a want which has been long felt in this community. A
place will be provided for the relief of the poor, where
they will not only not be presented with the ritual of
the Roman Catholic religion, but they will be provided
with the simpler ritual of the Protestant religion. A
week after this meeting was held — that is, on Christ-

808

SERMON XVni.

mas day last, the venerable Catholic Bishop of the
diocese of Montreal wrote a pastoral letter from the
Hotel Dieu of this city, conceived in the most kindly
spirit toward all concerned, wherein he corroborated
entirely the report made at the meeting with respect
to the impossibility of co-operation as between Catholics
and Protestants, in such a proposed work of charity.
This official declaration of the highest dignitary of the
Roman Church in our city removed all doubt as to the
mind of the Catholic community in this affair. And
thenceforth the Protestant action became more com-
pact, resolute, and promising. An institution under
Protestant management, where the ministrations of re-
ligion would be according to Protestant form and usage,
would be the natural place for the Protestant poor to
seek, and be sent for relief, just as the CathoHc poor
naturally seek, and are found in Catholic institutions ;
while poor, ignorant, and destitute persons, who could
scarcely declare themselves either Protestant or Ca-
tholic without doing damage to their mental sincerity,
will find their way for relief to one or other, as Provi-
dence, working through men and circumstances, may
direct.

Now an institution, such as this proposed " Protes-
tant House of Industry and Refuge," must be raised
and supported by the free-will offerings of the Protes-
tant community of this city. And in order to approach
their fellow citizens with fuller authority to receive
such offerings, the gentlemen interested in the move-
ment decided on calling a pubUc meeting by public

DUTY OF THE KICH TO THE POOR. 309

advertisement. This public meeting took place about
the middle of January last, and formally " approved of
the proposal to establish a Protestant House of Indus-
try and Refuge, and pledged itself to use the utmost
exertion to institute and maintain it." The call for
this meeting was signed by the Protestant clergymen
of the city generally, and this resolution, no doubt,
had the cordial concurrence of all. A committee was
appointed to collect funds, and subscription lists
were opened. These lists are still open, inviting con-
tributions from all who are able to give. The move-
ment, as it now appears, gives hope of a successful
issud, but the measure of its success depends altogether
on the measure of our Protestant generosity in this
cause of practical charity.

Engaged in an undertaking of this kind, it does not
become us to scan the motives of our brother men whe-
ther they ^ve, or abstain from giving. Let us persuade
them by the love of Christ and the behests of the
gospel, to a generous distribution, reminding them, as
the apostle did, that the strong ought to support the
weak, and reminding, them too, as the apostle did, of
the words of the Lord Jesus, how he said, " it is more
blessed to give than to receive." But let us leave their
motives to be dealt with by God alone. Those who
engage in an enterprise like this, in order to carry it
to a successful issue must regard themselves as the
agents and advocates of the poor, and should hold them-
selves ready to merge their personal predilections in
the wider sphere of their clients' interest. Various

310

SERMON XVIII.

men will doubtless give through various motives. And
though one of these only, the impulse of the loving
heart, will bring benefit to the giver, the gifts of all may
nevertheless be helpful to the receiver. Hear the
apostle again, " though I bestow all my goods to feed
the poor, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing."
It profiteth me nothing, indeed, yet, sin^e my gift
feeds the poor, it helps him.

Motives are manifold. Time limits us now to a notice
of three. The lowest form of prudence may move
some men to give. A man thus moved will say : "If
I do not provide something for the poor, they will
become dangerous in society, and my property will be
jeopardised by their presence. Or, they may become
burdensome to society, and my property will be heavily
taxed for their support." And such a man gives, in
order to escape a greater evil. Another man may be
moved through a pressure of conscience. Such a man
will say : " It is not right that I should enjoy so much
from my wealth, while my poorer brother suffers so
much from his poverty. The contrast reminds me of
duty unperformed, and I must do something, else my
purple and fine linen will sting me with pain, and my
sumptuous fare be as ashes to my taste. I am driven
to give for my own relief, though I connot do so with-
out some halting, for my money has a close hold on
my heart." Others give through pure love — love of
Christ, and the cause of the poor. And these will give
freely, without the halting of an unwilling heart driven
by conscience, or the tedious calculations of a selfish

DUTY OF THE RICH TO THE POOR. 311

policy. Love gives freely, out of a spirit of sacrifice
akin to that of Christ, saying : " Even as my dear
Lord gave himself for me, so give I of my substance
to him as he comes to me in the form of the weak, the
poor, and the suffering ones — ^his brethren and mine."
Motives are manifold, and mix themselves variously
in various minds. In founding an institution like that
proposed, free room should be made for all classes of
gifts which will be of service to the poor. The Pro-
testant community of this city is a growing one, and
we should lay the foundation of our proposed Protes-
tant institution, as broad and solid as we can. The
ability exists to do this — to found and endow an insti-
tution adequate to the necessity. Shall the will be
halting or lacking ? As I look at our general Protes-
tant community, so active and prosperous, I cannot
suspect or suppose a lacking will in a matter of such
clear Christian obligation. I hope rather to see the
project dealt with, and carried out as a matter of pri-
vilege. And thus, certainly, it will be regarded by
every one who has realized the meaning of the Lord's
words when he said : " It is more blessed to give than
to receive." Nor let us ever forget those other words
of the Lord : " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one
of the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto
me."

SERMON XIX.

PERSONAL SCRUTINY.

Lord, is it 17— Matt. xxvi. 22.

There is a memorable sense in which it may be said
that every soul should be its own central point of ob-
servation. In the universe God is central and circum-
ferent — filling all things. Man is not only the crea-
ture but the child of God — a living soul, by virtue of
the divine spirit breathed into him at the first, giving
him a breath or spirit of life of a higher order than
mere animal existence. Man always, and under all
circumstances, lies within the domain of God as Sover-
eign Euler. But within this infinite domain there is
a domain finite, clearly enough marked, within which
the individuahty of each man has free play to will and
to do. He can never escape from the domain of God
as Sovereign Ruler, but he may, through the obedience
of love, or the disobedience of wilfulness or estranged
affection, either keep near to God as heavenly Father,

PERSONAL SCRUTINY. 313

or go far away from his household. This freedom to
Tvill and to do, is at once man's glory and man's peril.
And, in this matter of moral responsibility, the soul is
in a safe state only when its first thoughts of scrutiny
and inquest are turned upon itself. Throughout the
wide domain of human duty, when we are startled by
actual or possible faithlessness, in any direction, then
should the individual soul be regarded as central, and
the first glance of scrutiny be cast inward and there.
Then should the first question be — " Lord, is it I ?"
The Gospel of Christ is a covenant, sealed with many
seals — a message authenticated by many tokens. One
of its tokens of authentication I find in this — viz., that
the fight of the true religion is shown forth in a living
person. I become more and more convinced of the
value and significance of this token, as I read, year after
year, one or other discussion concerning the " absolute
religion," so-called, involving dissertations on abst^^act
truth and goodness, the moral power and proper author-
ity thereof, and so forth ; all very good in their own
way, and so far as they go. But although the advocates
of such theories claim to reach the ultimate point of
the discussion thereby, to my mind they fall far and
sadly short of it. We are bound not only to look at
the absolute truth and goodness, but to the mass of
humanity on whom these are to take effect. Truth and
goodness considered as abstractions have but small
power. That they are authoritative, rightly demand-
ing obedience, is undoubted. But how can they make
their appeal felt ? One man in a thousand, perhaps, by

314 * SERMON XIX.

reason of finer moral apprehension may, practically,
recognise their claim. But of the mass of human souls,
vs we see them, toiling with their burdens of daily care,
quite unused to abstract thought, and apprehending
things only as they are presented in concrete form ; — of
this mass, how few will reach any adequate apprehen-
sion of the matter for practical purposes. Indeed the
mass of the people in Christendom will be confused
rather than edified by such discussions. Going out to-
day on any highway, how many persons, among the
crowds we might meet, would feel any living interest
in the most careful discussion concerning the abstrac-
tions of form, color and fragrance ? Not one in ten.
But present to any one of them a visible, palpable
combination of these qualities, as seen in a queenly
rose, and he will at once appreciate its loveliness. He
will prize the flower and enjoy it, although the most
elaborate discussion of its qualities would fail to move
his admiration, or awaken his interest.

Hence may we see the manifest need, so far as man
is concerned, of having the truth and love which are
to inspire and redeem him, presented in the form of a
living person. And the graciousness of the heavenly
Father's purpose in sending Christ, — a man in form
and feeling, a " man of sorrows and acquainted
with grief," but filled immeasurably with the divine
spirit; — the heavenly Father's graciousness of purpose,
I say, is clearly seen in this condescension to human
need. For thus Christ came — the embodiment of
heavenly love and truth. In his person and life we see

PERSONAL SCRUTINY. 315

these divine qualities presented in most simple, attrac-
tive and forcible form. By following him from place to
place, observing his acts and listening to his words, we
are led into the highest secrets of true and holy living.
And so may all be led. Not the learned only, or those
who can apprehend or appreciate elaborate discussion,
but the unlearned and simple-minded, who compose the
great mass of the people in all ages and all lands. What-
ever, therefore, may be the tenor of present discussions
concerning abstract truth and the absolute authority
thereof, or whatever may be the importance attached
to correct conclusions in the matter, I hold that it is of
higher importance to accept the truth as we see it, like
a light shining in the person and life of Christ, and
transfer it to our own lives, that it may shine like a
Hght there likewise. And we may fairly suspect our
own sincerity and depth of purpose, if we find our-
selves more eager to criticise distinctions as between the
person and the thing, than to receive the truth in the
spirit of love and obedience.

As an instrument of impressing men with the beauty
and the power of the divine life, a visible personality,
inspired without measure with the truth and love from
God which make life divine, was urgently needed.
And such a personality came in the person of Jesus.
By virtue of the truth and love with which he was so
thoroughly inspired, he spake with authority. Himself
divine, through the immeasurable inspiration of divine
truth and love received from God, he came to quicken
men, dead in sin, with this higher life of heaven. Him-

316 ' SERMON XIX.

self the divine man, he came to lead and lift all men
to a renewed participation of divine gifts of the spirit,
to make them one with God and in God, as he himself
was, in higher measure. We have only to look at the
narratives of his life to see what a profound impression
he made on those with whom he came in contact. The
common people everywhere heard him gladly. His
immediate disciples were his personal and strongly
attached friends. At his last supper with them, when
he foretold the treachery which he clearly foresaw, it
was with a troubled spirit on his own part, while they,
on their part, heard with sorrowful hearts. Startled
with such tidings of approaching faithlessness, each
reverted to himself, desiring to know concerning the
possibility of such guilt attaching to him. Every one
of them began to say, " Lord, is it I ?" Each was
instantly set to think of himself, in relation to the
criminal baseness predicted.

The Lord is no longer with his disciples in bodily
presence. No longer with the eye of the body can we
see the loved form which embodies the heavenly truth and
love, which win and impress our souls. But that form
once appeared, and the appearance thereof was for the
benefit of men in all time. The physical form of Jesus
was mortal and slain upon the cross. The spiritual
form of the Christ was immortal, and beyond the power
of death. And this, after all, was and is the es=?ential
Christ, the permanent Messiah of God to man. This
spiritual and undying Messiah is with us still. And
still, as we listen to him, may he by his suggestion stir

PERSONAL SCRUTINY. 317

US to personal scrutiny, leading us, in reference to actual
or possible faithlessness, to inquire, " Lord, is it I ?"

" Verily, I say unto you," said Jesus, " that one of
you shall betray me." " And they began every one of
them to say unto him. Lord, is it I ?" The faithless-
ness of Judas appears in the most repulsive form.
Called to the apostleship and admitted into the circle
of personal friendship, yet for a money-bribe he be-
trayed his Lord into the hands of enemies who sought
his life. Judas stands the historic type of traitor in
all ages. But all faithlessness is of a kind. The
differences are of degree only. Discipleship involves
respect and fidelity. Discipleship to Chiist involves
fidelity to Christ, and by this I mean, emphatically,
fidelity to all the divine qualities and perfections em-
bodied in his person. Divine truth and love were in-
carnate in his human form, making him light of the
world, and quickener of new life in men. For more
than eighteen centuries that human form has been re-
moved from mortal sight, but the spiritual form abides ;
— the most commanding figure in history. Truth and
love are with us, always, in Christ and as Christ, de-
mandmg instant and constant service, appealing to
every faculty and affection to win us to their own way
as the way of true life. Thus would Christ still lead
and guide men to the heavenly Father ; making himself
personal friend and helper, according to the measure
and quality of the disciple's love.

Where love has no deeper root than emotion, its
fidelity is uncertain. The cry of " Lord, Lord," may

318 * SERMON XIX.

be often on the lips, while truth is disregarded, right-
eousness of life neglected, and the Father's will left
undone. If love is to bring forth rightful and abiding
fruit in the life, its root must be nourished bj living
principles of rectitude. Not as a luxury, merely, is
love to be sought and enjoyed, still less as minister to
spiritual pride, but as helper in the way of duty.
Herein are we to walk, as Jesus walked, not to please
men but to do the Father's will, though it should leave
us homeless, friendless, and fainting under the burden
of a cross. Thus nourished, the root of love brings
forth the fruits of rectitude. Truth becomes sacred
in our eyes, and well-doing is regarded as the ever-
present requirement of God. Our sympathies are
enlarged and our spiritual vision quickened to discern
the manifold relations in which we stand. Thus the
full sphere of duty becomes more clearly revealed,
and all the details thereof.

I have said that fidehty to Christ properly signifies
fidehty to the divine qualities and perfections embodied
in his person. And so, wherever there is faithlessness
to these, there is faithlessness to him. Consider this
statement in relation and appHcation to the morality
and life of nations. Is man oppressed ? or truth set
at naught ? Is justice held as of small account ? or

class selfishness predominant ? Consider

it, again, in relation and application to the morality
and the fife of communities less extended, as of the
city or circle of society around us. Are truth, honor,
rectitude, subordinated to personal convenience or mere

PEKSONAL SCRUTINY. 319

conventional expectation ? Does impurity exist ? or
intemperance abound ? Does envy prevail ? or evil-
speaking have free course ? Are the stronger unmind-
ful of the weaker ? or does sin still stick close between

buying and selling ? Such questions might be

extended indefinitely And the matter might

be considered yet farther in relation and application
to individual life. Here it is worthy the most carefal
and prayerful thought. For it is obvious that indi-
vidual life is the main factor in the production of the
aggregate life of society in any and every form. The
quahty and value of the orchard harvest are to be
judged, not only by the product of each separate tree,
but, in the first instance, by the quality of the sepa-
rate apples which are found on the branches.

** Lord, is it I ?" Here we have a suggestion to
personal scrutiny, uttered under very affecting circum-
stances. Personal scrutiny is of prime importance as
a rule of holy living. You know how Jesus urged it.
The beam in thine own eye is to be considered before
the mote in thy brother's. Yet no rule is more likely
to be overlooked. Self-love overshadows it. Go out
into the streets, and you will find ten men who are
ready to scrutinize then: neighbors in motive and con-
duct, and pass judgment on society in general, for one
who is ready to scrutinize himself and his own ways.
There is, in this matter, an inveterate tendency to look
outward, towards the circumference, rather than
inward, towards and at the centre.

But in all responsibilities, national and social, as

320 SERMON XIX.

well as individual, the great question for each of us is,
" Lord, is it I ?" The limit of our responsibility is to
be measured by the answer which is rendered here.
Each man will have to bear his own burden, not
another's. Each man, I say, will have to bear his
own. When national sins prevail, we should say,
" Lord, is it I ?" and seek to discover how far each of
us is responsible for them. For be assured that every
man in a free country is responsible for the common
sins of the country, so far as he sympathises therewith,
or fails to bear testimony against them, when oppor-
tunity offers. When social sins prevail, the same ques-
tion should be uppermost, and knocking at the door of
heart and conscience for an answer — still the same
question : " Lord, is it I ?" For be ye well assured
that in many things, as in the sin of intemperance,
for example, we may offend heedlessly. The usages
we support, through heedlessness, or the desire to
satisfy conventional expectation, bring forth disastrous
results, visible every day in individual degradation,
sin and suffering. Thus, striving to discern our own
actual contact with the evil wherever, or in whatever
form, it exists, we shall be made acquainted with our
true condition, which otherwise we are so likely to
overlook. And with the eye of the calm and heavenly
Master upon us, we shall be ashamed of our faithless-
ness to himself and the everlasting laws of his king-
dom. As his blessed form rises before us, the image
of the majesty of the Highest, we shall be constrained
to bow before that majesty in confession of our personal

PERSONAL SCRUTINY. 821

neglects and sins, and seek that renewal which comes
from the cleansing of the ever ready and ever present
spirit of God. This gives the renewed heart. This
gives the regenerated life, wherein new and loftier
purposes mould and control the whole nature of the
man. The renewed hearts and the regenerated lives
of individual disciples — these form the living stones
of that grand temple of redeemed humanity, of which
the Lord Jesus himself is the chief corner stone. The
great company of renewed and regenerated disciples
living above all vulgar and debasing aims, with the
eye of the soul fixed on heavenly truth and heavenly
excellence, as the grand attainment and purpose of life
here and hereafter, now and forever, — this great com-
pany, looking unto Jesus as Lord and Leader, and
following him as Forerunner, is the harvest of his
work of redemption. So let us live, here and now,
that we may be found as ripe sheaves at the time of
the great gathering.

SERMON XX.

MORAL POSITION.

" And the Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto him : Where art
thou V'—Gen. iii. 9.

In our human experience there are, evermore, alter-
nating seasons of sunshine and of shade. The wonder-
ful nature of man, swayed by the uppermost motive of
the hour, constantly complicates its own action, and
oftentimes contradicts itself. What it would, that it
does not ; and what it would not, that it does* Hence
come conflict and dissatisfaction, shame, remorse and
fear.

God has not hidden from us the conditions under
which we live. He writes them in our nature, revealing
them unmistakably there, so that he who runs may
read, and he who looks may see. Every thought-
ful man knows them, for they are made patent in human
experience. Clouds come and go : shadows thicken,
and the soul knows not what light is betimes, or fears

MORAL POSITION. 323

it if it knows. Beliold here the working of our moral
nature ! There is light in the universe —the light of
truth and excellence, and the clear eye looks upon it,
loves it, and rejoices in it ; yea, loves it with a love
more than earthly, and rejoices in it with a joy which
is nothing less than heavenly. But the clear eye
belongs to the loyal soul, and to the loyal soul only.
It, only, can properly love the light, and rejoice in the
broad and open sunshine. When God, who is perfect*
truth, and perfect excellence, is devoutly served out
of the motions of a loving heart, then is there peace
within ; that high inward satisfaction which comes from
harmonious working of all the moral forces of our nature.
And then, too, there is that humble and steadfast con-
fidence toward God, which walks before him without
the hiding of shame or halting of fear. This is the
walk of the loyal subject and loving child, in presence
of the righteous King and loving Father of all.

For the disloyal and unloving soul there is a far
different experience. And so there must be. It is not
the result of any arbitrary appointment, but comes
from a law fixed in our nature — fixed there in mercy
by the great and loving God. A most gracious provi-
sion it is, smiting us, and stinging us, and driving
us to seek a covert wherein to hide. We may set the
high commands of heaven at defiance to serve some
present purpose of our own, and a transient satisfaction
may come from the audacity ; but the end is not yet.
We may think ourselves wiser than God and the Gos-
pel, and follow forbidden ways, spending our energies

324 SERMON XX.

in low and selfish service, hunting after riches, worldly
preferment, sensual gratification, and the like — we may
find all we seek in this direction, and rejoice in it ; but
still I say the end is not yet. There are faculties of our
nature which cannot be satisfied with this low service.
There is an integral part of our being which protests
against continued disloyalty to heaven, and disregard
of the highest law. Conscience moves us, and shame
seizes us, and remorse stings us : and the fear of the
self-condemned soul drives us in quest of a hiding place.
God, through conscience, challenges and arraigns us,
and we dread an appearance in his presence.

In this way is the scene of Eden's garden re-enacted
in every part of this planet of ours, and in every age from
Adam's day till our own. That story of the primitive
man and his falling, recorded in the opening chapters
of the Bible, is, substantially, the story of man in gen-
eral, wherever he is found. Look into the record :
Made in the image of God, the first man was placed in
the garden. Somethmg was given him to do. Thus had
ae a special work allotted to him. Something also was
disallowed — the fruit of a certain tree prohibited.
Herein was scope given for the free play of the various
forces of his moral nature.

We know the result. He broke the divine injunc-
tion laid upon him ; this was his fall, and thenceforth
all was changed. Through yielding to the power of
evil, his moral nature was abased, shame took hold of
him ; and he and his wife could no longer look on each
other as before. A strange and awful knowledge

MORAL POSITION. 325

flashed on them through their transgre:sion, — a new
and startling experience passed into their being, grav-
ing itself there, in lines deep and sharp and agonizing.
Ashamed to meet each other, just as before, without
any covering, Adam and his wife were utterly afraid
to appear in the presence of the Lord, and they nid
themselves away among the trees of the garden.

Then came the challenge and arraignment. " The
Lord God called unto Adam, and said unto him;
Where art thou ?"

Then came the exculpation. The man throwing
responsibility on the woman. And the woman, in her
turn, throwing it on the serpent.

Then came the condemnation to each and all. The
aspect of the world was changed to both man and
woman. The conditions of their earthly life became
harder. Driven from Eden, they no longer had its
joys, when they ceased to have its innocence and its
glad obedience.

" And the Lord God called unto Adam and said unto
him; Where art thou ?'' Such was the call of God to
Adam, and such is his call to every son of Adam.
God is near to every one of us as he was to the first
man, and to every one of us has he given his place
and work — the sphere wherein each of us is to do, to
suffer, and to live. Where are we ? And how are we
doing our work ? Hiding away in shame, skulking off
in idleness and disobedience out of God's view ? Or
standing in our place striving to render an honest ser-
vice as in the open presence of the Lord ?

326 SERMON XX.

In the complicated relations of our modern society,
the TN'ork of man is greatly multiplied and diversified.
In the throng of men, in the competitions of commerce,
in the excitements of politics, in the busy whirl of
social life, a variety of interests are presented which
challenge man's attention, and attract to themselves
his passionate regard. Without any extravagance of
figure we may liken the world to a garden, still — a
garden of various growth, in which man is placed by
the all-disposing Providence of God " to dress it and
keep it," — to root out every weed of evil, to watch and
foster every flower of goodness, and to prune every
tree so that it may bring forth its best fruit. Now, so
far as we are concerned, we may make our world a
garden fair, or a desert drear — we may make it bloom
with beauty, or have it waste like a wilderness. We
may do this by the spirit in which we do our work, or
fail to do it. All the interests which surround us to
challenge our attention and attract our regard, bear to
us a certain moral relation ; so that we may still hear
tlie word of God sounding in our ears and saying : this
tree shalt thou cherish and carefully tend, but of the
fruit of that tree thou may est not eat at all. The re-
sponsibilities and perils of Adam's position are with
every one of us. And it becomes us to pause betimes,
and consider how we meet them, and to consider, more-
over, whether the appearance of the Lord God among
us would fill us with shame and dread, or inspire us
with lively satisfaction or glad delight.

Some men can do their work in the open day, and

MORAL POSITION.

327

rejoice in the broad and generous sun-liglit. These
are the men of honest, sincere and upright nature, who
set themselves to do an honest, sincere and upright
work. There are others, again, who do their work in
darkness, or by the glimmer of some covert lantern
These are the men of dishonest, base and cunning
nature, who set themselves to do a base and dishonest
work. With full daylight around them, and the pres-
ence of an honest man, such men would be ashamed
and scared from their deeds. They would not dare to
force a bolt and open a door, or break a safe, or ran-
sack a drawer, for the sake of what money or goods
they might find there to steal. With constant day-
light and the universal presence of honest men, the
burglar's calling would cease. The burglar's caUing
is a crime against society, and a coarse and palpable
form of sin against God. But all sin is of the same
nature and essence, though it may not clothe itself in
outward and palpable form, but stand as thought only,
without revealing itself in word or deed. Whatever
stands opposed to divine holiness and rectitude is sin ;
and God must regard it as such, whether only cherish-
ed in the heart, or uttered in words, or acted out in
the life. And nothing in the universe is so awful and
dreadful as sin — nothing in the universe so much to
be detested ; inasmuch as it is its nature to array
itself against God.

Where are we ? and how are we doing the work of
life in the department wherein God has placed us ? In
the spirit of obedience or of disobedience ? In the spirit

328 SERMON XX.

of loyalty and love toward God, or of rebellion and
sin against him ? The trees of Eden's garden could
not hide Adam from God's view, nor shut him off from
the hearing of God's voice. Nor can all the intricate
relations of our modern society screen the men of the
present day from the same eye and the same voice.
The divine eye finds us out, no matter where we are,
in public or in private, and in spite of all human
devices to evade it. It falls upon us to gladden us or
to shame us, to light up our souls with joy, or to
darken them with dread, according to the character of
^he lives which we live.

I have just alluded to the burglar's calling, but this
was not because I supposed that any one here would be
likely to force a door at midnight and pillage the house.
Indeed, if sin always took coarse and palpable forms
like this — if it always showed itself as a crime against
society, as well as an offence to God, we should be
spared a good deal of watching and warning against it.
If the police always had jurisdiction of sin, the pulpit
might modify its ways of approaching it and dealing
with it. Man, however, is not qualified for such ex-
tensive jurisdiction over man, and it is not fit that he
should have it, beyond the obvious limit required for
the protection of life and property. But the spirit
which animates the burglar when he prowls about in
darkness, animates thousands who never attempt
burglary. Darkness is sought and loved because
of evil deeds ; and concealment is sought and resorted
to, through shame and fear. Thoughts are harbored,

MORAL POSITION. 329

feelings cherished, and tortuous courses pursued, where
light is shunned and discovery dreaded. Envy and
detraction and dishonesty do their work in their own
ways, and for their own ends. One is piqued at
another's prosperity, and lays hidden plans to check
it. One trader passes off his wares to another, con-
cealing some defect in quality or quantity. Many an
iniquity is secretly cherished in the soul which would
not be openly confessed, though assiduously pushed to
results which tend to the detriment and damage of
others. How much of the time and thoughts of men
— ^how much of the forces and energies of their nature
are spent in this false and disavowed direction, no man
can know or pretend to know. But it is all open to
the eye of God. There is no turn which worldly cun-
ning takes, no device of plausible hypocrisy in morals
or religion, no glossed falsehood in poHtics, trade, or
social intercourse, but stands clearly revealed to that
eye supreme. And before that eye all forms of skulk-
ing sin are brought to the same level. In them all,
there is seen the same disregard of divine law, the
same wilfulness and spirit of disobedience, the same
shame and dread of detection. Whatever form it may
take, it is still Adam in his sin hiding away among the
trees of the garden.

Is there not, my friends, a very striking and instruc-
tive lesson for us here ? Adam's nature is born again
into the wo^.li with every one of us. I do not say
Adam's sin la born with us at our birth, as a current
form of theology teaches. No, I hold that Adam's

830 • SERMON XX.

sin was his own affair, and that our sin is, in Hke man-
ner, our own affair. I dare not teach a theology which
would even seem to soothe the conscience under sin by
presenting any view which would diminish the strict-
ness of individual responsibihty. I dare not present
any view which would encourage any one to believe
that the author of our nature was in any sense, or by
any implication, the author of our sin. I simply say
that Adam's nature was born afresh into the world in
every one of us, the same liability to sin, the same ten-
dency to set aside the divine will, through desire to
satisfy our own self-will. For herein consists the
essence of sin — in this, the arraying of ourselves
against God — our self-will against his supreme will.
This, whatever form it may take, is the rebellion of the
human heart against God, which entails on man shame
and fear, disaster and woe unspeakable. While we
remember this, we should remember, likewise, that in
the complicated relations of our modern society our
temptations are multiplied and our evil tendencies
accelerated. To the men of our day, the forbidden
tree has a thousand branches unseen by the first man,
and a thousand tempting forms of fruit unknown to
him. Then there are current usages and conventional
morals standing thick in the field of life^ like so many
trees offering us a shelter and hiding-place from the
eye of God. Do we break truth, violate justice, set
purity at defiance or put love in abeyance ? — We quote
current usages, and fall back on conventional morals
as a justification. Are we not as good as our neigh-

MORAL POSITION. 381

bors, and tvIio art thou — a prophet or a visionary —
who would urge any higher way of thought or life ?
In matters of politics and trade, in the management of
general afiairs, we work largely through associated
action ; and under this covert we are often tempted to
take shelter from our individual responsibilities. Ah,
many a time do men hide away here, far from the open
daylight of truth, justice and love — far away from it^
because they fear it. And if this light is sent after
them into their covert, so that the falsity of their souls
is revealed to them, they treat it as an intrusion, and
grow impatient and irritated. The demons are ever-
more impatient and irritated at the radiant and rebuk-
ing presence of the Christ. Their cry still is : ^' What
have we to do with thee, thou Son of God ? art thou
come hither to torment us ?"

Adam's nature is born into us all. "VYe have a gar-
den far wider than his garden — a place given us by
the good God in the great world of men, wherein we
are to do and to suffer, to obey or to disobey, accord-
ing to the measure of our moral power and spiritual
aspiration. We have the varied experience of man
for some thousands of years providentially recorded for
our help and guidance. We have seen the falling of
men through the force of their passions, and their
rising again through the mercy of God. The story of
Adam himself has been preserved for our instruction.
We have seen him in his fall, his shame, his fear, his
hiding, his poor exculpation, and his banishment from
paradise. We have seen the humiliation, through sin.

332

SERMON XX.

of Israel's great and magnanimous king, and his melt-
ing penitence when the consciousness of it flashed like
a ray of new born light upon his soul. In the case of
one of the first and greatest of the apostles, we have
seen human nature, in its blindness and w^eakness, wrap-
ping itself up in the mantle of its own strength and
courage, only to be stricken through the heart with
piercing anguish by its own revealed cowardice and
disloyalty. All this we have seen, and far more too,
in Bible history, in other history, and in cur common
observation, to remind us of the power of sin, and the
prevalence of sin, its temptations, and the tendency of
human nature to come under its yoke. But, thanks be
to God, we have seen, likewise, some of the triumphs
of holiness, even when sin tempted strong ; and fidelity
to heaven, though the powers of earth breathed only
threatening and denunciation : We have seen Joseph,
and Daniel, and Elijah. Thus it is, that from the
varied experience of humanity the examples rise ; —
some for our warning and some for our encouragement.
Above and beyond all others may we see the Lord
Jesus — the Son of God and conqueror of sin ; foiling
the tempter at every turn he takes, whether in desert
place, on mountain top, or temple height. The syren
voice of evil falls harmless on his ear. Its gilded form
has no charm for his eye. Let it rally its forces for
the conflict, and ply its strokes in what manner or
measure it may, the serene form of the Lord comes
forth unhurt and triumphant. He met evil in the
strength of God, and hence his conquest of it. He

MORAL POSITION.

333

met it and -wrestled with it, in the full consciousness of
the Father's presence. By his constant waiting upon
God and his unwavering filial obedience, the spirit
of God flowed unto him without measure. Filled with
the divine fulness, he was strengthened unto victory.
Thus fortified he overcame.

And he overcame that we might overcome. Through
him that loved us, we may conquer too. His Father
is our Father, as he has told us, and his God our God.
Our heavenly Father, he assures us, will give the holy
spirit to them that ask him. Herein, and in the con-
sciousness of the Father's presence, may we find
strength as he found strength — strength even to con-
quest. And this is the Savior's joy, when he leads
his followers to victory through the power of God.

"Adam, where art thou?" said the Lord God.
Christian friends, where are we ? And how are we
doing our work in Hfe ? Are we hiding away in shame
and fear from the presence of the Lord ? Or, living
as under God's eye, are we loyally striving to do his
will ?

SERMON XXI.

VISIBLE CHARACTER, NOT PRIVATE
VISION, THE CHRISTIAN MARK.

"I forbear, lest any man should think of me above that which he secth
me to be."— 2 Cor. xii. 6.

That we may reach the apostle's meaning here, it is
needful to look at what he writes immediately before
our text. The favor which certain false teachers had
met with in the church at Corinth, had compelled
Paul, out of regard for the safety of the believers there,
and their right guidance into Gospel truth, to remind
them, by direct assertion, of his own superior claim.
Such self-assertion was not agreeable to his own feel-
ings, but in so grave a matter as the one before him
involved — ^being nothing less than the issue as between
true and false teaching, he would not allow his personal
feelings to bar the needful argument. The ingratitude
of the Corinthians, and their neglect, had forced him
to this course. Yet his was not the self-assertion of
vainglory. Quite otherwise, indeed. First and last

VISIBLE CHARACTER, THE CHRISTIAN MARK. 335

he gives God the praise. Personally he is no thin o*.
His claim rests on this : that he is the instrument of
God's purpose, willing and glad to surrender himself
in every faculty of his nature to divine use. He re-
joices not, nor glories, in his strength, but in his infirm-
ities ; for it is through his human infirmities that
divine grace and power become more clearly manifest.
These very weaknesses are turned to highest account,
inasmuch as they are made the ground on which the
power of Christ may be made to appear.-—" When I
am weak," he says, " then am I strong.'* This para-
dox is explicable to those only who can appreciate the
deeper religious experiences. God is the primal source
of strength. In all the exigencies of life we are strong
in proportion to the closeness of our fihal trust in him.
This was the secret of the Lord Christ's strength.
The closeness of his filial trust was complete. And
in the measure of the disciple's imitation of the Master,
so will the strength divine come. Had Paul sought to
glorify himself, apart from God, he would certainly
have failed in his mission as an apostle. During his
apostleship he was subjected to great trials. He had
personal defects which he keenly felt. He was hindered
by the opposition of vain and self-asserting men within
the churches, and he was harassed by persecution
from implacable enemies without. To meet these
various trials and embarrassments, he felt he had no
strength apart from God. Through this consciousness
of personal weakness, he felfc the higher strength flow
in upon his soul, and so flood his nature that he could

336 . SERMON XXI.

exclaim : " I can do all tliing3 through Christ, which
strengtheneth me." (^Phil. iv. 13.)

The power of Christ's life had fallen effectually upon
Paul, and made him a strong and conquering apostle,
— overeoming all difficulties in the fulfilment of his
mission. He would rather not boast of anything, not
deeming it expedient ; but since it was forced upon him
by the necessities of the case, and in vindication of
the truth, he would remind all concerned of what he
was, the persecutions he endured, and the responsi-
bilities which rested upon him, and which he gladly
accepted and carried, through love of Christ and of
them. All this he tersely enumerates in the previous
chapter. And then he passes, in the beginning of the
present (xii.) chapter, to state facts of another order,
in relation to himself. " I will come to visions and
revelations of the Lord,'' he says : " I knew a man in
Christ, about fourteen years ago, (whether in the body
I cannot tell, or whether out of the body I cannot tell ;
God knoweth,) such an one caught up to the third
heaven. And I knew such a man (whether in the body,
or out of the body I cannot tell ; God knoweth,) how
that he was caught up into paradise, and heard unspeak-
able words, which it is not lawful for a man to
utter ; of such an one will I glory, yet of myself I will
not glory, but in mine infirmities. For though I would
desire to glory, I shall not be a fool ; for I will say the
truth : but now I forbear, lest any man should think
of me abe^Ke that which he seeth me to be, or that he
heareth of me." Here we are led to see the special

VISIBLE CHARACTER, THE CHRISTIAN MARK. 837

point to which the apostle refers in his forbearing. As
a ground of glorying and of claim to their regard, he
might urge the " visions and revelations of the Lord,"
with which he had been favored, but he forbears ; — and
this, for a very notable and instructive reason, which
we shall presently refer to more at large.

Meantime, we must note the fact of these visions
and revelations. They point to intimate and imme-
diate spiritual communications,— openings, so to speak,
into the higher sphere of God's thought and presence,
so bright and overpowering as to cast into the shade,
for the time being, all consciousness connected with
the lower sphere of bodily existence. A man in the
body or out of the body, he cannot tell. So the
apostle speaks of himself. Of such an one in the
third heaven of spiritual vision and contemplation,
he will glory, but of himself as in the body he will
not glory, but in his infirmities. Such is the apostle's
meaning here. In the expressions just cited, he
speaks in a figure borrowed from Jewish modes of
conception. According to the Jewish idea, there were
various heavens. — 1. The aerial heavens, or region of
the atmosphere and clouds : 2. The sidereal heavens,
or region of the stars : and 3. heaven proper, or the
abode of God and his angels. To be caught up into
the third heaven, and hear unspeakable words, is to
be brought into the near presence cf God, and to be
made the subject of spiritual impressions, transcendent
and unutterable. Except in the way of figure we can-
not localize heaven. The presence of God evermore and

338 • . SERMON XXI.

everywhere makes a heaven for the soul who seeks and
sees and enjoys it. Said Jesus, speaking in bodily pre-
sence on earth : " No man hath ascended up to heaven
but he that came down from heaven, even the Son of
Man which is m heaven." Thus did our Lord speak of
himself as in heaven, even while he was visibly present
in the body upon earth. This shows us that heaven is not
to be properly understood as any particular place in
the universe, but rather as the state of the soul — a spir-
itual state, wherein and whereby the divine presence
and light is more nearly, and more clearly seen and
enjoyed.

Any philosophy, or way of conceiving of things^
which throws doubt or denial on the spiritual contact
of God with man, is fatal to spiritual life and growth.
For such a way of thinking involves a partial dethrone-
ment of the universal God. A God partially set aside —
thrust out of place and apart from any given domain
of being, as an impossibility or improbabihty, wanes
in influence and is likely to fall into neglect. Such a
way of thinking accelerates the natural tendency of
man in this direction of neglecting and forgetting
God. And this is only saying, in another form, that it
throws upon his spirit the dark and disastrous shadow
of spiritual death. The proper life for us all is only
to be found in the living thought of a living God, never
far from any of us, but always near, whose offspring
we are, and who still stands to us in the close relation
of Father and friend and helper. The enthroned per-
fection of eyerj conceivable excellence, he reigns not

VISIBLE CHARACTER, THE CHRISTIAN MARK. 339

as a distant sovereign, but as a God always near, sur-
rounding us by a thousand influences to win us to a closer
recognition of himself, and a more intimate communion
with his unbounded love. This planet on which we
dwell, with its daily dome of liquid blue expanse, and
its nightly sky lit with the clustered stars — with its
ever-changing seasons and the varied wealth of good-
ness which they bring ; its institutions of civilization
which we possess and enjoy, and all the privileges,
social, civil and religious, which these carry and con-
vey to us for our use and benefit ; — all these will be
regarded by the devout and appreciative spirit as so
many tokens of the heavenly Father's care for us, his
earthly children. All these will be taken as so many
instrumentalities, in and by which he would stir up
irratitude and love toward himself in our human hearts.
After such manner does God testify concerning him-
self, his presence and providence in the outward
universe and in the events of history. We cannot
. shut him out from any department of the universe,
least of all from that which is most inward to man — I
mean man's spiritual bemg. His presence and influ-
ence here have been frequently and signally revealed.
Prophetic souls have rejoiced therein, and been
strengthened thereby, and their utterances have rung
in mortal ears as very strains from heaven, so sweet
and tender in love and pity, so clear in calling to rec-
titude, so strong and awful in warning and rebuke.
In and through Christ, he invites the still closer
approach of man in filial trust. The gift of Christ

340 • SERMON XXI.

to the 'world is the Father's assurance to us and
to all men, that -with him he will freely give us all things
needful to the spiritual life. God's love is not partial,
nor is his sovereign rule arbitrary, in his dealing with
meo. His love is universal. His rule is a rule of
mex-ciful justice. Never in any age of the world does
he shut himself off from contact with his children. He
is still within their reach. He invites their approach,
and will reveal himself to the sincere and seeking
spirit for help and guidance in the spiritual hfe.

From this assurance springs our hope. Wanting it,
I see not that we could have any. Except at our peril,
then, we cannot deny the spiritual contact of God with
man. The holy spirit is still our helper, enlightening
and sanctifying our spirits, and hfting every sincere
and seeking soul to the higher heaven of divine vision
and devout contemplation. How the spiritual influ-
ence comes and goes — the mode of its motion and
operation — ^we cannot well define in words. Like the
wind it "bloweth where it listeth," as Jesus said,
imparting light to the darkened soul, peace to the
troubled, strength to the feeble, and victory to the
faithful. From its very nature this doctrine is liable
to misapprehension, and opens a way to mistaken claims.
It belongs to a region which stretches beyond range
of sensible proof. In dealing with claims of this kind,
therefore — claims to spiritual enlightenment and influ-
ence, it behoves us to consider them cautiously. And
eveij when we feel sure of them, so far as we ourselves
are- the subjects, it becomes us to be modest in the

VISIBLE CHARACTER, THE CHRISTIAN MARK. 841

assertion thereof. If others assert such claims on their
own behalf, we are in nowise bound either to admit
them or deny them. No man is authorized to demand
from others respect for such claims, except in so far as
he can support them by outward and sensible evidence.
Of late years, as we all know, the public of America
and Europe have had remarkable claims to spiritual
illumination presented to them by large classes of per-
sons. All who have given any attention to passing
events know how extraordinary the assertions in this
respect have been. Other and transmundane spheres
have been explored, and reported upon, with as much
confidence as we should speak of the visible affairs of
daily Ufe. Because I myself cannot make such explo-
ration and offer such report, — this is no sufficient
reason for denying the claim of another to this power.
But it is sufficient justification for withholding my belief
in it, until he can satisfy me with evidence which I can
appreciate. In such a case I am willing to remain in
suspense ; the balance inclining more and more to
denial, the longer such evidence delays its appearance.
Then, as to the more common claim of spiritual illumi-
nation and aid in seeking and finding of truth in mat-
ters theological, such aid, so far as I have been the
subject of it, may be quite clear to myself. But, in
communicating with others, unless I can commend my
claim thereto by something beyond my mere assertion,
I have no right to expect that it shall be regarded.
For, certainly, I could not admit such a claim on the
part of another, on the ground of his mere assertion

342 SERMON XXI.

of it. I must have some evidence which commends
itself to mj mind. And %Yhere such a claim is
made on the strength of mere assertion, it shows an
ignorance of the first principles both of reason and
religion. Such assertion, when made as the ground of
glorying or superiority, is the evidence of spiritual
vanity and pride, rather than of true and edifying
religion.

It becomes us, then, to forbear therefrom — to for-
bear, as the apostle Paul did. " Visions and revela-
tions from the Lord" we may have — rapt and ecstatic
states of mind, which disclose to us the heaven of God's
nearer presence to the soul — sweet and strengthening
hours of devout meditation and prayer, when the spirit
of man is fortified afresh against the power of evil?
and borne heavenward in aspiration ; but of these it
becomes us not to speak in the way of mere assertion,
as ground of boasting or superiority. Nor is it fit that
we shoVdd give such assertion any respect, when made
by others. If my neighbor tells me that he has " ex-
perienced religion," as the technical phrase states it,
then, I say, have joy in your inward experience, my
friend, but let us see how it affects your actual fife in
the world. This is the apostolic test — the test to
which the great Paul himself, in the height of his
spiritual wisdom, submitted. He was favored with
'^ visions and revelations," which he might have set
forth and enlarged upon, as ground of superiority over
others, but he forbore — he forbore for this sound and
instructive reason, viz : " lest any man should think of

VISIBLE CHARACTER, THE CHRISTIAN MARK. 343

him above that which he saw him to be.'' " But I for-
bear," he says, " lest any man should think of me
above that which he seeth me to be, or that he heareth
of me."

From whatever point we approach the matter, we
find that the last test of true rehgion is to be found in
its manifestation in character and life. " By their
fruits ye shall know them," said Jesus. This is the
Christian mark. All divinely inspired prophets and
apostles speak in the same strain. Outward ritualism
and inward experiences — each and all are good in their
way, and serviceable for their purposes ; but without
visible result:, on character, they are ruled out of account
as nothing. Circumcision is nothing, uncircumcision is
nothing. The keeping of the commandments of God is the
chief thing. This is the living law of the living God, which
remains in force under every outward ceremonial,
throughout every fluctuation of inward experience, and
in connection with every dispensation of religion. If
the word revealed within, is as the candle of the Lord
shining there — which it is — ^lighting up truth, justice,
and love, clearly to our apprehension, it must be borne
in mind that such light has not been given for private
and selfish use. If this be forgotten, the light within
becomes darkness. For such light divine can live and
burn only in the open and free air of faithful use, whereby
it is made to shine all around as a light to guide others.
Such is the nature of the true rehgion, as manifested
in the person and life of the Lord Jesus Christ.
It is diffusive, and its spirit is mutually helpful through-

344 . SERMON XXI.

out. The ambition which seeks the regard of others
beyond that "which its actual merits justify, is the
sure token of spiritual poverty and vanity. The
humility of genuine faith and love waits in cheerful
patience until the fruits of character npen, and win
admiration by their visible worth and excellence. For
such faith depends not on human admiration as a
stimulus to its working power, but rests in reliance
on God ; being quickened by a deeper and more satis-
fying approval than man's approval.

" I forbear," says the great apostle, " lest any man
should think of me above that which he seeth me to
be." And so let every man forbear — forbear from
boastful reference to his superior illumination, and
cherish that wholesome fear put on record in the text —
the fear that he should be judged worthy beyond the
measure which his actual life testifies. If his vision
be indeed a clear sight into the heavens of truth, jus-
tice, and love; let him put such heavenly vision to
instant and constant use, by embodying all these into
the form and character of an earthly hfe. For to this
end was such vision given, — that its light should shine
by its good works, and God our heavenly Father be
glorified in the lives of his faithful children.

SERMON XXII.

MAN'S RELATION TO GOD'S RULE.

" I know, O Lord, that thy judgments are right; and that thou in faith*
fulness hast afflicted me."— Ps. cxix. 75.

Every man's religion takes coloring and character
from his conceptions of God. Hence the value and
importance of those discussions concerning the divine
nature in which we find ourselves sometimes engaged.
It is easy to say, " of what avail is this or that contro-
versy on abstract topics in theology,'' and it is easy
for the sluggish or superficial mind to acquiesce in
their inutihty. But when we look more closely to the
matter, we can hardly fail to see that the service which
the soul is constrained to render to its God, will and
must depend on the nature and character of the God
whom it is called to serve. History illustrates this,
and our daily observation confirms it. Any doctrine
which confuses or obscures the personality of God by
perplexing definitions, or which presents him to the
mind as a being of conflicting attributes or chanceful

346 - SERMOx xxir.

purposes, weakens trust in him, and throws man back
upon himself to drift through hfe apart from the ever-
lasting anchor. I do not say that we can always read
this connection of cause and consequence, as if it were
so written on the surface that we had only to see what
particular church-creed a man subscribed to, in order
to pronounce upon the kind of faith which fills and
strengthens his heart. For the truth is, that in creed
making, words are commonly used as counters, to
which no fixed value is attached, but to which every
one may attach his own value, if he will only accept
them and save appearances. We can gain nothing by
complexity in our ways of believing, but may lose"
much. Complex creeds, which aim at precision by
multiplying definitions, may entertain the intellect by
putting it through a process of gymnastics, but they
bring no direct satisfaction to the heart. The heart
finds rest and strength in the simplicity of its believ-
ing. It does not strain after definitions, nor insist on
them. It finds its rest in faith. It finds its strength
in trust. With it, faith and trust are one — one and
the same thing.

When we say that '' God is one," and that " God
is love," we do but follow holy Scripture in its sim-
plest utterances, which are also its grandest and most
pregnant utterances. The simple unity of the one
supreme Being whose name is love, whose word is per-
fect hglit — the light of holiness, the light of truth, the
light of justice ; whose ways show love and holiness,
truth and righteousness, put to use, that man may see

man's relation to god's rule. 347

them and rejoice in them, and prove them in his own
experience ; vrhose rule, again, is a manifestation of
wisdom and power ; and whose highest revelation of
himself in Christ, was to give fresh emphasis to his cha-
racter as a Father — the Father of Hghts without va-
riableness or shadow of turning ; — the simple unity of
this one supreme, perfect, paternal God, without va-
riableness or change, ruling the world of men out of
the motions of his own infinite wisdom and infinite love,
never at conflict with himself or in himself, but ever
working harmoniously with the perfect and changeless
laws of his own nature : — this is the anchor sure and
steadfast, to which the soul of man can cling ; the rock
fixed and strong on w^hich the soul of man can rest.
Clinging to this anchor the storms of fife may blow and
the angry waves overwhelm us, but we ride the storm
in safety, and rise above the waves. Besting on this
rock, the earth may heave around us and the bolts of
desolation strike us, but out of the tumult we can cry,
" I know, Lord, that thy judgments are right, and
that thou in faithfulness hast afilicted me."

This is the sublimity of religious faith, when it
brings the finite and struggling spirit of ma i to this
condition of perfect confidence and rest. It is the
high attainment of the true and saintly soul. It spoke
through the Hebrew psalmist in our text : — ''I know,
Lord, that thy judgments are right." This is the
utterance of a sure faith, a faith which has all the cer-
tainty of knowle dge . And elsewhere , throughout these
grand psalms of the Bible, we meet it oftentimes, as

348 . SERMON XXII.

when he writes : " Though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou
art with me." His felt conviction of the divine pres-
ence and the divine love inspired him with courage,
and cheered him with light in the darkest day of his
earthly experience. It spoke through the Christian
apostle, as when he quotes from the Hebrew Scrip-
tures to remind the Hebrew converts of the exhorta-
tion which appealed to them as unto children : " My
son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor
faint when thou art rebuked of him .... If ye endure
chastening, God dealeth w^ith you as with sons."
C^Hel), xii. 5, 7.) Here he affirms that it is through
such trying experience that we are brought into closer
filial relation with God, as the final rest of the soul.

And this position commends itself at once to the
highest and clearest reason, and to the deepest affec-
tions of man. It is through faith in the perfect and
paternal God that the wearied spirit of man finds rest.
Until this faith comes, all is agitation, unrest, vexation.
Until this faith comes, man stands in a false relation
to all around him. For until this comes, he stands in
the strength of a weak and finite nature, struggling
with circumstances which no power of his own can
ever enable him to overcome. Events come to him
in quick succession, elating him and depressing him
by turns, making him at once their slave and their
sport. Vainly does he put forth his own strength to
control them in their final results. The issue which
he most dreaded falls ruthlessly upon him, notwith-

^mmtmmmmmmgmmmmmmmmmtmm

man's relation to god^s rule. 349

standing all his efforts to avert it. His foresight be-
comes as blindness, his "wisdom as folly, his strength
as weakness, his activity more disastrous to him than
his inactivity. Never, until he comes to feel and con-
fess that the issues are in other hands, and that his
part is subordinate, can he find the true satisfaction of
his nature. Then, when this comes to pass, when the
absolute sovereignty of the perfect God is felt and
acknowledged, his relation to the world of things is
changed, and he exercises his powers under new con-
ditions. He no longer assumes to be lord paramount
of his lot, but finds his highest aspiration satisfied in
loyalty of service and wilHng submission to the one
Lord supreme. King of kings and Lord of lords, in
whose absolute sovereignty and perfect nature he has
an absolute and perfect trust. His best reason is
satisfied that since God is an absolutely perfect God,
he is to be relied on without halting or faltering on
the part of man. His deepest affections are satisfied
in the conviction that the perfection of this sovereign
God displays a perfect love, and reveals him as a
Father most careful and most merciful toward every
child of man. His reason satisfied, his affections
satisfied, he rests in peace. Whatever may befal him,
whatever judgments come or afflictions strike, he knows
that they are right, and that in faithfulness they have
been sent.

We must not forget that this view of man's relation
to God's rule opens a door to human sophistry in the
interest of human indolence. For since all is thus

350 . SERMON XXII.

controller! bj an absolute sovereign God, who con-
stantly rules out of pure love to his creatures ; and
since man, do what he will, can never command final
issues, but is bound to submit to any issue that comes,
in the conviction that it is the best that could come ;
since this is so, then man's part is quiescence. This
argument is without force except to those who wish it
to have force. If we wish to set up an excuse for
our indolence, then it will stand for an excuse. But
it is superficial and sophistical, coming from a partial
view of the case, and designed to meet a desire, aside
from the simple love of truth. Man's part in the uni-
verse is never quiescence, when quiescence ministers
to his indolence. Man is called to activity in every
step and stage of his being. Every endowment of his
nature points to a use as its end, to a function to be
fulfilled. God has his sphere of rule, which is abso-
lute and universal. Man has his sphere of activity,
which is relative and partial. Herein man is bound
to put forth his activities, subject always to a higher
control, the relative to the absolute, the partial to the
universal. Every individual man is an instrument in
God's hands, and the use to which the instrument is
to be put is indicated by the character of the gifts
bestowed on the man, and the sphere of activity in
which he is placed. Herein he is called to work and
to work diligently, according to his highest light and
his purest love. Failing here he fails in duty to God.
He is then the " wicked servant," because he is the
indolent and negligent servant. Man's highest life

man's relation to god's rule. S51

must come from the faithful use of the talents bestowed.
Herein and hereby he puts himself in the line of the
divine order. Herein and hereby he becomes a co-
worker with God, and his march is toward the pro-
mised land. His way may lie through the wilderness,
where peril and trial abound, but still the unseen God
is his guide. The horizon may limit his vision, but
faith pierces where sight fails. In faith he works,
. wilhng still to accept such results as God may order,
bearing in mind that God is greater than he, and
greatest of all. It is only when man thus works within
his own sphere, and out of his highest light and purest
love, that he can safely, and without sin, say that he
leaves results to God. God does not rule in his wis-
dom that man's folly may find rest in idleness.

" I know, Lord, that thy judgments are right."
This is the utterance of a devout soul, faithful and active
within its own sphere. What a contrast in spirit it
presents to that of the lives which so many live ! How
many men and women pass their days in an unconscious
protest against the divine providence. With words of
formal piety, it may be, on their lips, they give the lie
to all such words by the chronic discontent of their
lives. Everything to them is a bar, a hindrance, a
stone of stumbling, a rock of oJQfence. The persons
they meet with in daily intercourse, their position in
relation to others, a thousand circumstances in their lot,
ev3n to the changing atmosphere from day to day —
all act as daily irritants to their nature. Such persons
assume their right of eminent domain in the universe,

352 . SERMON XXII.

and that all other people should be trained according
to their pattern and have all deference to their wishes,
and that clouds and sunshine should appear in the sky
in the order most agreeable to them. Nor can cure
come to this direful malady of spirit, until the thought
of God's sovereign rule becomes a fixed conviction in
the soul and a ground principle of life. This kills that
selfishness which, by magnifying our individual impor
tance beyond all proper proportions, becomes the pro-
lific root of discontent. The living conviction of God's
sovereign rule adjusts us in our rightful place in the
universe as part of a great whole, whose highest inter-
ests are served by the self-forgetting fidelity of each of
its many members. Then comes the joy of content.
Then do we regard outward circumstances and events
in their proper aspect. The wrong before seen in them
is now seen to be not in them, but in ourselves — in the
wayward temper in which we before regarded them.
When our w^aywardness is subdued to reverence in
presence of the supreme sovereignty ; and our selfish-
ness crucified in presence of the sovereign love ; then
do we rest in calm content on God, honoring his wis-
dom as greater than ours — making his wisdom our
own.

Who can avoid the trial of hard events in exper-
ience ? None of us. Nor should we desire to avoid
them wholly. For they have a high purpose to serve
in relation to man. When God strikes the afflictive
blow, it is not wilfully, nor willingly, as if he found
joy in man's woe, but for an end wise and beneficent —

man's relation to god's rule. 353

in harmony Tvith his OTm character and the high pur-
poses of his government. Disappointments come to
man and cherished hopes fade. Loss comes — the loss
of health, the loss of property, the loss of friends.
Those nearest to us fall before our eyes— husbands,
wives, children — and, with tearful eyes, we consign their
mortal remains to the dust. What then ? Is hope gone
— following health or wealth in their flight ? Is trust
buried in the tomb ? No, for we know that God reiiin-
eth, always supreme in darkness as in light, in tribula-
tion as in joy. We know that his judgments are right,
and that when afflictions come, they come in faithful-
ness to us. We know that though clouds and darkness
are round about him, justice and mercy are the habi-
tations of his throne.

Four weeks ago to-day* I had occasion to refer
to the bereavement and sorrow which had come to
several households of our worshipping society. Child-
ren had recently been called away, leaving parents be-
hind with aching hearts. And since then, several
other households of our congregation have been called
to suffer in like manner — my own among the number.
For the expressions of sympathy tendered through
your managing committee, and for the manifold acts of
kindness and consideration shown by one and another,
and more than I shall now name, let me here express
the gratitude of my household. The illness which re-
sulted in the removal of a very dear child from our

* Spoken, Sept. 8, 1867.
X

354 SERMON XXII.

eai'thly sight was a lengthened one, and for many weeks
past was felt by her mother and myself to be a hope-
less one, so far as recovery was concerned. Under
the circumstances, we felt your kindness and appre-
ciated your consideration, not only in what was expres-
sed and done, but also in what was unexpressed and
left undone. For we have full confidence in our friends,
and knew that any services in their power were at our
command. We feel, however, that our trial is no ex-
ceptional one, but of a kind which is of daily occur-
rence. And we accept it, I trust, in full submission
to our heavenly Father's will, and in full assurance,
too, of his love even when he strikes the afflictive blow.
Through this personal experience of bereavement, I
shall learn, as experience only can teach, to enter more
fully by sympathy into the bereavements and trials of
others ; for daily observation shows us that to this lot,
in some form, are we all born.

A very noticeable fact in the ministry of our Lord
Jesus Christ, is his recognition of the trials of the
human lot. One of his earliest utterances was a bles-
sing on the mourners and a promise of comfort. He
was himself a man of sorrows and acquainted with
grief. Thus, through personal experience of trial,
entering into direct sympathy with humanity in its
sorrows. Never is Christ nearer to any of us than
when weary and heavy laden with a burden of care
or sorrow. His call is, " Come unto me, — come unto
me ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give
you rest." The light of the saintly life is seen in

man's relation to god's rule.

ex" r

Jesus. And thus he becomes to all who follow him
in faith (which is trust), at once a sure guidance and
a sure comfort. For he leads us to God, his Father
and our Father, and invites us to lay down the burden
of our care or woe at the footstool of the throne of
Sovereign Love. Viewed in the light which Christ
has thrown upon it, religion, or the true service of God,
is no longer an abstract or inapprehensible thing, but
a most clear and intelligible matter, embodied in the
person of the Lord Jesus, radiant in his every look,
word, and deed. Thus he becomes to man the highest
revelation of the rehgion which God requires. And
when the most trying crisis of his life was upon him —
when the cross was in view, and the agony of his soul
was at its height ; while he prayed out of his anguish
that, if possible, the cup might pass from him ; yet did
he, out of his living trust in God, nevertheless say, ' Not
my will, Father, but thine be done.' This is Christ's
testimony to the great and consolatory truth set forth
in our text : that whatever comes to pass in the divine
order of events is right ; that even when affliction strikes,
the stroke comes in faithfulness to us. For God rules
in and over all affairs and events, and his is the rule
of infinite wisdom, infinite justice, and infinite love.

SERMON XXIII.

TRIBULATION.

*' These things have I spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace.
In the world ye shall have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have over-
come the world."— JoAn xvi. 33.

Our Lord came to save us, not so mucli by teaching
us how to die, as some would have us believe, as by
teaching us how to live. He who lives well can die
well. This is the teaching of reason, and of Christian-
ity, which is the perfection of reason. I would say
nothing here, however, which would even seem to
place limitation on the mercy of God. Nor do I pre-
sume to say what he may or may not do at the eleventh
hour of any earthly pilgrimage. In the scriptures we
are told of one man who was just lifted to the joy of a
higher light, and inspired with a heavenly hope in the
closing hour of his mortal life. This shows us that
such a thing is possible, though the whole tenor of the
gospel goes to caution us against a rehance on a late
mercy. It offers a present mercy and urges a present

TRIBULATION.

357

acceptance. And it may be, most likely it was so, that
the expiring criminal on the cross beside the Savior,
had only had, at that late hour, the first opportunity
of hearing his teaching. In such a case, it was the
first offer of a present mercy, and it had a present ac
ceptance.

Yes, Christ came to teach us how to hve — how to
live that we may not know what death is — how to live
that the proper purpose of our earthly life may be ful
filled. He came to open up a life without end — an
eternal life, carrying in itself a seed of joy which knows
no destruction. He showed us God in his holiness
and glory, in his justice and mercy ; and made known
the saving way through which we might become recon-
ciled, and spiritually united to him. He opened
heaven to the believing soul, and led it to the blessed-
ness thereof, even while it dwelt in the flesh and on the
earth. This was the grand purpose of the Lord's
coming — to shed a fresh and divine light upon life, to
invest it with a higher meaning than it possessed before,
to clothe it with a moral and spiritual significance,
before which everything else and less worthy should
fade away into nothing.

The life which Jesus magnified was not a hfe of ease
or mere enjoyment, still less was it one of loose and
sensual pleasure. This latter, indeed, is a statement
which need hardly have been made. A life of loose
and sensual pleasure carries its condemnation on its
own front. But it is hardly so with a life of ease and
enjoyment. This does not appear to carry any such

858

SEKMON XXII.

condemnation along with it. What else should we live
for V is the thought which lies in thousands of hearts
to-day. What in the world is better than ease ? What
more worthy than enjoyment ? Yes, tens of thousands
toil in our day with these thoughts uppermost. They
are content to toil in the present that they may enjoy
ease in the future, and they hav e scarcely any loftier
conception of life than as a prosperous career. Adver-
sity seems to them the breaking down, or failure of
life. Disappointment and trouble appear to their eyes
unmitigated calamities.

But Christ taught differently. He saw farther into
the moral purpose of life, and knew that an immortal
soul was made for something nobler than the mere en-
joyment of ease. He scanned the deep places of man's
nature, and knew that the higher spiritual birth sprang
from the pangs of conflict, and was to exist subject to
tribulation and struggle in the w^orld. For he recog-
nised duty. He lived for it himself and called on all
his followers to live for it likewise. But the way of
duty is rarely the way of ease. The world is not a
field of velvet grass shaded and sheltered from the
searcliing storms of circumstance. No, verily. It is a
rough and stony highway to the faithful pilgrim, wherein
oftimes he has to toil through exposed and solitary
passes, searched by the w^inds and scathed by the tem-
pest. There can be no virtue where there is no strug-
gle, as there can be no victory where there is no foe.
Neither man nor thing knoweth its strength until it
is tried. Both are destined to grow stronger through

TRIBULATION'. 359

the trial. The muscle of the limb gathers power
through the difficulties against which it has to contend.
The root of the pine tree becomes all the more firmly
fixed, through the pressure of the storm which bears
so fiercely against it on the mountain side. A man, as
he journeys through life, may seek the covert that he
may escape the tempest, and under shelter thereof he
may dispose himself to ignoble ease. Such hiding-
places, however, are still within the wide-spread realm
of God, and are searched through and through by the
penetrating power of his retributive laws. For in
these coverts of ignoble ease, where so many men skulk
away in order to evade the open and trying path of
duty, there arises a thick and smothering atmosphere,
where all high aspirations of the soul are gradually
stifled, and all that is noble in humanity is wilted clean
away. Such is the price which they pay for their
ease. Such the penalty they have to render for their
dull worldly content.

Jesus said to his immediate disciples, that in the
world they should have tribulation, but in him they
might have peace. The saying is for us. as well as for
them. As he spoke to them the affecting words of our
text, a heavy blow to their affections and their hopes
was just impending. He, the Master, the centre of
hope and affection, was about to be taken away. They
had joined him, not thinking that such was to be the
result. They had joined him, believing that he was the
very Messiah which their nation had so long looked
for, and by whom that nation was to be led to a new

360 . SERMON XXIII.

and more exalted earthly eminence. The heavenly
bearing and tenor of his intercourse with them had
won their hearts, so that his mere separation from them
became the greatest of griefs. That separation, how-
ever, was to take place. It was expedient that he
should go away. As sheep without a shepherd — scat-
tered, and without outward guide, were they to be left
in the world. Persecution awaited them and tribula-
tion. Of worldly ease or outward rest they were to
know little or nothing. Through such training were
they to be led onward. Through such discipline were
they to be led upward. Disappointment and sorrow
met them on the very threshold of their way, and
through the pressure thereof were they to rise to the
life divine.

Mark the meaning of this fine old Bible word " tribu-
lation." It has been well said that a single word is often
a concentrated poem. The one before us is strikingly
significant. The simplest of us know that our English
tongue is extensively derived from the Latin. Now the
Latin term for a threshing instrument is tribulum. It
was with the tribulum that the old Roman husbandman
threshed his corn to separate the grain from the husks,
and the operation itself, by which the separation was
made, was styled tribulatio. This was the first mean-
ing of the word, the separation of the wheat from the
chaff. But in Christian times it was soon borrowed
from the physical sphere, and fitly and figuratively
applied in the sphere of morals. Hence our English
word tribulation, literally a thrashing or bruising pro-

TRIBULATIOX. 361

cess, through -which that which is valuahle is separated
from that which is useless or hurtful. This is the
divinely ordained method, through which man is lifted
up, and his higher gifts and holier affections brought
out and made perfect. Jesus declared that such tri-
bulation, or bruising, should come to his chosen ones,
and experience has amply confirmed his declaration ;
and confirmed, moreover, the exalted purpose for which
it comes. The husks of selfishness and sin are cast
away thereby, and the pure grain of love and trust left
as food and strength for the soul. An early English
poet has written :

" Till from the straw, the flail the corn doth beat,
Until the chaff be purged from the wheat,
Yea, till the mill the grains in pieces tear,
The richness of the flour will scarce appear.
So, till men's persons great afflictions touch,
If worth be found, their worth is not so much,
Because, like wheat in straw, they have not yet
That value which in thrashing they may get." *

Tribulation, then, means the various afflictions of life
through which we are bruised, and our better nature
separated from the husks and chaff of sense and world-
liness. " We must through much tribulation enter the
kingdom of God." (Acts xiv. 22.) Such was the teach-
ing of the first apostles. Paul could write to the Cor-
inthians that he was " exceeding joyful in all his
tribulations." (2 Oor, vii. 4.) And to the Romans he

* Quoted by Trench in " Study of Words."

362

SERMON XXIII.

could write, that he gloried in tribulation, knowing that
it worked patience, and patience, experience, and ex-
perience, hope — a hope which did not make ashamed ;
because grounded in the love of God. QBom. v. 3-5.)
" In the world ye shall have tribulation.'' These
words, I have said, are for us, as well as for the first
disciples of the Lord. Do we seek to evade the disci-
pline, and look upon a life of ease, or a career of un-
broken prosperity, as a more excellent way ? If so,
I marvel not, for man does not naturally go forward
with ready will to meet pain, and taste of the cup of
sorrow. But if he is wise he will learn by observation
and experience. It has been well said that ^' an unin-
terrupted flow of worldly prosperity, even if amiably
enjoyed, and unstained with vice, weakens and dissolves
those higher faculties of the soul which converse with
things eternal and unseen — makes us too keenly sen-
sitive to the immediate sources of our personal enjoy-
ment and distinction — absorbs the ideal into the actual
— and at last, perhaps, from sheer failure of any ade-
quate excitement, lets down the soul into a stagnant
depth of weariness and apathy." * The facts of human
life, as commonly observed, amply justify this remark.
Amiability and freedom from vice there may be in
connection with an unbroken career of ease and pros-
perity, but connected therewith, also, is generally found
weakness and depreciation of character. A man ac-
quiescing in wrong, and accommodating his convictions

* Rev. J. J. Tayler.

TRIBULATION. 363

to circumstances, merely for the sake of quiet, is one
of the saddest spectacles which a clear moral vision
can behold. I have already spoken of the penalty that
is paid for this kind of ease. Not, however, until the
vision is somewhat cleared, can we discern the extent
and nature of this penalty. In the sphere of the per-
sonal affections, likewise, we may readily become weak,
through an enjoyment long unbroken. Where no be-
reavement or sorrow has come, the soul is prone to
wax heedless of the realities which lie beyond this
world of time and sense. It is prone to fix on this
world as the place of its chief joy.

Man does not naturally welcome tribulation, but
experience may teach him that it is the most blessed
of visitors. Experience will teach him so, if he bow
his soul devoutly when the inevitable guest comes, and
strive not passionately against it. None pass through
life without some affliction, and all may partake of the
blessinpr which it brin2;s. To the Christian heart sor-
row always carries its own compensation. It puts us
through a process whereby the permanent is clearly
distinguished from the perishable, and forcibly com-
mended to us as an object of abiding reliance. Hea-
venly realities rise before pur view, as the realities of
earth are seen to fade awav. Manifold are the forms
which our human sorrow takes, but every form may
become a minister to the same grand purpose of exalt-
ing the soul. Yes, manifold, indeed, are the forms of
human sorrow ; and some of them of a kind which the
multitude may not readily understand. Behold a man

364 . SERMON xxiir.

toiling alone, or almost alone — with but scanty sym-
pathy — on behalf of some great idea. The vast con-
course of human life rushes on in rude and heedless
haste, deifying an outward prosperity, and so thor-
oughly possessed by the low actual life which they live,
that they do not pause to give ear to any nobler ideal.
Or, if they do pause, it is to turn away incredulous or
scoffing. With the awful realities of actual life present
to his eye, and pressing on his soul, and the tones of
pure truth and pure justice still sounding in his ears,
a sorrow, deep and fixed, springs up within him. It is
thus with the great prophets and leaders of our race.
We may read in their countenance the deep, sad
earnestness of their soul. They are slighted and des-
pised, scoffed and stoned in their day, but the word
they utter becomes the seed of a higher life to the
generations that follow after. A sorrow like this brings
its own compensation in peace of conscience and peace
with God. To conscience and to God the soul has
been faithful, scorning to acquiesce in prevalent wrong
for the sake of personal quiet, or accommodate itself to
actual circumstances for the sake of popular favor.
The joy of freedom from such moral degradation and
spiritual darkness, is felt to be a satisfaction far trans-
cending any that can spring from the companionship,
or even the laudation of the thoughtless multitude.

Again ; we see a man checked in the midst of an
outwardly prosperous career. His life was flowing as
a golden tide, bearing along wealth from every shore.
His heart was elate at the prospect, and in the garner

TRIBULATION. 365

irhere he stored his riches he went on gradually to fix
his life and joy. But the golden tide is stopped in its
flow, and in its ehbing it carries all away. His ideas
of life and joy are hereby rudely shaken and over-
thrown ; and when the first pressure of adversity and
distress subsides, he opens his eyes to see how needful
it is to seek some more stable foundations whereon the
soul shall rest. Some thought of God, half dormant,
or whole dormant, is by degrees awakened ; and, when
devoutly contemplated, the heavens open, revealing
the blessed realities which defy the accidents of time.
At such a season, the words of the Savior concern-
ing the treasure on earth and the treasure in heaven,
shine with fresh and precious meaning. The radical
difference between the two kinds of treasure is seen
and felt. The ebbing of the golden tide is used as a
power to raise the soul to heaven.

Again ; we seen the messenger of death come to
the dearest object of human affection, to husband and
wife, parent and child, sister, brother, and friend.
Hopes more than can be named, and a love deeper
than can be uttered, were bound up in that earthly
life. But the hopes, so far as they had reference to
earth, are scattered to the winds, and vanish. And
the love so deep and unuttered, now lives to feed the
springs of the heart's flowing grief. But shall it live
for this purpose only, now and always ? Was the love
linked to the outward form which now hes pallid, and
ready to mingle with the dust of ground ? I answer,
No, to both these questions. Love will not always Hve

366 - SERMON XXIII.

to feed grief, for it was not to the outward form that
it was chiefly linked. The shock given to our human
sensibilities bj the visitation of death, moves the veil
which separates the present world from the future,
and we find that our love was fixed upon the spirit
that has departed, not upon the form which is left be-
hind. In our longing gaze "fter the object of affec-
tion, then, we are carried into the world of spirits.
And the more faithful we are to our love, the more
thoroughly will we realize the existence of that world.
Such is the compensation which this sorrow brings.
The beloved dead yet speak to us, and their call upon
us ever is to " come up higher."

I know that deeper and more poignant griefs than
these may enter and lacerate the human soul. I
know there are minds that say in all truth and sincer-
ity — it is not the loss of outward fortune, or the de-
parture of earthly life, that we chiefly deplore for our-
selves or for others. We grieve first and chiefly for
the fall of some soul from its purity and virtue, and
for the dark pall of sin which clouded its departure.
Here is the mystery which perplexes us, and threatens
us with despair. My answer here is, that rehef and
light must come, not from philosophy, but from reli-
gion. Vamly, and to no purpose, do we reason to
clear up the mysteries of the universe. Our human
reason, noble as the attribute is, is but finite, and its
light is limited. Like the lamp which we take in our
hand, it illuminates within a given range, but no
farther. Regions He far away beyond this range-^

TRIBULATION. 367

regions which only the grander lights set up by God
can illuminate. Troubled and perplexed by the dark
questions and apprehensions started by the existence
of evil and working of sin, we may find peace in
Christ, in the simple filial trust which his rehgion en-
joins, and with wliich it inspires the beUeving soul.

" These things have I spoken unto you," said Jesus,
" that in me ye might have peace." There was but
little of what we call reasoning in that last discourse
of his, but the appeals to their love and trust were
abundant. He spake of the Father and the Com-
forter ; of the Father who loved them, and of the
Comforter which he should send to minister to their
tried and troubled souls. The doctrine of a paternal
providence, at once elevating and consoling, had its
divinest expression from the lips of Christ. Darkness
and difficulty faded away, adversity and sorrow lost
their worst sting, as the thought of a loving God rose
to mortal eyes, and found a fixed place in human
hearts. Through the leading of Jesus we may rest
in peace in the very bosom of the Father. God wel-
comes every mortal child to his immortal rest. In
the world we shall have tribulation. We were made
for it. The true life is not one of ignoble ease, but of
noble conflict. The Christian soul meets evil and
wrong, adversity and sorrow, in the strength of a
living faith and trust. It is not cast down or dis-
mayed in the strife, but hopeful and of " good cheer."
For it knows that Christ has " overcome the world,"
and it knows, too, that in the strength of Christ it
shall overcome likewise.

SERMON XXIV.

THE CHRISTIAN VIEW OF LIFE AND DEATH.
"To me to live is Christ, and to die is ghin."—Phil. i. 21.

It is the prerogative of Christianity to augment life,
and annihilate death. The measure of life varies as
its kind varies. The plant has a life of its own, in
virtue of which it shoots forth its stem, unfolds its
leaf, and opens its flower. "We can see the work-
ing of this life and watch its wonderful pro-
cesses, in the grass blade, the rose bush, and the
spreading oak. In some it operates more rapidly,
in others less so ; but in all we observe the mani-
festation of a vital force which makes the plant or the
tree the thing that it is, different this month from what
it was last month, different this year from what it was
last year. The life of the plant is one kind of life.
We have another kind in the animal. The beast and
the bird, in their processes of growth and reproduc-
tion, exhibit another order of life, which we at once

THE CHRISTIAN VIEW OF LIFE AND DEATH. 369

see to be different from that of the plant, since it is
not fixed to one spot of earth, and made to depend on
this for nourishment and support of its functions.
The hfe of the animal can change its place, can move
from one part to another of the earth's surface, and is
gifted with instincts towards self-preservation and self-
support. In man we have still another and hio-her
order of life. Superinduced on the animal nature we
have the rational, moral, and religious faculties — facul-
ties which mark man as the chief of earthly bein<i-s.
As the animal has a larger measure of life than the
vegetable, so it is very obvious that man has a far
larger measure than the mere animal. Through the
power of locomotion, and the gift of instinct, the beast
and the bird can spread themselves over a wider ran^-e
of existence and enjoyment than the plant and the
tree. But through the faculties, special to humanity,
man can extend himself infinitely beyond the animal,
and penetrate into 'regions of thought and sentiment
wherein life acquires a significance and value unspeak-
ably more lofty and important.

Thus it is that the measure of life varies, palpably
varies, in the different orders of existence. But the
variety is not confined to these limits. It varies with-
in the bounds of the different orders, and most of all
does it vary in man. Man, from his augmented capa-
cities ; man, from his powers of observing and reflect-
ing, of receiving and enjoying, — opens in his nature
a wider field for diversity, and hence we find in him
more various measures of life. One hour I may be

370 • SERMON XXIV.

in contact witli a man whose range of apprehension
and appreciation spreads but little wider than that
of the animal ; the next hour I may meet a man whose
vision sweeps the heavens and the earth, scanning
the heights of earthly knowledge, and sharing the
bliss of heavenly joy. The one man lives for himself
and the present time. His immediate desires are his
absolute masters, and to be fed and clothed, and enjoy
the pleasures of sense, constitute to him the sum total
of desirable life. The other man has learned to sub-
ordinate the sensual to the spiritual, the temporal to
the eternal, and lives with his eye cast higher and
farther into the lasting verities and realities of the uni-
verse.

Now, Christianity, by the grand revelation which it
makes of the purposes of God ', by its gracious unfold-
in f' of the divine mystery in regard to man ; by the beam-
ing light which it sheds on human duty and human
destiny ; by tlie new significance which, through all this,
it imparts to human life, augments the measure of that
life — it enlarges its scope of living, and enhances its
capacity for enjoying. It quickens new sentiments
in the soul, and opens new regions of being wherein
those sentiments may expatiate and fructify. The in-
flux of gospel light into the soul, its glad reception,
and faithfu^. 'appropriation there, has been styled anew
birth. And certainly a new birth it is ; an introduc-
tion to a higher '^.r^d wider range of existence, where
visions more glorious, and realities more permanent,
break grandly into view. Between the sensual or

THE CHRISTIAN VIEW OF LIFE AND DEATH. 371

animal man in whom the gospel has made no proper
lodgment, and the spiritual man who has gratefully
accepted it, the comparison, so far as regards the
measure of life enjoyed, amounts to a contrast. Even
the full play of the intellectual faculty in the various
departments of human science, although it largely
augments the sphere and enhances the enjoyment of the
individual life, yet falls far short of the range which
is opened to the rehgious apprehension through the
light and leading of the gospel. For there we behold
a God perfect in all his attributes, transcending com-
prehension by reason of the infinitude of his nature,
yet commending himself to our love by his gracious
condescension to our weakness — a God all powerful,
all wise, all good, all loving — whose every perfection
is pledged to man for man's deliverance from evil, and
redemption to eternal joy, if he will only comply with
the terms of the redemption. By the light of the
gospel we behold a destiny awaiting man, beside which
all considerations bounded by this earthly existence
are dwarfed, and through which life is enlarged beyond
all visible limits, aud sent joyfully stretching away
into the illimitable ages of eternity. Caspar Hauser,
shut up in his cellar, feeding from the platter
handed in by his inhuman guardian, never mingling
his voice with his kind, nor beholding the spreading
earth, nor the arching sky, lived a life narrowed to
the smallest possible limit for humanity. When
liberated from his narrow place and brought among
his fellow men, amid the open glories of earth and sky,

372

SERMON XXIV.

how great the addition made to the range of his life
and enjoyment ! But, lacking the gospel, with all of
us it would be only the story of Caspar Hauser on
another scale. Shut up in earth and sense, or even
within the wider limits of human science and common
morality, our existence would be only an imperfect and
disjointed fragment of life. Through the essential
love and power of the gospel, we are lifted out of these
limitations, set in heavenly places, and made capable
of holding converse with the angel and the archangel.
In thus augmenting the range and capacity of life,
Christianity annihilates death. Death to the natural
eye is repellent at every turn. It is the termination
of life, or, at best, an awful step into a dark, uncertain
place. Its accompaniments are all dejecting. The
livid form, inanimate, rigid, and cold with a coldness
all its own ; the darkness of the grave, and the inevit-
able and loathsome decay which takes place there ;
the rending apart of so many ties of affection, and the
snatching away of so many pillars of earthly hope and
promise — these things, as they lie open to the thought,
depress the soul. Hence it has come to pass that
death is commonly symbolized by a fieshless skull, and
separated bones, and by draperies of the darkest black.
Men stand horror-stricken at the thought of death.
Show them that it is stealing quick marches on them,
and that it stands waiting for them to-morrow, or next
week, or next year, and they are appalled. To the
natural eye, life is identified with the limited life of the
body, and when the body falls, life is no more, or, at
best, passes into a sphere of uncertainty.

THE CHRISTIAN VIEW OF LIFE AND DEATH. 373

The assurances of Jesus Christ, and the disclosures
of his religion, lift the veil from the natural eye, and
show that the fall of the fleshly body is but a process of
nature, as the fall of the leaf in autumn is — a process,
not involving the extinction of being, but only a change ;
— and a change, moreover, which widens its bounda-
ries and enhances its capacities. These assurances and
disclosures invest life Avith a new meaninoi; — a meaninor

o o

which does not recognise any termination, still less a
termination made dependent on the strength, or weak-
ness, or multiplied exposures of a fleeting form of flesh.
" Lord, if thou hadst been here," said the weeping
sister of Lazarus, to the divine Master and Friend who
came to that house of mourning, " my brother had not
died." " Thy brother shall rise again," said the Lord.
'' I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at
the last day," rejoined the sorrowing Martha. Then
said Jesus unto her, " I am the resurrection and the
life ; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet
shall he live ; and whosoever liveth and believeth in me
shall never die." Here was the declaration that
death was annihilated to the believing soul. Martha
expected a resurrection at the last day. But the Lord
announced himself all in all — a present resurrection
and eternal life to the soul that has accepted him by
faith. Through this blessed acceptance by faitli, the
seed of eternal life becomes a working force in the soul,
a power which cleanses and purifles it, which redeems
and uplifts it, and fortifies it with a conviction of dura-
tion and of durable life and joy, though all fleshly and
earthly forms perish, and pass utterly away.

€> »

4 ' SERMON XXIV.

The idea and assurance of uninternipted and eter-
nal life Avliich Christianity implants in the soul, gathers
hope and comfort and joy in view of the fall of the
body. For a soul thus fortified, the grave has no
special terrors, because it knows the grave can have
no power over it. The same gracious and uplifting
assurance which takes the sting from death, deprives
the grave of victory, and transfers the victory to
the believing and faithful disciple. For a soul thus
fortified, the separation from friends, which the fall of
the body so peremptorily puts in force, has its worst
pang removed by the blessed hope of a future re-union,
under auspices not clouded by the sorrows and infirmi-
ties of earth. Yea, a soul thus fortified by the Chris-
tian assurance, while it girds itself faithfully for every
present duty, and would hold it treasonable toward
God to murmur at its present lot, can see in the fall
of the body a liberation from the conditions of the flesh,
its wants, its weariness, and its pressing lusts ; and an
entrance on a higher and less embarrassed sphere of
life, a purer and less interrupted domain of joy.

Christ has said, '' In my father's house are many
mansions." This planet on which our lot is now cast, is
but one of these many mansions of the «;reat Father.
Far as human eye can reach, and far farther, roll other
worlds, like unto our own ; and the fairest reason
joins with the noblest imagination of man in peopling
these or some of them with inteUigent beings, bearing
like ourselves a godlike origin, and, hke ourselves,
under the care and rule of the heavenly Father. And

THE CHRISTIAN VIEW OF LIFE AND DEATH. 375

beyond all these, again, and impalpable to sense — out
of the reach of all physical observation* — lie other
spheres, peopled with spiritual hosts serving God under
another set of conditions, rejoicing in his love and his
law. Throughout all these myriads of spheres, phy-
sical and spiritual, God reigns supreme ; his law giving
unity to all, lifting all and leading all into one direc-
tion — towards himself, who is at once the origin and
the end of the universe. It is his life which flows
through all. His messianic message comes to all, the
power whereof is to subdue evil and conquer death in
all its forms. Thus it is that, in every department of
the universe, God reigns and rules as King and Father,
and every loyal and loving soul is, and feels itself to
be, his child — is, and feels itself to be, in brotherly re-
lation with eve. J other and all other loyal and loving
souls in all spheres.

But while thus enlarmn^!; the domain of intellio-ent
existence beyond any limit cognizable by man, the
Christian thought of the future and of other spheres
imparts to our present lot and opportunity a peculiar
sanctity and value. It does not belong to the Chris-
tian faith, in any of its aspects, to withdraw man from
the present, in order to attach him to the future ; nor
to make him heedless of this life, in order to impress
him with the value of the next. The same Christian
view of life, which enlarges its domain in time and
space, and beyond time and space, stamps the present
moment and the present lot of man with the highest use
andmeaning. In the divine order of the universe, the life

376 sjhimon XXIV.

of the soul is continuous and connected in its passage
from sphere to sphere. It is this present moment's
fidelity to duty or neglect of it. which prepares the
soul for peace and upward progress in time to come,
or for unrest and a downward course. As a man sows,
so shall he reap. This is the law of divine providence,
and it is merciful as it is wise. As we use our spring
time, so shall our harvest be. We stand related to
others, and to other interests at every turn. Coinci-
dent with these relations are our obligations. How
are these met and discharged ? In a Christ-like spirit,
and after a Christ-like manner ? If so, then are we
following Christ here in the way which will win his
welcome hereafter. And his welcome means redemp-
tion — eternal rest and joy in God. His welcome means
an entrance into the Father's house of many mansions,
where the broken ties of earthly bereavement will be
made whole, not to be broken again.

It must have been out of the fulness of a Christian
assurance which looks steadfastly into the spiritual
heavens, that the concise but pregnant assertion
of our text was made. " To me to live is Christ," writes
the apostle, " and to die is gain." The sentiments
of the text and context spring legitimately from the
great root of Christian conviction which Paul cherished
as the life of his life. He was in bonds at Rome
when he wrote this letter to the Philippians. For the
sake of the gospel he was a prisoner. He was in the
hands of the heathen, and even among his own Chris-
tians there were vain, wilful, and quarrelsome persons,

THE CHRISTIAN VIEW OF LIFE AND DEATH. 877

who sought to add affliction to his bonds. But his
soul was set to its purpose — consecrated to its one
service — let heathen and Christian do as they may.
The Master shall be magnified — his claims shall be pre-
sented to men, and pressed upon them, to the end that
they may be redeemed. No pressure of circumstances
should make him halt in courage or feel shame in his
work. Let the issue come. He was not to be moved by
it. Whatever befel his body, his soul was fortified by
its purpose, and Christ would be magnified. " Accord-
ing to my earnest expectation and my hope," he
writes, " that in nothing I shall be ashamed, but that
with all boldness, as always, so now also Christ shall
be magnified in my body, whether it be by life or by
death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain."
Christ was the life of the apostle, and so to him there
was no death. The spiric of the Mast3r's life entered
into the life of the disciple ; — to serve the cause of the
Master and promote his kingdom of truth and love was
the life of the disciple devoted ; — in this way was Christ
■within him an indwelling light and power, and a hope
of glory. His life rose above earthly limitations. That
which men called death, and so commonly regarded as
a calamity, was to him no loss, but a gain ; — no disas-
trous or terrible event, but the opening of a higher life,
a brighter joy, and a wilder experience.

Christ is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever.
His gospel, with its gracious assurances, was not for
one age only, but for all ages. The spirit which shone
so conspicously in his life, and flowed so freely from

878 ' SERMON XXIV.

it, was not to bless apostles only, such as Paul, but to
bless all men. Herein may we have confidence, even
the weakest among us. The light and the life of the
gospel is freely offered to us, and we may so appropriate
it to the soul's use, that death shall be shorn of its
terrors, and the measure of life and enjoyment inde-
finitely heightened and expanded. This light and
this life lodged hopefully in the soul, gradually moulds
all things to its own purposes. Thought and feeling,
word and deed, take Christ-like form. No matter
where our lot is cast — no matter what pressure of cir-
cumstances surrounds us — we find in it motive and
hope. The public man, loaded -with immense respon-
. sibilities, finds in this, that which lightens his burden.
And in the most retired and obscure walk of life, amid
its various and trying cares, we may find in this, that
w^hich smooths and brightens the way. For, through
this, all things earthly acquire a heavenly significance.
The earthly life is recognised but as the initial stage
of our being, wherein we are called to work in view of
a life higher and more glorious. Every duty per-
formed, every throb of love which leaves its trace in
our experienee,is a stepping-stone to the higher sphere.
By these we mount to those loftier regions which God
has opened through the gospel.

All this imparts a new and peculiar complexion to
human existence, and especially to that event of our
existence which we commonly call death. The fall of
the body, and the removal of the form from among us,
which has been the clothing of the spirit that we loved,

THE CHRISTIAN VIEW OF LIFE AND DEATH. 379

and with which that spirit has all along been so closely
associated, must needs stir up sorrow, and plant a pang
in the soul. The human affections which God has
given us are lacerated bj the separation. The de-
parted one has passed away into a sphere where the
eye of sense cannot penetrate. If we had no other
vision than what the eye of sense affords, we should
say that the separation was final and irreparable.
And although we possess the added light of the gospel,
our human affections are not annihilated thereby.
They exist in full activity, and cause sorrow to heave
the breast. The separations which death brings are
still acutely felt. But the wider vision which the
gospel opens, takes the worst sting from the separa-
tion ; and by the new regions of life Avhich it unfolds,
it mingles with the present sorrow a lively hope.

Into these reflections I have been led at this time,
by the recent removal from among us of one who
shared largely in my Christian esteem and affection.*
For her faithful devotion through several years past
to the musical services of our congregation, we are
all her debtors. Amid the pressure of feeble health,
in various trial and sorrow, have I known her, and
still have I found her the same — patient, unselfish,
thoroughly devout and reliant on God. She was, by
nature, a woman of refined and dehcate perceptions,
and through her child-like and deeply rooted Christian
faith, these became sanctified, and quickened into a

* Mrs. F. A. Donoghue— Died 10th September, 1856.

380 • SERMON XXIV.

watchfulness that rarely slept. So far as I knew her,
I could not associate any thought of rudeness or mean-
ness — any selfishness of purpose or disrespect of con-
science — with her life. Her religious sensibilities were
very tender ; and while she confessed the surpassing
love of the Father, they clustered gratefully and
reverently around the person of the well beloved Son.
Christ was her Savior, and she was drawn to him by
links of gratitude and love, such as drew the Marys
of the former time. She w^as one of those who would
have stood by the cross, or watched by the sepulchre.

Since I last addressed you from this place, I saw
her, and spoke with her. She had been from home,
seeking some relief from change of air and scene. But
her return found her farther failed than when she left.
And before she had been a week at home she was
called away to the higher household of the Father.
On yesterday her perishable form of flesh was laid in
its hill- side sepulchre, but the imperishable spirit was
not laid there. It was elsewhere, and in other com-
pany. Life to her was after the pattern of Christ.
Death to her was gain.

Christianity augments life, and annihilates death.
Yet among Christians how widely does the feeling
prevail that death is an event unspeakably disastrous
and terrible. To multitudes even in Christian lands it
is still the " king of terrors.'' Men live all their
lifetime in bondage to the dread of it. This is deplor-
able enough, but not wholly unaccountable. Christian
faith is not co-extensive with Christian lands, as a vital

THE CHRISTIAN VIEW OF LIFE AND DEATH. 381

principle. Christianity floats in the Christian conscious-
ness to a large extent as a dead tradition or barren
form — a thing to be regarded in its best estate rather
as a resort in the pressing emergencies of life, than as
a constant and commanding principle of life. Hence
the weakness of Christendom, and the cowardice of so
many Christians in view of death. By his words and by
his works, by his loving life and bleeding death, by the
blessed hopes which his resurrection inspires and con-
firms, — by all these Christ the Master calls on his disci-
ples to show their love for him, and faith in him, by works
that have their root therein. Through all the motives
and influences of his gospel, he calls on them to make
their faith and love the ground principles of the life ; so
that all the varied affairs of life, whether connected
with the home or with trade, with private or public
concerns, shall be inspired and controlled thereby. In
a life thus inspired and controlled, the fear of death is
cast out. Life becomes a blessed unfolding of capacity,
wherein every labor accomplished leaves its trace of
present satisfaction— a pledge of the future joy. In a
life thus inspired and controlled, the voice from heaven
is heard daily, saying : " Blessed are the dead which
die in the Lord from henceforth : yea, saith the Spirit,
that they may rest from their labors, and their works
do follow them."

SERMON XXV.

ALL SOULS, ONE FAMILY.

/i^'^d

The whole family in heaven and «?arth."— fJ^y^. iii. 15.

\j^

«(•*'#"«»€'

The true life of God in the soul ^videns indefinitely
the sphere of its sympathy. Such sympathy indeed,
lar;^e, generous, illimitable, is one of the marks of
the true life. A narrow soul proclaims its limi-
tations constantly. It has its sect or itself, its
tribe or its community to love, and within these limits
its sympathies are not only bestowed but exhausted.
In the earlier stages of human culture, man hardly
thought of looking beyond his tribe or his nation with
any genuine humane feeling. A geographical mark
shut him off from his kind. And this is the tendency
of a low and imperfect culture still. We see the
selfish nature of man shutting him up in petty limita-
tions to-day, just as clearly as it did thousands of jcars

ago.

In referring to the limitations so commonly placed on

ALL SOULS, ONE FAMILY. 38^5

human sympathy, we may as well affirm at the outset
that some of them are natural and justifiable ; aii<l
capable of being turned to the noblest uses. Of all
the hollow boasts which a hollow soul may make, none
is more hollow than that which proclaims a love for its
kind while its kin is neglected. The domestic circle
is special and sacred. God setteth man in families
wherein the deepest affections are to be rooted, and
blossom, and bring forth fruit. Here we have the
type of every larger community — of the tribe and the
nation as seen upon the earth, as well as of that
larger concourse which the earth itself cannot limit.
Here, whatever is best in man must show itself, else
the whole character is counterfeit; all more [)ublic
goodness is but the varnish of the whited sepulchre.
It is not by depreciating the affections and the sacred
duties of the household, that we can bring out into full
and just proportions the demands of the wider gjjhere.
No : it is rather by magnifying the one that we can
properly magnify the other.

For, as I have just said, the household is the tyj)e of
every larger community to which we are bound by any
tic of sympathy. And as the affections are rightly
rooted here, and blest with free and generous exercise,
so will they be trained and fitted for the work of tlie
wider sphere. It is tho primary school, so to speak,
wherein our sympathies find their first range, and
receive their first lessons. An enlarging experience
brink's us into contact with a wider world. We ixo into
it aft into another school, but not to forget the lessons

38-i . SERMON XXV.

which we learned in the first. As we climb the hill
of life we see the horizon of duty expand ; and still,
as we reach to loftier heights, we see our Umiting lines
receding yet farther and farther. But in order to be
faithful throughout the widest circumference, the well
balanced soul feels no necessity of being unfaithful in
the inner circle which lies immediately around itself.
Nay, it carries the ideas and associations which fill
and bless that circle — it carries these outward, and
applies them universally. It makes them the food of
thought and the ground of life throughout the whole.
For the good ruler of a nation it knows no higher name
than that of the " father of the people." According
to the same thought, a community of nations is styled a
" family of nations." All pure and saintly spirits are
named as the " household of God." God himself is
a " Father," and all intelligent souls in heaven and
earth, one '* family."

In setting forth the large sympathies ofa large soul,
then, we have no intention of pleading against nature.
We would not lay sacrilegious hand on a single holy
affection, nor seek to steal away a particle of its bless-
ed value. "We plead for nature, and for all the rights
of the affections. We plead for the tie which binds
heart to heart within the domestic sphere ; for the tie
which binds soul to soul within the same household of
faith ; for the tie which binds man and man together
in fidelity to the country which they call their own.
Wo plead for all these, for we respect their sacredness,
and appreciate their value ; and it is just because we

ALL SOULS, ONE FAMILY. B85

have this respect and appreciation, that we would pro-
test against that selfishness which destroys their value,
and against that narrowness which stifles unto death
the holiness which belongs to them. The man whose
love and care for his owa family, leads him to over-
look the rights and the wants of all other families, shows
but a sorry specimen of manhood. He hurts those
whom he would bhndly serve, far more than he helps
them. He hurts them by the example of his own sel-
fish spirit, and by engrafting it on their souls he inflicts
a damage which all the wealth and luxury of the
nineteenth century would not counterbalance, but only
make worse. The man whose sympathies are so
thoroughly locked up in his own household of faith,
that he feels no sympathy for any other, but stands
alienated and apart from all others, by the fact pro-
claims himself a bigot and not a Christian — a bigot,
rendering a narrow worship to a narrow God, which
he has projected out of his own narrow soul — not a
Christian, living a loving life toward all men, and render-
ing a loving worship to the God and Father of all. The
man whose devotion to his country leads him to disre-
gard the rights and the peace of every nation and
people beside, exhibits a patriotism which lacks the
only principle by which men or nations can be proper-
ly served and elevated ; for it is by righteousness
only that a people is exalted and a nation saved.
Every artifice of dishonest policy, every act of rapine
and violence by which he seeks to aggrandize his own
country, hurts it far more tkan it hurts any other.

386 • SERMON XXV.

Thus do the eternal Lxws still vindicate themselves
ag.^jnst the petty devices of humanitj. Man cannot
take a short turn on God, nor blot out even a tittle of
his law. If man has love in his soul, it is not to be
shut up within any given limits — it is to flow outward
still, if it would be kept pure, and fresh, and living —
it is to flow outward still, through ever enlarging limits.
To shut it up within any given circle is to invite stag-
nation and death. Love, shut out from the large
range which is its life, stagnates and dies. Selfishness
takes its place and brings forth its own loathsome brood
in the soul.

There are signs visible in the present time which
ought, I think, to be fairly observed and duly appreci-
ated ; inasmuch as they discover a tendency to enlarge-
ment in the domain of human intercourse and sympathy.
There are obvious agencies at work in our present
civilization which are calculated to remove some of the
more prominent barriers which have hitherto held men
apart. In the domain of theology, the relative impor-
tance of dogma and spirit is beginning to be more
generally understood. Highly as men may estimate
dogma (and it is proper that they should estimate it
highly), they are coming to understand more clearly
and confess more readily, that the spirit is of yet more
importance. Sectarian walls are always constructed
and fortified with dogmas. It is with the bolts and
bars of dogma, hard and unyielding, that orthodoxy,
so-called, tries to fence itself from all manner of heresy,
real or suspected. One style of dogmatic orthodoxy

ALL SOULS, ONE FAMILY. 887

proclaims itself free from all taint of that which
another style of dogmatic orthodoxy declares ought
most certainly to be believed. Through the assump-
tion and strife consequent on such sect-building, good
men, whose hearts were at one in the spirit of God
and Christ, have been kept apart, and made aliens to
each other on earth. Against this evil a steady pro-
test, more or less emphatically uttered, has been long
going on — a protest which gains an augmented force
every year. Dogmas are generally losing their sharp-
ness, and as intelligence spreads among men, it will be
more difficult to inspire them with terror, through
their lack of acceptance of this or that creed. They
will come to see that dogmas are the affair of the in-
tellect, and that uniformity of belief therein is no more
to be looked for, than unity of form in the branches of
the oak tree or the apple tree. They will come to see
that, as the living and fruitful sap finds its way through
the crooked and the straight branches alike, and shows
itself in blossoms which ripen into fruit, so, amid
many varieties of thought and belief, the living and
fruitful spirit of religion will find its way and produce
its results in the life. In proportion as importance is
withdrawn from the dogma, let us hope it will be at-
tached to the spirit. ' Now, while an exaggerated
importance given to dogma separates men, and holds
them apart in sectarian alienation, the higher the impor-
tance which we can put on the spirit of religion (for
the importance of this cannot readily be exaggerated),
the more do we contribute toward their fraternal

888 • SERMON XXV.

approach, and toward the realization of that glorious
time of promise, when all men shall be one in Christ.

Besides these modifications of theological thought,
there is also a modification in the policy which nations
adopt toward each other. From tne dawn of the pre-
sent order of civilization two prominent ideas have
been at work in it, and quite commonly at work in
conflict. These we may call the feudal idea and the
commercial idea. The feudal idea was essentially
narrow, and limiting in its effect. The commercial
idea was expansive. The baronial castle was the
central point in feudalism. The owner fortified it, and
armed his retainers round about, so that no intruder
should transgress the limits of the domain. The ware-
house was the central point in the commercial system.
The owner opened its doors wide, so that all men might
enter and buy. He welcomed all comers to inspect
his wares and purchase. He opened up highways on
sea and land, so that he might more readily barter his
corn for silk, his wine for iron, and the like. The
wider the intercourse the larger the trade, so the
merchant sought to enlarge the intercourse of man
with man. The European nations were organized on
a feudal model. The monarch was but a baron of a
higher order. The interest of each nation was held
to be separate ; and immense armies organized and
upheld in pay of the crown to protect these separate
interests. But the commercial system worked Hke
leaven in the mass, modifying it more or less in every
advancing century, until in our time it has almost

ALL SOULS, ONE FAMILY. 389

wrested England from the control of feudalism. The
commercial idea, rather than the feudal idea, now
rules the British Islands, and it is gaining in strength
and influence every year. The feudal idea would keep
a belt of forest between Canada and the United States
to prevent intercourse. The commercial idea cuts
down the forest and builds railways and telegraphs to
facilitate intercourse, and encourage people on either
side of the frontier to go and come, and buy and sell,
and cultivate friendly and fraternal relations.

The great international exhibitions of produce and
manufactures, of mechanical and industrial arts, are
prominent tokens of the triumph of the commercial
idea in our present civihzation. Commerce is a grand
pacifier and civilizer. The warehouse is a nobler and
more significant structure to-day than the baronial
hall. The mission of the merchant is widening into
grander proportions every year, and the use of the
baron is fast fading away. The exigencies of commerce
are stimulating men to achievements, stupendous and
marvellous, — urging them even to answer God's chal-
lenge to Job of old : " Canst thou send lightnings
that they may go, and say unto thee, here we are ?"
{Joh xxxviii. 35.) Yes, they urge man to make a
path for the lightning not only over the broad land,
but under the deep sea, that it may bear his message
and serve his purposes. Now, commerce is not a thing
of chance growth ; and it would be a great degrada-
tion to it to affirm that it was merely a happy human
contrivance for accumulating wealth. We look blindly

390 ' SERMON XXV.

a ' historv if we do not see the hand of God therein ;
and in con merce wo see one of his agencies for carry-
ing out his high purposes in regard to man. Com-
merce is a providential mediator between man and
man, drawing men out of the hmitations of their merely
national interests, and blending them together as one
family having common interests. The great London
Exhibition could not have taken place in the last cen-
tury. A gathering so universal, for the purpose of
generous competition in the arts which go to civilize
and elevate our common humanity, could only take
place in an age when common interests were recog-
nised, and universal ideas had been scattered far and
wide by the messengers and instrumentalities which
commerce furnished. God's hand is in the work. The
most seldsh soul that ever fitted out a ship, or brought
or sent a bale of goods across the sea, or took shares
in a railroad or telegraph, became the instrument of a
higher purpose than he wist. God works his very
selilslmess into subordination to the divine end of draw-
ing men together, and making them feel that they are
one family and have a common interest.

Now all this is Christian, i. e., it is in harmony
with one of the leading ideas of the gospel. It is
very idle to say that commerce is working in this
matter independently of the gospel, for in truth no
agent within the limits of Christendom can work in
such a matter independently of the gospel. Its spirit
enters, and its power operates, even where its name
is not acknowledged. The social reformer, impatient

ALL SOULS, ONE FAMILY. 391

with what he considers the apathy of the Christian
church, or disgusted at what he considers its treachery
in the cause of humanity, may stand apart from it and
affect independence of it ; but the ideas which sustain
him have been drawn from the Christian fountain, and
no word of his for human freedom and human right
can ever transcend the idea ^f these which Christianity
gives. One of the leading purposes of the gospel is
to throw down all barriers which separate man from
man, and to draw them together as one brotherhood.
One of its first utterances, as we find by the sacred
records, was against the Abrahamic peculiarity on
which the Jewish people had been accustomed to rely
with so much pride and gratulation. The name of
Abraham was no longer to be regarded as a special
mark of superiority by the Jewish nation. Hebrew
and Gentile, Greek and Barbarian, bond and free,
were to be made one in Christ. National barriers
were to fall before moral forces. God was to be
recognised as the Father of all men, — all men were
to be linked together as one family.

Christianity justly claims as its own all the agencies
by which human intercourse is increased, and human
sympathies extended throughout a widened range.
Whatever selfishness belongs to them it distinctly repu-
diates, while it sees in their more generous and enlarged
tendencies the working of that divine life which itself
imparted so bountifully to the world. It still supplies
that life abundantly, and projects it into every earthly
channel which is not closed against it by some form of

392 . SERMON XXV.

human selfishness or passion. It throws it into the
channels which art, commerce, and literature open, so
that as these go forth among men they go charged with
Christian influences which they diffuse and propagate.
As national, sectarian, and all separating barriers arc
thus loosened and removed, Christianity sees the
results of its own power working through instrumenta-
lities which it had appropriated. It comprehends all
such agencies in the sum total of its effective forces,
as a part of the whole. Moreover, as it sweeps around
all earthly instrumentalities, taking them all in, as a
portion of its own working forces, so does its aim trans-
cend all earthly limits. It is not those on earth only
that it would bind together as one family. It compre-
hends those in heaven as well. It establishes an elec-
tric chain not merely across physical continents, and
beneath deep seas, but throughout the whole spiritual
domain of the universe. By this, earth is linked to
heaven, and heaven to earth. The boundaries of this
planet may not separate soul from soul. These, too,
are levelled, and those in heaven and those on earth
become one — one in the bonds of a holy brotherhood —
one family, whose head is God the Father of all.

Behold, then, the range of our human love and
sympathy ! Earth and heaven are open to us. There
is not a friend whom we have seen and loved on the
earth, that may not still be loved, though he be here
no longer, but passed into the heavens. There is not
a saint or martyr that has won our love by his sanctity
or his suffering on the earth, but may still be loved.

ALL SOULS, ONE FAMILY. 393

though he has passed away from earthly bounds. The
deep affections of humanity do not die. They live
in heaven as on earth, and still bind together all holy
souls in one, whether here or there. ** Other sheep
I have," said the Lord Christ to the Jews, " which are

not of this fold : them also I must bring, and

there shall be one fold and one shepherd." Here we
find him setting aside the national boundaries which
separated one people from another on the earth. " In
my Father's house are many mansions," he says
again to his disciples : " I go to prepare a place

for you, that where I am, ye may be also."

Here we find him comforting his followers with the
blessed thought and hope of the family in heaven. His
spirit entering the soul, annihilates the limitations of
time and space. The Christian heart has a fellowship
in every sphere. The early believers, as they attained
to the deeper meaning of the gospel, found it so, and
rejoiced in the fellowship. Gathered around the table
of commumon, where they had met in remembrance of
their Lord, they did not forget the larger community
with which they were united — the larger family of
which they were a part. There they sought to remem-
ber all, and have communion with all. " In this our
communion, we remember" — I quote the words of one
of the old Eucharistic liturgies * — " the multitudes
of every name who are joined with us in the household
of faith — our brethren and sisters in Christ throughout

* The Antiochene Litorgy of St. James.
AA

394 • SERMON XXY.

the world. We remember those who have fallen asleep

in Christ We remember the fathers from the

beginning ©f the world ; the patriarchs, prophets^
apostles, martyrs, and all who have wrought righteous-
ness, from righteous Abel even to the present day."
Thus did they, in their most sacred seasons, seek to
realize and keep ahve the grand idea of one '^ family
in heaven and earth.''

If I have rightly set forth my own train of thought
in these remarks, you will have been reminded that, for
the godhke soul, the range of its sympathy is illimit-
able. The love which finds its sphere of activity in
the domestic circle must not remain within those limits
only. It must pass outward, nor allow even the boun-
daries of a nation, nor the circumference of the earth,
to hem it in. All souls in heaven and earth are one
family. There are effective and wide-spread agencies
at work in these days, breaking down the barriers
which have hitherto kept men apart on the earth.
Christianity appropriates these human instrumentali-
ties, and makes them do its divine work. Christianity
opens the eye of the spirit to the heavenly sphere,
as well as the earthly, and shows us God as the Father,
and Christ as the friend and Savior of all souls there
and here. Through an inward and heartfelt accep-
tance of the gospel, we are incorporated into the great
spiritual family, and vitally united to God, and to all
holy souls, through all time and all spheres. As the
early Christian believers, 'm their commemorative rite,
sought to realize this grand idea, so may we. And the

ALL SOULS, ONE FAMILY. 395

thought is truly a stirring one, and sublime. As we
meet, from time to time, around our communion table,
we may remember those brethren at Anticch whose
words we have cited, and all those whom they remem-
bered. We may feel ourselves one with them in faith,
hope, and spirit ;— members of the great body of Christ,
perpetuated throughout the ages ; — linked by a living
family tie to all holy souls in heaven and earth. Surely
this is a thought from which we ought to draw strength
and inspiration so to fulfil our part here, and now, that
when we are removed hence, we may not find ourselves
aliens and strangers, but sanctified to enter, and fitted
to enjoy, the eternal home of the blessed.